For as long as I can remember I have wanted to see this film. To me Le Qaui des Brumes typified a moody French film of the 1930s, the type of film growing up that was not readily seen. There are some truly iconic images in the film: one of a moody pair played by Jean Gabin as the deserting soldier and Michèle Morgan as the lost young girl both staring out of the window. The other image is of Gabin in his army uniform eating while Morgan sits reposed on a bench dressed in her plasti mac and beret looking very mysterious. These images were to me as iconic of classical cinema as Garbo, Bogart, Chaplin or Clark Gable taking Vivien Leigh in his arms as Atlanta burns in the background. And finally now I have seen it thanks to the forthcoming release by Studiocanal. And I have to say that the film did not disappoint. It is European cinema’s Casablanca. Beautifully restored the film exceeds all expectations with moody cinematography, a script by leading Surrealist poet Jacques Prévert and the poetic realism of Marcel Carné’s direction.
The story is about a soldier, Jean (Jean Gabin) who has hitched his way to the port town of Le Havre in the hope of getting safe passage out of France. The trouble is he has little money. After showing kindness to a tramp he ends up in an end of port shack of a bar called Panama’s where he meets a group of disparate characters including a suicidal painter and a rather lost girl called Nelly (Michèle Morgan). Following the sound of gunshots a man is seen apparently injured and having escaped some local hoods. The soldier is instantly attracted to the girl and agrees to meet up with her the next day. Talking at the portside they run into the hoodlums who Jean stands up to and slaps them around warning them to stay away. Meanwhile it turns out that it is not only the soldier hoping to run away but also the girl to get away from her guardian (Michel Simon) who seems to hold a sexual hold over her. When we first see Nelly we mistake her for a prostitute, a kind of Anna Christie character running away from her troubles but she is really an innocent. This, it becomes clear as the film carries on is also the case for the soldier.
The film strongly focuses on character and at the start of the film there is a brief written introduction explaining how this film has been painstakingly restored and the various different versions of the film that exist. The film was banned in 1939 when the war broke out due to being too depressing but was later re-released in a cut form by the Vichy government in 1941 and was shown in different forms as the years went on. The release here by Studiocanal is as near to Carné’s vision of the film as possible. Few films beat this one in terms of atmosphere which creates a wonderfully poetic and realistic, even romantic image of its surroundings as any film: Le Havre is shrouded in fog, the cabin is somehow memorable in its jagged shapes and even the quayside hotel has a romantic and nostalgic coastal beauty to it. The romantic element particularly comes to the fore when the hard edge of Jean and Nelly drops away and the pair consummate their love in the hotel room; the previous night Jean tells Nelly in a close-up shot how pretty her eyes are.
Accompanying the DVD are several fascinating documentaries that deal at length with the restoration of the film, a booklet essay written by Ginette Vincendeau and a French produced documentary in which film critics analyze the film, wax lyrical about it and go through a detailed history of the production, myths surrounding the film and its reception both then and over the years. This documentary would surely resonate more with a French audience used to the canonization of this film. Vincendeau also presents a talk on the films reception and restoration but doesn’t add anything in addition to the other documentaries. For me this is definitely the film of French cinema and I think it is unfortunate that films in a foreign language prove an obstacle in the status of films and one that truly deserves to be seen by a wider audience.
Chris Hick