
Melville, who has been widely praised for his wonderful crime thrillers Le Samourai and Le Cercle Rouge, ventures into his past for this story of the French Resistance. As someone who was involved with the resistance, Melville's personal experiences shine through the film, creating a stunningly realistic depiction of the men and women who gave their lives for their (occupied) country. Melville clearly understood the inner workings of these freedom fighters, their fears and their hopes and desires, and those feelings are beautifully illustrated here. Never once during the duration of the film does it remotely approach the gleeful romanticism that dominated the wild antics of a film like The Great Escape, which is about a similar (not identical) group of soldiers fighting a hidden, small scale war. Rather, there is a sharp and dark cynicism that permeates from the screen and from the get go, the resistance's cause seems hopeless, an uphill battle that will never be won outright, a war where even the smallest achievements are celebrated as major breakthrough. The subject matter is undeniably heroic yet is never hokey. It never dips into the Hollywood pantheon of glorious, rousing war films but like Melville does with his smaller in scale noirs, there is an obvious influence albeit one that has been warped and twisted to fit the directors vision.
The film, which so brilliantly keeps its narrative at a small, personal level, despite its far reaching epic story begins in gripping fashion with a static shot of Nazi troops goose stepping down the Champs-Elysees, in front of the Arc de Triomphe. They start far in the background but take a sudden right turn and begin marching directly at the camera. As they get closer and closer, the camera's unflinching eye remains steady, documenting the ever growing line of German soldiers inhabiting the streets until finally, with a devastatingly effective freeze frame, the motion stops, mid step as the first solider marches over our view, crushing the view, placing the audience in a submissive, subordinate role, one not entirely dissimilar to our soon to be introduced protagonist, Phillippe Gerbier. Brilliantly portrayed by
Melville's true achievement here is how effortlessly he carries over the exciting tension of his noirs into this setting, keeping the tension intact but rather than having a more lighthearted feeling to it, he imbues it with a continuous sense of dread and foreboding. Unlike, say Hitchcock's tension, which almost seems significantly more playful, a piece of cinematic trickery if you will, Melville is deadly serious and never has the gleeful edge of the seat suspense of a Rear Window or North by Northwest. This is not to decry Hitchcock's form of suspense (there has never been any better) but merely to praise Melville's willingness to stick so closely to his subject matter, his devotion astounding. As an example of the effective nature of quiet builds of suspense, there are few equals to Army of Shadows. Much of the tension comes from his brilliant mise-en-scene, each shot lovingly composed and colored for maximum impact. Combined with the deft editing by Francoise Bonnot, the film is a visual stunner despite its dark settings. One needs to look no further than when Gerbier is hiding in a dark, abandoned farm house with only a small kerosene lamp to light the dank rooms. Even with the minimal lighting, the shots are perfect. The same can be said for the film's new 35mm print, which has been through a lovely restoration process resulting in a crisp, clean picture.
It is shocking that this film had not seen release in
*****
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