Review—Lies and Deceit: Five Films by Claude Chabrol (Arrow Video)

Author: Palo Sionoplia

Films: Cop au Vin, Inspecteur Lavardin, Madame Bovary, Betty, Torment

While Arrow’s first foray into the vast catalogue of Chabrol films focuses on late-career works helmed by the auteur in the late 1980s and early 1990s, the dueling motifs of lies and deceit equally apply to almost the whole of Chabrol’s impressive filmography. Chabrol’s five-decade career may not receive the same amount of press as Truffaut and Godard, but the prolific filmmaker is just as essential to an understanding of the French New Wave (and the works that followed in its wake).

All five films in this collection revolve around layers of intrigue that concern marital infidelity and a resulting death, be it a murder, a suicide, or a mysterious disappearance. This connective tissue is applied to variety of contexts and subgenres, ranging from police procedurals to period pieces to character studies. Despite their considerable differences, all five films are uniformly excellent and well worth the time of any cineaste who is looking to augment their knowledge of one of France’s most important filmmakers of the twentieth century.

The first two films in Lies and Deceit feature a direct link, as they are both detective stories featuring Inspector Lavardin, a unique investigator who is part Sherlock Holmes and part Dirty Harry. Both Cop au Vin and its sequel Inspecteur Lavardin present the viewer with traditional mysteries solved in highly unorthodox ways, as Lavardin deals out a brand of morality that differs substantially from the legal playbooks. The films make a perfect pair and highlight the ways in which a single lie can tragically alter the lives of the innocent and the guilty alike. What’s most interesting in these films is not the solving of the crime; instead, the fascination lies in the dealing of justice. Compared to the complexities of the collection’s subsequent films, these works are more straightforward; even so, you will find greater sophistication of character than in the typical police caper.

For the third film in the set, Chabrol shifts gears and directs a film that he envisioned making for decades, an adaptation of Flaubert’s Madame Bovary. Clocking in at nearly two and a half hours, the film is concentrated study of a life spiraling out of control. It is also—as is true of all the films in this set—a pointed critique of bourgeois sensibilities: the acquisition of useless possessions, the feigned disdain for a life of comfort, and a pervasively ignorant contempt for the lower classes. Isabelle Huppert succeeds almost too well in her portrayal of the titular character, as her rendering of Madame Bovary as a woman consumed by shallow desire and manipulative behavior renders her thoroughly unlikeable. The film, though, is engrossing; we may know how this tragedy will end, but we still cannot look away.

The fourth film, Betty, is the most experimental piece in the collection. In collaboration with famed author Georges Simenon, Betty is intentionally plotless. Instead, it is a portrait of a broken woman’s fate after the plot has passed; the film effectively begins at the end of a journey, though a series of brief flashbacks that fill in the gaps. Betty is more invested in aftereffects than effects, more interested in watching a lost soul drink and smoke and weep and stare into oblivion. It is to the film’s credit that it remains compelling, despite its purposeful sidestepping of cinematic conventions. (I daresay that Godard, in his later years, has often been less successful.)

Lastly, we have the most twisted film of the bunch, the appropriately titled Torment. It is an unflinching portrait of madness, obsession, and ensuing violence. In more ways than one, the film plays like Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment in reverse; instead of a man obsessing over the consequences of a crime, we have a man who lives in constant anticipation of a transgression that is never committed. It is a disturbing portrait of the ways in which we can single-handedly ruin our own path to happiness, even when the road to peace is so clearly paved.

Across the board, the transfers of these films are impressive, with Madame Bovary and Torment serving as standouts. Details are crisp and the image quality is impressively clear, even in Cop au Vin’s many darkly-lit scenes. All five films feature LPCM mono audio tracks that are free of dialogue issues; soundtracks are evenly balanced and entirely pleasing. These are certainly the best these films have ever looked on home video, and the presentation of Madame Bovary in particular rivals that of a big-screen theatrical experience.

True to Arrow’s usual style, this collection features an impressive range of bonus content. Here is a breakdown of the material.

Cop au Vin: introduction by Joel Magny (3 minutes); feature audio commentary by Ben Sachs; Ian Christie on Claude Chabrol (12 minutes); Claude Chabrol interviewed at the BFI (1 hour, 14 minutes); scene commentaries by Claude Chabrol (22 minutes); Interview with Claude Chabrol, Jean Poiret, and Stephane Audran (29 minutes); theatrical trailer; poster and stills

Inspecteur Lavardin: introduction by Joel Magny (3 minutes); feature audio commentary by Ben Sachs; Why Chabrol?: Sam Wigley on Chabrol (16 minutes); scene commentaries by Claude Chabrol (34 minutes), theatrical trailer; poster and stills

Madame Bovary: introduction by Joel Magny (2 minutes); feature audio commentary by Kat Ellinger; Imagining Emma: Madame Bovary on Screen (16 minutes); scene commentaries by Claude Chabrol (38 minutes; theatrical trailer; poster and stills

Betty: introduction by Joel Magny (3 minutes) feature audio commentary by Kat Ellinger; Betty, from Simenon to Chabrol (16 minutes); an interview with Ros Schwartz (15 minutes); scene commentaries by Claude Chabrol (32 minutes); theatrical trailer; poster and stills

Torment: introduction by film scholar Joel Magny (3 minutes); feature audio commentary by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas and Josh Nelson; Chabrol on Henri-Georges Clouzot (12 minutes); scene commentaries by Claude Chabrol (39 minutes); interview with Marin Karmitz (26 minutes); theatrical trailer; poster and stills

If you’re pressed for time, Chabrol’s extended interview for the BFI is essential viewing; his scene commentaries are also a delight. Kat Ellinger’s audio commentaries for Madame Bovary and Betty are (unsurprisingly) standouts.

Additionally, purchasers are treated to an 80-page squarebound paperback book that features a healthy range of essays and photos. While much of the information printed here can be found in the commentaries, the book is nevertheless a welcome addition to the set.

Arrow is to be commended for this comprehensive collection of some of Chabrol’s later and less widely seen films. The label has already announced a sequel collection, Twisting the Knife, which will be available later this year. Here’s hoping that additional Chabrol box sets are on the horizon.