Summary
A disillusioned police inspector, Roger Scatti, leads an extreme right-wing cell “Fidélité
Police”, which applies its own notion of justice to underworld crooks – usually in the
form of summary execution. Scatti’s colleague, Inspector Grindel, is initially indifferent
to the cell’s activities but becomes incensed when they turn their fire against their
fellow policemen. As the contest becomes personal, Grindel exerts himself to bring
the breakaway police group to account.
Review
As the crime-thriller genre became increasingly less popular in France in the late 1980s,
film directors were having to work harder to keep the genre fresh and appealing.
Unfortunately, all too often this meant following the example of Hollywood and resorting
to shock tactics – such as extreme violence or sexual explicitness – as a substitute for
content or artistic aesthetics. Ne réveillez pas un flic qui dort
typifies this trend and whilst the film may have had some appeal at the time of its
release, a decade on it feels very dated and shallow.
On the plus side, the film does raise some genuine concerns about the worrying increase
in vigilantism, motivated by extreme rightwing views (perhaps an inevitable backlash to
the abolition of the death penalty in France in early 1980s). Comparisons between
the breakaway police group in this film and the Nazis are, however, unnecessary and are
made in very bad taste. More off-putting is the excess of violence in the film,
which manages to be both sickeningly gratuitous and laughably unconvincing.
Far from saving the film policier, this kind of misguided juvenile tat would merely
serve to hasten its demise.
Despite its obvious faults, the film does have some moments of great tension and drama
– and this is mainly down to the contribution from Alain Delon’s co-star Michel Serrault.
As the singularly unpleasant villain of the piece, Serrault is worryingly believable,
and the fact that he can still shine in such a mediocre work shows that he is an actor
of no mean calibre. By the time he made this film, Alain Delon’s acting career was
on the decline, but his performance here – whilst not his best – is distinguished by a
subtle, dogged humanity. Ultimately, it is the quality of the acting – assisted
by Raoul Coutard’s inventive cinematography – which just about manages to save the film.
Alain Delon, the film's producer, dedicated this film to the memory of actor Jean
Gabin, with whom he had worked on a number of earlier films.
© James Travers 2003
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