Grade: B+ | Genre: Foreign/Classic/Crime Summary: If your brain is ready for a workout, Le Samourai can be a very satisfying experience and is evidence that America doesn't hold a monopoly on classic cinema. Something tells me the French really miss the days of the silent film. I can't speak for the entire film community on the other side of the pond, but those I've seen seem to be some mix of dark and brooding, quirky and visually stunning (The City of Lost Children, A Very Long Engagement) or deep character studies, served by torrents of inner storms (Belle De Jour, Bleu). They all seem to be very thoughtfully executed and artistically rich. They also seem to revel in the lost art of telling a story with an economy of words. Any writer worth anything knows its better to envelop the reader's senses, making their audience feel a scene rather than just spelling out the mundane details. The 1967 film, Le Samourai takes this minimalist approach to the extreme, telling the story of a contract killer with a Zen-like approach to his executions. The film is told almost without the benefit of words and it sits in stark contrast to modern American cinema.

The film opens very auspiciously. A man is sitting in a dingy flat nursing a cigarette. A bird jumps around in its cage while the world, whizzing by outside, is softly reflected on the light dusting the ceiling. It almost looks like a modern art exhibit with its subtle attention to detail. Soon we are introduced to Jef Costello (Alain Delon). He is a lone hitman who possesses an eeriness in his calm detachment from life. He boosts unsuspecting cars with his vast ream of skeleton keys. He scopes out the environment that his mark inhabits. When the time comes, he walks into the bustling nightclub, puts on his white gloves, and murders the owner he was paid to dispose of. As he is leaving the man's back alley office, the club's jazz pianist (Cathy Rosier) catches a long glance at him -- full frontal. He calmly walks past her, through the nightclub and out the front door. Many spy a glimpse of him as he walks by them, yet as they set their eyes on him, he looks like everyone and no one all at once. This botched escape brings the heat down upon him, sparking a crafty little caper.

Le Samourai Starring: Alain Delon, Francois Perier, Nathalie Delon, Cathy Rosier & Jacques Leroy Director: Jean-Pierre Melville Criterion Film Page Related Films The Usual Suspects Belle De Jour Layer Cake

Director Jean-Pierre Melville has a savvy eye for shaping a scene. He focuses on the minute elements of each scene to tell this story that is completely devoid of exposition. For example, Jef identifies someone has been rifling around in his flat based on the pattern with the bird hopped around the cage. The stunning, somewhat baffling, ending can all be explained through deconstructing the scene, focusing on those subtle details. Its like the film finishes when you still have 30 pieces of the puzzle still waiting to find their place. Watching a film that speaks volumes without uttering a word, takes a little getting used to. It can be slow at times with dead spots and can feel akin to being in a sensory deprivation chamber. The careful pacing of these sparse moments usually magnify the impact of their adjoining frame once the payoff kicks in.

This is a Criterion Collection feature, which are known for resurrecting great films with a painful attention to detail. The picture is crisp and probably cleaner than when you slid into the cinema seat in Paris back in 67. The Paris feel and atmosphere are deadly seductive, be it the swanky cabaret or the cat and mouse games played out on the gritty Metro rumbling beneath the streets. This is certainly an artistic film geared for the film aficionado. This is not to say that your average moviegoer can't enjoy this film. It just takes a very discerning eye to focus on the seemingly trivial elements and allow them to let this picture take shape. If your brain is ready for a workout, Le Samourai can be a very satisfying experience and is evidence that America doesn't hold a monopoly on classic cinema.