In previous Debriefs, I have expressed my love for the Criterion Collection. In February, when Criterion announced they would be releasing a blu-ray edition of Henri-Georges Clouzot’s classic 1955 film, Diabolique, I knew I would have to pre-order it so I could add it to my library.
Even if you haven’t seen an Alfred Hitchcock film, you’re likely aware of his reputation as the master of suspense. France had their own master of suspense in Henri-Georges Clouzot. In fact, the story goes that Clouzot beat out Hitch by a matter of a few hours in obtaining the rights to the novel that eventually became Diabolique – Celle Qui N’Était Plus (She Who Was No More). Diabolique went on to become a huge critical and box office success. Perhaps out of one-ups-manship or out of respect and inspiration, following Clouzot’s success with Diabolique, Hitchcock went on to make some of his most beloved and thrilling films; The Man Who Knew Too Much, Vertigo, North by Northwest and Psycho. It is hard not to see some of the small details of Clouzot’s work in Hitchcock’s later works, as well as many of the popular thrillers and horror movies of recent times.
When I sat down to write this Debrief, I became more and more confounded by how to approach a discussion about a suspense film without ruining what makes the film so great. I lose no love for the film knowing “the truth” about Diabolique going back to watch it time and time again. I enjoy the spectacle regardless. But I know that some people are particularly caught up in avoiding all spoilers to preserve the purity of that first experience. In my attempt to understand how other writers have introduced Diabolique to their audiences, I surfed through some of the sites of critics and film fans that I follow on Twitter. What I noticed was that many simply dished out the entire story in their discussion of the film. Perhaps this is a nod to the fact that you “should” have already seen this important piece of cinema, but for the unexposed, it takes the fun out of it. Ultimately, this is a continuation of learning about myself. I don’t see myself as a critic and I don’t want to be a critic. There are many writers whose work on film I thoroughly enjoy reading. Some critics write like academics, others like poets. On occasion, I’m envious that they were able to communicate an element of a film with such a level of poetic accuracy. The way I understand it, I do not write like these people. Even if they manage to capture a certain truth about a film that I concur with, I feel like writing too much about any film, in the end, limits another’s experience and reading of that piece of art. I think of myself as a developing curator. Mostly, I’m concerned with creating an event where you take in a great piece of cinema – whether you like the movie or not isn’t always important. But to see it, to take it in, to be a part of that temporary reality is what I’m aiming to inspire. And when it comes to Diabolique, the experience is what is essential. Sit down, turn off your phone and the lights and be a part of that world for two hours.
That being said, I will set up the most basic synopsis possible. Michel Delassalle (Paul Meurisse) runs a rather shoddy boarding school in France. He is married to Christina (Vera Clouzot – the director’s wife), from whom the wealth to buy the boarding school came. Despite Christina’s ownership of the school, Michel is the master. One of the teachers, Nicole Horner (Simone Signoret), is very openly Michel’s lover-on-the-side. Michel physically and emotionally abuses both of the women. He feeds the schoolchildren and his employees rotten fish for dinner in order to save money. Overall, Michel is a huge prick. Fed up with the abuse, Christina and Nicole conspire to kill Michel when the school goes on holiday…
Part of what is great about Clouzot’s work is that it achieves much of the anxiety that makes thrillers memorable without the heavy use of music. Look at the way great horror films like Kubrick’s The Shining and Carpenter’s Halloween use the score to dictate when the audience should feel scared. Try listening to The Shining‘s score on your iPod when you’re going to bed – I guarantee you’ll recognize that music can be an overpoweringly guiding hand in an audience’s range of emotions. Would The Shining or Halloween (to name only two) be nearly as powerful without those scores? That’s up for debate. But with Diabolique, you have a film that achieves a wonderfully tense atmosphere using only the story, the visuals and, to a lesser extent, the editing.
Speaking of the guiding hand, it becomes necessary to bring up how Clouzot had much of Michel’s abuse of the women occur off-screen. Michel has this predatory walk towards Christina and they both walk off-set, Christina cries out “no!” several times and Clouzot cuts to black. The implication is rape, but the audience is witness to none of it. A director can make the decision to show anything on-screen or imply an event happening off-screen, and both can be done effectively or ineffectively. And perhaps there is a tendency to show morally repugnant acts on screen nowadays because it’s a quick method of establishing sympathy for the victim or contempt for the aggressor. But in electing to move such acts off-screen, the story really moves into the imagination of the audience. So all of Michel’s most atrocious acts become whatever we want them to be.
This train of thought leads me to believe that an important part of creating the tension in Diabolique is creating Michel as a kill-worthy character. What is it that makes an audience accept that a character is kill-worthy? In everyday life, this could be a troubling question. But in the world of film, the audience is much more prepared to get behind the death of someone “deserving.” In the film, we are witness to Nicole’s cut above her eye and the incessant brow-beating of Christina, among other things. We hear second hand from Nicole and Christina about how they can not stand Michel. But, the worst of his evil acts all occur off-screen. So when we see these women motivated to take Michel’s life to get free of his abuse, these off-screen moments are primed for us to fill in the most abhorrent of acts. The careful balance between what happens on screen and the allowance of our imagination to impregnate the story with all the most terrible possibilities is what turns a thriller into a great horror film.
