Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Cercle Rouge follows the lives of two criminals: Vogel (Gian Maria Volontè), a murderer who gives the cops the slip while he's being transferred from one city to another by train; and Corey (Allain Delon), a thief just released from jail. Fate decides to join these two men to pull off a spectacular heist. In the background there is Matei (André Bourvil), the detective Vogel escapes from, implacable in his pursuit and sometimes ruthless in his methods. Along the movie the viewer meets other minor but fascinating characters, the best of which is Jansen (Yves Montand), a disgraced ex-cop and an excellent marksman.
Melville has such a unique style one doesn't need to watch many of his movies to catch on. Le Samourai, Un Flic and Le Cercle Rouge are clearly made of the same cloth: the symmetrical angles; the long shots; the silences; the coats and hats and cigars; the quotes at the beginning; the amazing heists, the fatalism; the unglamorous and inglorious criminal life. Everything that's great in Melville is present here in top form.
And his shortcomings didn't bother me so much this time: the illogical, perplexing behavior of his characters and confusing storytelling, which hurt my enjoyment of his other movies, are almost invisible here. Since Le Cercle Rouge preceded Un Flic that doesn't mean he got better with time; perhaps I'm just getting more used to it and reaching a mindset where it doesn't bother me anymore.
Melville made unique crime movies. As old as they may be, they show more ingenuity, realism and grace than the modern techno-thrillers in which cool thieves use computer systems and James Bond-esquire gadgets to pull off impossible crimes. Melville's criminals aren't cool: they're lonely, socially awkward and probably aware they're not good for much more than planning heists. They're society's unwanted, living in the night, always one step ahead of the police in a game they know they'll lose eventually. There's nothing romantic about them.
Amazingly for a movie of this type, the cops aren't complete idiots either. Matei is smart, crafty, patient and even compassionate. He's not an unlikeable villain or a cliché, he's just an old man doing his job and doing it right. He knows when to use force and when to use brains. Many movies could learn from him.
It's this down-to-earth, unromantic style that makes Melville's movies such a joy to watch and puts him on a special pedestal as one of cinema's great crime masters.
Melville has such a unique style one doesn't need to watch many of his movies to catch on. Le Samourai, Un Flic and Le Cercle Rouge are clearly made of the same cloth: the symmetrical angles; the long shots; the silences; the coats and hats and cigars; the quotes at the beginning; the amazing heists, the fatalism; the unglamorous and inglorious criminal life. Everything that's great in Melville is present here in top form.
And his shortcomings didn't bother me so much this time: the illogical, perplexing behavior of his characters and confusing storytelling, which hurt my enjoyment of his other movies, are almost invisible here. Since Le Cercle Rouge preceded Un Flic that doesn't mean he got better with time; perhaps I'm just getting more used to it and reaching a mindset where it doesn't bother me anymore.
Melville made unique crime movies. As old as they may be, they show more ingenuity, realism and grace than the modern techno-thrillers in which cool thieves use computer systems and James Bond-esquire gadgets to pull off impossible crimes. Melville's criminals aren't cool: they're lonely, socially awkward and probably aware they're not good for much more than planning heists. They're society's unwanted, living in the night, always one step ahead of the police in a game they know they'll lose eventually. There's nothing romantic about them.
Amazingly for a movie of this type, the cops aren't complete idiots either. Matei is smart, crafty, patient and even compassionate. He's not an unlikeable villain or a cliché, he's just an old man doing his job and doing it right. He knows when to use force and when to use brains. Many movies could learn from him.
It's this down-to-earth, unromantic style that makes Melville's movies such a joy to watch and puts him on a special pedestal as one of cinema's great crime masters.