Alone with her in the first floor den, the middle-aged detective wanders the room with the innocent look of a visiting older relative. Night At The Crossroads resembles no other movie made before it: smoky, foggy, and visually very dark. It represents a key step between the detective film, which is supposed to be resolved logically, and the purely filmic thriller, which trades in atmosphere and seduction.
Renoir, one of the greatest directors of the s, made the film between La Chienne ; also a proto-noir and Boudu Saved From Drowning , his two most famous collaborations with actor Michel Simon. It was shot partly on location in a mild late winter, with the cast and crew sleeping on straw cots in a disused inn nearby.
Tents Accessories Lights Camping Bed. Can you guess where this is going? Brunius are two gentlemen idlers whose day of calm and quiet time-wasting hanging about the restaurant and playing chess is spoiled by the sounds of the shrill and excitable city folk arriving outside. Please check your email to confirm your subscription. There's a disreputable night club with patterned shadows and a mixed-race torch singer warbling in Franglais, and Jules Berry flaunts his punchable face with the usual relish, while Charles Vanel looks tragic. My Wishlist. Group Carrefour overview.
Some claim that part of the footage was lost; others say that Renoir, who was working on a very small budget and often improvised, never had the money to film the entire script. Either way, Night At The Crossroads , which runs only about 70 minutes, is a film in which much of what could be called plot appears to happen somewhere off screen. But then the garage door is opened, revealing the body of Isaac Goldberg, the deceased, whose lifeless eye stares directly into the audience.
Simenon, one of the greatest popular writers of the 20th century, was mindbogglingly prolific: He published over novels during his lifetime, 75 of them featuring his most famous creation, Maigret, a pipe-smoking commissaire of the criminal investigation division of the Paris police. Unassuming, with a broad face and receding hairline, this Maigret investigates mostly through touch, moving through an environment that is often three parts murk to one part solid matter. Else is used by Guido as general purpose concubine to keep his gang in line, with Andersen, who married Else in the hope of elevating out of the squalid criminal universe, tied fatefully to her.
Soon the criminals try to murder him to keep him quiet. The workers in the garage who do the dirty work, the sniping, readily offended Michonnets who act as fences, and the lurking aristocratic duo in the big house, all share nefarious motives — even if things prove a little more complicated. Anderson looks like a characters strayed out of a Fritz Lang film with one lost eye concealed behind a black monocle lens, a touch that makes him ineffably odd, a creature of proto-science fiction, human and mechanism coming together.
And yet he turns out to be the one well-motivated character save the policemen. I suspect the reason cinema beckoned so irresistibly to Renoir over art forms was the promise of movement. The urge to movement is often literalised in his characters who, if they have no place to go but also no reason to stay put, give themselves up to the logic of flowing rivers, speeding trains, open roads and anxiously inviting frontiers. Renoir actualised this anxious, liberating joy found in surging speed by often including a shot from a camera affixed to the front of a car or train, precipitous images of racing speed.
The stuck-in-the-mud mood of Night at the Crossroads belies this motif to a certain extent, but then gives way as Lucas chases after the criminal band, laboriously catching up with the vehicle and swinging about with giddy speed as the villains loose shots at their pursuers.
The titles of both Night at the Crossroads and A Day in the Country contain the seeds of an obfuscating joke, associating both locations with aspects of opportune erotic adventure; the dejeuners of the later film face, and leap into, dalliances which Maigret spends a great deal of his story avoiding, as Else constantly tries to provoke the detective, the ever-attentive copper refusing to be drawn but clearly on occasion having a hard time of it. Else herself seems to mildly prefer Maigret himself, and the very last frame sees Else grasping the detective from behind. A Day in the Country , by contrast, retreats into a bucolic past, a portrait of Edens lost, a place free of psychic and physical pressure from bustling machines and harsh contemporary facts.
All the better for Renoir to take a closer, more exacting look at the dance of seduction and the evanescence of pleasure. Accounts regarding the production radically diverge. The resulting pile of celluloid sat on the shelf for nearly a decade, during which time war broke out and Renoir moved to the US, where his interest in people on the fringes of society was evinced in regional dramas like Swamp Water and The Southerner Eventually, Marguerite Renoir sat down and carefully cut A Day in the Country together and it was released as a minute movie almost one decade exactly later.
Not that A Day in the Country is any kind of political tract either. The story is as simple and universal as the plot of Night at the Crossroads is knotty and obscure. Approaching a riverside restaurant, they decide to stop and have lunch. Henriette sets her mind on a picnic under a cherry tree by the river.
Quand Maigret, avec un soupir de lassitude, écarta sa chaise du bureau auquel il était accoudé, il y avait exactement dix-sept heures que durait l'interrogatoire. Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Georges Simenon () est le quatrième auteur La nuit du carrefour (French Edition) by [SIMENON, Georges] .
Brunius are two gentlemen idlers whose day of calm and quiet time-wasting hanging about the restaurant and playing chess is spoiled by the sounds of the shrill and excitable city folk arriving outside. Upon catching a glimpse of the feminine pulchritude suddenly on hand, irritation swiftly turns to resolve to seduce the ladies, which proves, on the whole, a rather easy task. The two men look on like wolves in a Friz Freleng cartoon.
Young seminarians marching by halt in distraction, needing a swift clip on the ear to get them moving again. Randy energy permeates everything; Dufour even mentions that the clasps for the oars on the riverboats are called dames. Later Madame Dufour tries to rouse her dozing husband after their meal with memories of past sexual adventures, but the torpor of bourgeois self-satisfaction has descended.
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