Death in a French Garden (1985)

Very disappointing...

I like movies that are aware of what they are selling... without [any] greater aspirations than to make people laugh and that's it.

It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

Exactly the movie you think it is, but not the movie you want it to be.

One of the movies that keep on running long after you've stopped watching. One of those paradoxical stories, that become the more confused the more one understands. One of those one is tempted to watch again and again, hoping to understand this time, at the same time anxious to spoil the commitment by finally finding out what it's all about. Perhaps paradox is the key. Nicole Garcia's tempting beyond all limits turns out to be destruction (poor telephone!), Piccoli's apparent impotence turns out to be masterminding some hideous plan, Bohringer's menacing ways lead to redemption. The more Malavoy gets into the mess, the more lustfully he ventures on getting even deeper into it. Malavoy's father hands the little time-bomb to his son as if it was his old watch or camera, wishing him luck and grinning as if it's been just another visit of a beloved child. And things become boring once they're solved and all the hoods dead. What's left is a country community on an old farm. Who wouldn't yearn to be back in the beautiful and elegant bourgeois world Malavoy and his pupil have just left, the corruption and conspiracy it conceals below an innocent surface not being an odd, but the matter you actually want.

Michel Deville is a French filmmaker known for his aesthetic refinement and "Péril en la Demeure" bears its author's trademark. It's filmed with elegance and everything from the scenery to the acting, the camera angles to the music without mentioning witty dialogs breathes the refined. One can't forget the neat link shots, the fluid editing that add to the pernicious charm this shady thriller exudes from its three exploited mainsprings: perversion, manipulation and voyeurism. Nearly everyone in this film is a peeping tom like the offbeat female neighborhood (Anémone) who films the lovemaking between the guitarist teacher David (Christophe Malavoy) and Julia (Nicole Garcia) or Julia's husband Graham (Michel Piccoli) who watched these lovemaking sessions on the videotape. As for the manipulation, Julia leads David up the garden path by making him believe that he killed her husband while seasoned killer Daniel (Richard Bohringer) tries to make him understand that he's got a mission to fulfill.Deville diverts the codes, the ingredients of the genre to his own advantage to create a stylish, idiosyncratic thriller and a mirror film directed to the viewer about his peeping tom side. It's easy to let oneself immerse in this universe and to forget the irregularities or glitches that undermine a little the storytelling even if Deville has recourse to zones of shadow and clues likely to explain the characters' motivations. If the filmmaker bore this in mind, he can be forgiven for his possible mistakes.

Although the film has some very beautiful & erotically tense scenes, the little & few dialogues, combined with moody glares, make even some of the completely silent scenes very threatening. It's a little like listening to the rumbling of a live volcano, not being able to run and wondering if, and when it will erupt.

Péril en la demeure is a rather unusual little thriller, in which musician David Aurphet starts an affair with the mother of his pupil. Her husband finds out and David's life has some nightmarish turns. I have to admit that my description makes it sound rather conventional but it certainly is not.It is debatable how well this film works as a thriller, but there is no doubt that the love scenes between Nicole Garcia and Christophe Malavoy are absolutely stunning. They ooze sensuality and are almost like a ballet, both people moving sensitively, slowly, and silently, suggesting, responding to the other, teasing and hesitating, touching and retreating. These few little scenes belong to the most erotic moments ever to be put on celluloid.