Credits Director:
André Berthomieu
Script: André
Berthomieu
Photo: Charles Suin
Music: Paul Misraki
Cast: Jacques Hélian
(Lui-même), Jeanne Moreau (Pâquerette),
Henri Génès (Gustave), Gabriel Cattand (Jean-Pierre Francis),
Albert Dinan (Monsieur Jo), Claude Nollier (Simone)
Runtime: 85 min; B&W
Summary With work hard to come by, musician Jacques Hélian
and his orchestra end up working in an unpopular night club in the Pigalle
district of Paris. The club’s owner, Monsieur Jo, is mixed up with
a band of gangsters and has to resort to robbing a bank to keep his business
solvent. Seeing that Jo now has money, Hélian demands payment
for his musicians. He is duly paid but a short while later he is
attacked and the money stolen. On discovering that the money has
ended up back in Jo’s safe, the musicians reclaim the money and hastily
quit the scene. A short while later, the musicians and staff of the
Pigalle night club are re-united, working together in a basement night
club in Saint-Germain. The club is frequented by young existentialists
and proves to be a great success – at least until Jo’s gangster friends
put in an appearance…
Review Film musicals are a rare phenomenon in French cinema,
with only a few such films (for example, René Clair’s Le
Million) bearing comparison with their American counterparts.
Of those French films which are nominally classified as musicals most are
anything but, with the music often lazily inserted into the narrative as
a cheap time-filler. Pigalle-Saint-Germain-des-Prés
is a good example of this and shows how badly wrong things can go if the
musical format is used inappropriately.
The main problem with this
film is that it has a major crisis of identity, not really knowing what
it is. Is it a musical? Is it a gangster film? Is it
a comedy? Is it a romance? Or is it a portrait of young people
enjoying themselves? The film’s pick-and-mix approach and absurdly
pedestrian plot make it difficult to take seriously and harder to watch.
The only relief comes from the uplifting musical interludes, courtesy of
Jacques Hélian (who stars in the film) and his magnificent orchestra.
For those who are not fans
of Jacques Hélian and his music, the only other reason for watching
the film is to see Jeanne Moreau in one of her earliest screen roles.
Even at this early stage in her career, Moreau is captivating and her performance
gives the film a touch of class which is so clearly lacking elsewhere.
Although Moreau’s part gives her little opportunity to show her true acting
talents, you do get a sense that here is an actress with something special.
Whenever the camera locks onto her face, you cannot help noticing something
singularly dark and troubling in her expression. There is more than
a hint of the femme anarchiste role which would earn Moreau her
reputation in the following decade, with the complicity of the directors
of the French New Wave.
©
James Travers 2003 |
|
 |