LE SAMOURAÏ Blu-ray Review: On the Elegance of a Revolver

Every filmmaker wants the perfect opening shot; but then, can the rest of the film live up to it? Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Samuraï is one such film, that gives not just an iconic opening shot, but many in between, with a story, performances, and a mood that makes it a classic of european crime noir. Arguably the european crime noir. Criterion Collection have recently re-issued the film, with a fresh blu-ray and 4K disc, and some choice extras for the discerning cinephile.

Melville only made a small number of films (sadly passing away much too young before the age of 60), and while they are all good, Le Samuraï has long been considered his greatest work, and with good reason. The presentation of this hit man protagonist, and the last job he'll ever do, captures a unique tone and atmosphere, a combination of French style, American story, and Eastern philosophy that would influence other filmmakers for decades to come.

Our introduction to the protagonist, hit man Jef Costello (Alain Delon), sees him in his very gray apartment, lying on his bed, smoking a cigarette, as he looks up at the ceiling. Neither hero nor anti-hero, his is just a man, caught in a profession and life that perhaps has little meaning for him anymore. He has an assignment to fulfill, and while he covers his bases with his possible girlfriend Jane (Nathalie Delon) and some late night card players, the job to kill a local club owner, while finished, does not exactly go off without a hitch. He is almost caught red-handed by the club's pianist Valérie (Cathy Roser) and spotted by several club employees.

Somehow, Jef still escapes arrest - mainly because Valérie choose not to identify him. One superintendent (François Périer) knows that Jef is guilty of this murder, and others, and makes it his mission to track him down, even if it takes the entire Parisian police force. Meanwhile, perhaps sensing that death is near, Jef finds himself falling in love with Valérie, perhaps a last grasp at the humanity he once knew.

Le Samuraï  has often been called a film of style, and certainly, Melville's style is key to understanding the film. He is not evoking realism, at least not in the time or place. While it's a film filled with fedoras and jazz, smokey clubs and a Paris perhaps of the previous decade that the 1960s, there is a sense of suspension - as if Jef, Valérie and the others have decided they prefer to be suspended in that time which best suits them - Valérie suspended in golden amber, Jef in stone grey.

Valérie might be protecting Jef for her own safety, but it seems she is drawn to him as well. Jef is neither a villain, despite his (presumably) numerous crimes, nor a hero - even anti-hero is not a good word. He in, indeed, a samurai, perhaps a misguided one given his deeds, but he has a code of loyalty and strength, an agile mind that is still and deep. Delon's beautiful face, impassive, deceptively contains multitudes of anger, longing, love, resignation, all in his eyes and the slightest twitch of his cheek. Melville's style in fact is substance - there is so much to be said in how we arrange our lives and its objects.

Like the final walk in the valley of the shadow of death, rarely is Jef allowed a moment to contemplate. From the moment on the bridge when he knows the next hit is on him, the clock ticks - he might be able to pause it briefly, but every wit must be mustered. From the masterful sequence when he escapes the police on the metro, to his final moment, Jef has decided he will exit this life his way, at least as much as he can. Whatever joy he found in life is gone; whatever love he might have found with Valérie is impossible. All that is left is the ennui, a crisis for which, as perhaps is telegraphed at that very first shot, Jef has decided to disengage.

American in story, somewhere between American and Europe in iconography, French in style and tone, Le Samuraï remains an unequaled masterpiece, perhaps a product of its time in that it could only have been by someone like Melville, in the atmosphere of the film industry in the late 1960s.

Special Features

The mastering of the new discs, as usual, ensure the high level of quality to be expected from a Criterion disc, the film looking as fresh and shadowed as it did when first released, the sparse moment of dialogue and music clear and deep.

Interviews with academics Rui Nogueira and Ginette Vincendeau, offer both a general overview of the place of Le Samuraï in Melville's career, as well as an idea of the man and his methods. Nogueira leans a little more into the general of Melville as father of the French New Wave, his expression and presentation of Paris at this particular moment in time, and his unabashed love for the man's work. Vincendeau is perhaps a little more interesting, with specifics insights into how Melville was self-educated, giving an introduction into Melville's directing style and how it applied to his iconic film, and his working style with his actors.

Snippets of inteviews with Melville about the project, as well as his own philosophy of directing and cinema, make for interesting, particularly with the change of venues: seeing the director in the spaces where he works, means seeing him in his second home, and while Melville knew how to play for the press, there is something of that wonder still in his eyes as he discusses his love of filmmaking. Interviews with Alain Delon, Nathalie Delon, Cathy Rosier, and François Périer, from the time of the film's release, give insight to how they saw their job as actors as part of the Melville universe. An additional short doc about Delon and Melville's working relationship and personal friendship is something of a treat - it can be so important to what is seen on screen, and this doc shows how the comfort and camaraderie between the two brought out the best in each other's work.

The booklet essays are more numerous than usual, again making this an edition for both cinephiles and students alike. David Thompson's essay 'Death in White Gloves' places the film in its noir context, as a story somewhat out of time, and its protagonist the distillation of the crime film anti-hero. There is an excerpt from Nogueira's book 'Melville on Melville', an interview with the filmmaker on this film, getting very specific about Melville's choices on design, colour scheme, and character actions and choices.

The highlight of the booklet is an essay by Hong Kong filmmaker John Woo (The Killer, Hard Boiled, Face/Off). Woo was greatly influenced by Melville, calling Le Samouraï "a gangster film made by a gentleman." Woo discusses how the film was a hit in Hong Kong, leading to Woo changing his hair and dress style. But more importantly, how he sees Melville's work as showcasing some eastern philosophy, presenting a different kind of criminal character, how his minimalism actualyl evokes great emotion; it's a joy to read how these fillmmakers from two different worlds have commonalities.