I was familiar with two of Henri-Georges Clouzot's (1907-1977) most celebrated films, 'The Wages of Fear' (1953), and 'Les Diaboliques' (1955), both of which I love. Only recently I learned about and watched the controversial and equally brilliant 'Le Corbeau' (1943, aka 'The Raven').
'Le Corbeau' is an unusual film; still unsettling and thought-provoking almost seventy years after its initial release. The plot, loosely based on a true story that happened two decades earlier, basically revolves around a series of poison-pen letters written by a mysterious person who signs as 'The Raven'. The letters spread rumors in a small French village, turning the inhabitants against one another, and focus on accusing the local doctor, Remy Germain (Pierre Fresnay), of having an affair and practicing illegal abortions. Releasing such a film (produced by a German company, Continental Films) in France during World War II proved to be quite dangerous, as it was banned after the Liberation (1944), and had its director and some of its stars judged for collaboration with the Germans/banned from their profession.
By watching this film for the first time, even now in 2011, one can easily see why it caused such a stir during the War. 'Le Corbeau' is allegorical cinema at its finest; although the symbolism present in the apparently simple plot can be interpreted in a myriad of ways - there lies the richness of great art - it is not hard to see the brilliant analysis of a community's paranoia in times of war. In a way, it reminds me of Don Siegel's classic 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' (1956) and its indictment of McCarthyism, behind the apparently cheesy sci-fi facade.
Films, like any other art form (when/whether they achieve the level of art or not is another story altogether), are products of their time. Some age well, others don't; yet they remain a relevant document of the period they represent. 'Le Corbeau' not only has aged very well, but still holds the intellectual punch it did 68 years ago. Today's relative lack of censorship has killed subtlety in film for the most part. Modern satires often rely on shock value, visual and mental masturbation in order to provoke the audience. One of the most memorable scenes in 'Le Corbeau', for me, is the one in which a little girl desperately states her wish to die after finding out (through a poison-pen letter) that she is an illegitimate child. It strikes me as a poignant and yet so disturbingly real scene that you rarely see in films today (we're not talking the seductive prose and visual feast of 'The Virgin Suicides', but a dead serious representation of a child's desperation among adults going insane); let alone back in 1943. 'Le Corbeau' was and remains a brave film; a truly original, intriguing, timeless piece of cinema, and I'm glad I've finally discovered it. Regardless of the viewer's approach - as a mystery, a satire, a peculiar melodrama - it is sure to make one think.
'Le Corbeau' is an unusual film; still unsettling and thought-provoking almost seventy years after its initial release. The plot, loosely based on a true story that happened two decades earlier, basically revolves around a series of poison-pen letters written by a mysterious person who signs as 'The Raven'. The letters spread rumors in a small French village, turning the inhabitants against one another, and focus on accusing the local doctor, Remy Germain (Pierre Fresnay), of having an affair and practicing illegal abortions. Releasing such a film (produced by a German company, Continental Films) in France during World War II proved to be quite dangerous, as it was banned after the Liberation (1944), and had its director and some of its stars judged for collaboration with the Germans/banned from their profession.
By watching this film for the first time, even now in 2011, one can easily see why it caused such a stir during the War. 'Le Corbeau' is allegorical cinema at its finest; although the symbolism present in the apparently simple plot can be interpreted in a myriad of ways - there lies the richness of great art - it is not hard to see the brilliant analysis of a community's paranoia in times of war. In a way, it reminds me of Don Siegel's classic 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' (1956) and its indictment of McCarthyism, behind the apparently cheesy sci-fi facade.
Films, like any other art form (when/whether they achieve the level of art or not is another story altogether), are products of their time. Some age well, others don't; yet they remain a relevant document of the period they represent. 'Le Corbeau' not only has aged very well, but still holds the intellectual punch it did 68 years ago. Today's relative lack of censorship has killed subtlety in film for the most part. Modern satires often rely on shock value, visual and mental masturbation in order to provoke the audience. One of the most memorable scenes in 'Le Corbeau', for me, is the one in which a little girl desperately states her wish to die after finding out (through a poison-pen letter) that she is an illegitimate child. It strikes me as a poignant and yet so disturbingly real scene that you rarely see in films today (we're not talking the seductive prose and visual feast of 'The Virgin Suicides', but a dead serious representation of a child's desperation among adults going insane); let alone back in 1943. 'Le Corbeau' was and remains a brave film; a truly original, intriguing, timeless piece of cinema, and I'm glad I've finally discovered it. Regardless of the viewer's approach - as a mystery, a satire, a peculiar melodrama - it is sure to make one think.