The film's biggest handicap is its plot, which is inordinately complex.  Tellingly, neither the film's screenwriter nor its director saw the need to simplify the plot and render it comprehensible to the average cinemagoer.   That, combined with a plodding narrative style, some clumsy attempts at comedy, and generally lacklustre direction, render the film painfully tiresome to sit through.

It is hard to dispute that Albert Préjean is one of France’s most important film actors, but he is clearly miscast in the role of Maigret.  His portrayal of the famed Gallic detective is about as bland and anemic as it could be, with none of the character fashioned by Simenon in his novels.  Simenon’s Maigret certainly would not have allowed himself to saddled with the incompetent oaf Lucas (played with comic ineptitude by André Gabriello) seen in this film.  Unfortunately, most of the rest of the cast are equally as unimpressive, and what we get are uninspired performances of some very dull characters.  The only relief from this cavalcade of complacent monotony is provided by Edouard Delmont’s creepy Le Cloaguen and Jean Tissier faintly potty Mascouvin. 

© James Travers 2003