Despite having the admittedly remarkable cast of Alain Delon, Ornella Muti, Stephane Audran, Mireille Darc, Maurice Ronet and Klaus Kinski, Georges Lautner’s 1978 thriller Mort d’un Pourri (Death Of A Corrupt Man) isn’t as noteworthy as it might seem. The Cesar nominated film, despite some intriguing and powerful moments, finally falls a bit flat due to an overly convoluted script and some downright odd directorial decisions by Lautner.
Born in Nice in the early part of 1926, Lautner got his start as an Assistant Director and actor in a number of French films throughout the fifties. Graduating to the director’s chair in 1958, Lautner delivered around forty or so features up until the early nineties when he mostly switched to television productions.
Mort d’un Pourri is a political thriller based on a Raf Vallet novel and adapted by talented Michel Audiard. The extremely prolific and Cesar winning Audiard had his work cut out for him adapting Vallet’s complex and cynical tale of a man caught up in a world where everyone is seemingly corrupt and it shows as the final script for Mort d’un Pourri is just too layered for its own good. At nearly two hours, the film is quite exhausting and one can’t help thinking that a more toned down distillation of the novel’s themes might have worked better for the screen.
The Delon produced Mort d’un Pourri is an extremely attractive production thanks to the always noteworthy Henri Decae, who provides some typically wonderful photography here. The Stan Getz performed Phillippe Sarde score is also a thing of beauty and the soundtrack is ultimately more recommended than the film it graces.
The cast is uniformly fine and if the film is finally ultimately disappointing, then it is at least worth a look due to the actors involved with it. Delon dominates the film and is featured in nearly every scene. Just past the height of his beauty in 1978, Delon has begun to take on the sad world-weariness that he play so well throughout the eighties and nineties. He is quite good in this role, although finally it isn’t among his great works, and the Cesar nomination he received for it was well deserved.
Although billed just below Delon in the film, breathtaking Ornella Muti has a surprisingly smaller role in the film and one cant help but wonder what more screen time for her might have done for the production. As always, she is a wonder to watch and looks lovely under the thoughtful lenses of Decae.
The rest of the cast is fine, although some of their work, specifically Kinski, was hurt by some truly atrocious dubbing in the version I saw. Still seeing Alain Delon and Klaus Kinski working together in a few scenes is remarkable.
Mort d’un Pourri is finally damaged the most by the rather flat direction of Lautner, whose work here is competent but never all that inspired (although it should be mentioned that there are some nice visual motifs repeated throughout the picture that I have tried to highlight with the sceenshots here). Honestly, it would have been preferable to have Delon directing the picture himself as it seems fairly obvious he was pulling many of the behind the scenes strings in general. There is a great film somewhere in Mort d’un Pourri, but unfortunately it never comes out and as it is it is just an average entry in the French Crime Thriller genre of the seventies.
Lautner’s film did fairly well in French cinemas in the early part of 78 and it played throughout the year all over the world. It has never, to my knowledge, had a legitimate home video release in America and is currently only available on DVD in Europe. Fans of the genre, Delon and Muti should of course seek it out but it remains a flawed film that could have been something really special.
To view some of the poster designs for this film, please visit my Harry Moseby Confidential.
THE MOON IN THE GUTTER ARCHIVES
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Slave To Love: The Fabled Workprint Of Nine ½ Weeks
One of my favorite features that the IMDB carries is the ‘alternate versions’ and ‘trivia’ sections for their individual film listings. The listing for Adrian Lyne’s Nine ½ Weeks is particularly interesting as it includes some information on the fabled ‘workprint’ version which has still yet to see a legitimate release. A quick run through shows that one of his most controversial films was subjected to some of the most studio interference, a fact that makes a special edition DVD of the film with his original cut a much needed release.
Of course, rumors of Lyne’s original cut have been floating around for years. Mickey Rourke himself spoke of it in a Playboy interview after the films release, stating that Lyne’s version was a flat out ‘masterpiece’. It is also known that MGM sent the film through well over twenty test screenings and finally removed more than an hour from it in an attempt to make it more commercial, and Rourke’s character more likeable.
Recently I revisted Nine ½ Weeks for the first time in well over a decade and I must say the film, even in its tampered and butchered state, has aged quite well. Obviously many of the fashions and some of the music has dated but when the film works, it still feels as fresh and as scintillating as ever. Lyne remains after over three decades in the directors chair one of cinema’s premiere stylists and Nine ½ Weeks is still one of his definitive productions.
Watching Nine ½ Weeks today is an eye opening experience on many levels. It is hard to believe the furor that the film caused back in 1986 but this was indeed one of the most controversial productions Hollywood had ever put out. The film still has some punch although the last twenty years has taken some of the sting away, which is good in a way as it allows a fresher eye to view it with.
Key to the film’s success is the casting of Kim Basinger in the lead role as Elizabeth. Basinger has always been an underrated actress in my book and I find her work in this film to be particularly resonating. I find it hard to believe that such a provocative, brave and go for broke performance was nominated for a Razzie award that year but indeed it was. Mickey Rourke was really at the top of his game here and his work as the seedy but seductive Wall street businessman John is one of his definitive turns. No other actor could have played the mysterious part with as much cool conviction as Rourke does.
The film does indeed work best in the many scenes featuring just Basinger and Rourke. Both of them are at the height of their beauty here and the heat they manage to generate, even in some of the film’s stilted dialogue scenes, pretty much guarantee that it will always have some bite.
As a visual exercise the film is still a wonder to behold. I always thought an interesting experiment would have been to make this into a silent film with the chemistry between Rourke and Basinger acting as dialogue.
The script co-written by Zalman King (from the Elizabeth McNeil novel) is the film’s biggest liability, although I agree with King’s contention that there is something wrong with a society that will accept films driven by violence and not by sex. I suspect that his script works much better and feels more complete in Lyne’s preferred longer cut. As it is in the theatrical print, the script feels a bit choppy and not fully formed.
Complaints that the film feels too much like a music video are perhaps valid in spots but damn, with Adrien Lyne filming it who cares. This guy has such a grasp on what he is attempting to capture that I have trouble arguing with any of his shots. His work here with Peter Biziou as DP is extraordinary especially in the films masterful lit love scenes, which feel like David Hamilton photographing Blade Runner. The two would work together again on another one of Lyne’s best works, 2002’s Unfaithful.
Outside of the films sex scenes, it was best known in 1986 for its soundtrack, which was a huge hit. Jack Nitzsche’s score is good but feels underused and I wonder if Lyne’s cut has more of it and less of the songs that ended up being put in the film. The songs themselves are a mixed bag but Bryan Ferry’s lovely and imaginative “Slave To Love” remains one of the great songs from an eighties film. Lyne’s images of Basinger and Rourke set to it remain as stirring and as powerful as ever.
Nine ½ Weeks is more than deserving of a solid DVD release with Lyne’s original cut. I think it would surprise a lot of people who have always just considered the film a soft-core failure. As it stands, the film is still one of the most definitive works of the eighties and I must say I really enjoyed revisiting it again after so many years. I would love to write a full post on the Lyne’s original version, and will if I ever get a chance to see it.
Of course, rumors of Lyne’s original cut have been floating around for years. Mickey Rourke himself spoke of it in a Playboy interview after the films release, stating that Lyne’s version was a flat out ‘masterpiece’. It is also known that MGM sent the film through well over twenty test screenings and finally removed more than an hour from it in an attempt to make it more commercial, and Rourke’s character more likeable.
Recently I revisted Nine ½ Weeks for the first time in well over a decade and I must say the film, even in its tampered and butchered state, has aged quite well. Obviously many of the fashions and some of the music has dated but when the film works, it still feels as fresh and as scintillating as ever. Lyne remains after over three decades in the directors chair one of cinema’s premiere stylists and Nine ½ Weeks is still one of his definitive productions. Watching Nine ½ Weeks today is an eye opening experience on many levels. It is hard to believe the furor that the film caused back in 1986 but this was indeed one of the most controversial productions Hollywood had ever put out. The film still has some punch although the last twenty years has taken some of the sting away, which is good in a way as it allows a fresher eye to view it with.
Key to the film’s success is the casting of Kim Basinger in the lead role as Elizabeth. Basinger has always been an underrated actress in my book and I find her work in this film to be particularly resonating. I find it hard to believe that such a provocative, brave and go for broke performance was nominated for a Razzie award that year but indeed it was. Mickey Rourke was really at the top of his game here and his work as the seedy but seductive Wall street businessman John is one of his definitive turns. No other actor could have played the mysterious part with as much cool conviction as Rourke does.
The film does indeed work best in the many scenes featuring just Basinger and Rourke. Both of them are at the height of their beauty here and the heat they manage to generate, even in some of the film’s stilted dialogue scenes, pretty much guarantee that it will always have some bite.
As a visual exercise the film is still a wonder to behold. I always thought an interesting experiment would have been to make this into a silent film with the chemistry between Rourke and Basinger acting as dialogue.
The script co-written by Zalman King (from the Elizabeth McNeil novel) is the film’s biggest liability, although I agree with King’s contention that there is something wrong with a society that will accept films driven by violence and not by sex. I suspect that his script works much better and feels more complete in Lyne’s preferred longer cut. As it is in the theatrical print, the script feels a bit choppy and not fully formed.
Complaints that the film feels too much like a music video are perhaps valid in spots but damn, with Adrien Lyne filming it who cares. This guy has such a grasp on what he is attempting to capture that I have trouble arguing with any of his shots. His work here with Peter Biziou as DP is extraordinary especially in the films masterful lit love scenes, which feel like David Hamilton photographing Blade Runner. The two would work together again on another one of Lyne’s best works, 2002’s Unfaithful.
Outside of the films sex scenes, it was best known in 1986 for its soundtrack, which was a huge hit. Jack Nitzsche’s score is good but feels underused and I wonder if Lyne’s cut has more of it and less of the songs that ended up being put in the film. The songs themselves are a mixed bag but Bryan Ferry’s lovely and imaginative “Slave To Love” remains one of the great songs from an eighties film. Lyne’s images of Basinger and Rourke set to it remain as stirring and as powerful as ever.
Nine ½ Weeks is more than deserving of a solid DVD release with Lyne’s original cut. I think it would surprise a lot of people who have always just considered the film a soft-core failure. As it stands, the film is still one of the most definitive works of the eighties and I must say I really enjoyed revisiting it again after so many years. I would love to write a full post on the Lyne’s original version, and will if I ever get a chance to see it.
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