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One of the Most Discussed Films in the History of French Cinema!
Remy Germain is a doctor in a French town who becomes the focus of a vicious smear campaign, as letters accusing him of having an affair and performing unlawful abortions are mailed to village leaders. The mysterious writer, who signs each letter as "Le Corbeau" (The Raven) soon targets the whole town, exposing everyone's dark secrets.
Pretty bitterly grim fable of an anonymous poison pen writer undoing a small provincial French town at the seams by simply shining a light on some of its own shocking, hypocritical behavior. Unfortunately, due to being made during the Nazi occupation of France (and funded by a German production company) it was largely interpreted on release as a depiction of a corrupt French people rather than the dark, anti-informant allegory that it reads as decades later. Clouzot has an exceptional feel for the palpably tense, misanthropic atmosphere he generates and uses just about every visual tool he can (especially lighting and architecture) to show the poisonous and paranoid effect of becoming overly fearful, insular, and cruel in the face of a force of surveillance and threat.
A particularly unsparing look at humanity and our ability to turn on each other, Le Corbeau has been dirtied by history from the day it exited the womb. Made by the German funded Continental Films, Henri-Georges Clouzot was banned from making films until 1947 (lifted from its initial lifelong stamp). It was seen as Anti-French at the time it was made, it is now seen in a more Anti-Nazi light and more broadly an Anti-People light. The misanthropy is locked and loaded even though room is made for people to find each other and for the guilty to go punished.
Le Corbeau addresses the power, cowardice and impact of omnipresent anonymity in a small town that collapses like a house…
Stage 4: Redon > Fougères, 150.4 km (flat) Winner: Mark Cavendish (Deceuninck - Quick Step) Yellow Jersey: Mathieu van der Poel (Alpecin-Fenix) Verdict: The melodrama this Tour de France is high. After the emotional victory of Van der Poel two days ago, today we had another fairytale ending to the stage. Mark Cavendish, objectively the best sprinter of all time, took his 31st victory in the Tour after four (!) years without any major successes. Less than a year ago everyone was certain his career was over, now he's back on the greatest podium the sport has to offer. Truly a comeback story worthy of a feature film.
100-word review: In a small French town, poison pen letters, signed by 'Le…
Anonymous poison-pen letters sent around a small French town, leading to one suicide, one child attempting suicide, one almost suicide attempt that could also be a way to get an abortion, an almost lynching, a psychiatric lock-up, an imprisonment and lots of shouting and suspicious side eyeing.
It’s pretty dark, not even for its time, just in general, what with its unflinching look at our ability to turn on each other when the chips are down. There’s a fair bit of flipping expectations and the central mystery of ‘who is writing these damn things’ really brings the paranoia to the forefront, which works well with the crowded hospitals, small apartments, empty cobblestone streets of the town.
This was made under German occupation and managed to piss them off, as well as the French, both of whom maybe saw a bit too much of themselves in it.
Henri Georges-Clouzot's Le Corbeau is a masterwork of suspense. It toys and twists the audience's perception until we are unsure of which way is right. What Clouzot does best, however, is taking the viewer's expectations and throwing them straight out the window. The traditional tropes and narratives are tossed aside in exchange for a fresher, more intuitive process. The film presents certain evidences as fact, and then proceeds to fly in your face, taking us on an unexpected roller coaster of deception and intrigue.
Le Corbeau is rather short, but the brief length supports the storyline more than hindering it. We aren't subjected to countless vapid subplots or random encounters without meaning. Rather, every conversation and suspenseful moment expertly leads…
“you think people are all good or all bad. you think good means light and bad means night. but where does the night end and light begin? where is the frontier? do you even know which side you belong on?”
I definitely need to watch more international films from the studio era because I’ve been severely deprived of hearing people call each other little bitches in 1940s garb.
Made in Occupied France, Le Corbeau is a powerful statement on trust and secrecy. It is about rumours spread by letters, a representation of informing on others and spreading lies. Some parallels to the Gestapo are obvious, though there is no such organisation in Le Corbeau, just a society always looking for accusations. Le Corbeau is a portrayal of French weakness, depicting paranoia, pettiness, and self-loathing from within a terrified society. The characters may talk of faith, but they fail to preserve family values. Instead they are accused of affairs, admit to drug-taking, and keep a whole world of dirty secrets. Le Corbeau is a look at a hypocritical, naïve society ill-suited to pressure and scrutiny, such as would happen under occupation. No wonder Le Corbeau caused controversy upon release. Still it's a daring and powerful film that pushes us to consider a mindset which the French people of the time had to grapple with.
Viewers looking for another older film with an eerily clairvoyant air after finishing Contagion may wish to check out Henri-Georges Clouzot's film. What's it got? It's got haunting deserted streets, packed hospitals, an atmosphere of broiling mutual suspicion and the chattering classes arbitrarily deciding this is all Corbin's fault. Granted, the plague here is a purely metaphorical one, of hate and mistrust created by some precision-targeted poison pen letters. But the picture of social breakdown feels extremely well-observed.
That's probably because it was. Those streets are empty because Clouzot was filming during World War II. Compared to a later Clouzot film like The Wages of Fear, with its tactile, lived-in world, The Raven feels awfully cramped and stage-bound - but…
The power of anonymity in tearing apart the fabric of a community, exposing or warping the truest nature of its denizens and their distinctions, letter by letter by letter. As a paradoxically libelous source of integrity among all those who put on a face to some degree for reasons all their own, The Raven seeks to ply individuals with rumors of themselves and each other, their central focus falling on one Doctor Germain and his private, moreover illicit wrongdoings. The accused puff their chests out in admonishment of what they've heard from others and shrink when learning what's heard of them, purported truths twisting the townsfolk up and into a state…
A controversial mystery masterpiece of superb craft which thrilling atmosphere is exceptionally highlighted by its religious subtext and an ending of Gothic proportions. It's wonderful how the opening, lit scene of the film contrasts the "dark angel of vengeance" of the final shot. Clouzot was a genius.
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