Henri-Georges Clouzot's Inferno (2009) ****
Inferno (L'Enfer) (1964) was to be director Henri-George Clouzot's twelfth film but was abandoned after Clouzot suffered a heart attack, following multiple production woes. Henri-Georges Clouzot's Inferno (2009) is part documentary, part reconstruction (from 185 reels of footage) of the film that never was.
According to Wikipedia, Serge Bromberg, one of the directors of H-GC's Inferno, was "caught for two hours in a stalled elevator with a woman who turned out to be Clouzot's second wife, Inès de Gonzalez. Upon learning the identity of the woman and of the existence of the footage, Bromberg convinced her to release it to make his film."
Inferno is the story of hotel manager Marcel (Serge Reggiani) and his extreme jealousy towards his younger wife Odette (Romy Schneider). Supposedly Columbia Pictures provided an unlimited budget, and 3 camera crews, including 150 technicians were employed. Unfortunately, one problem after another seemed to beset the film, including the director and Reggiani clashing, the production falling well behind schedule, the assistant director and Reggiani walking out, and finally Clouzot's heart attack, no doubt brought upon by stress.
This is retold by members of the crew, as well as archive interviews with the director himself, which forms the documentary part of H-GC's Inferno. They speak of Clouzot's Kubrickian levels of perfectionism on this particular production, how he obsessed over his shots. Which is very interesting, considering how part of what he was trying to do was to prove (largely to the Nouvelle Vague, who rejected him for such formalism) that he could make an experimental film.
Mixed with these interviews (which are always engaging) is both the footage shot and actors portraying the characters in some scenes (basically a read-through with minimal lighting and almost no set design). Re: the latter it could have come off as cheesy, but both the actors are good, so it didn't bother me, though it's probably my least favorite part of the documentary.
The real showpiece of H-GC's Inferno though is, of course, the footage that survives, which has been cleaned up and truly shines. I found myself transfixed by the mesmerizing, psychedelic imagery. Romy Schneider and Dany Carrel positively ooze sensuality—there is an unmatched sexuality on display, which hadn't really been seen in popular film up to that point (that I can recall at least). The use of lighting, in-camera f/x, and juxtaposition of B&W and color (to portray Marcel's paranoiac fantasy sequences) is simply astounding.
There's a definite Hitchcock vibe—echoing everything from Spellbound (1945) to Vertigo (1958) to Psycho (1960)—fitting since Clouzot was an admirer of Hitchcock's and bought the rights to the novel that his film Diabolique (1955) was based on, preventing Hitch from making it. But this clearly would have been no copycat film. The excellent and moody jazz score by Bruno Alexiu perfectly compliments this fascinating semi-doc, setting a relaxed yet electric tone.
With smart editing and had the finished film turned out as well as it potentially could have, I truly believe that Inferno would have set the filmmaking world on fire (forgive the pun) and would have been comparable to Psycho in regards to a cinematic depiction of psychoses. It wasn't until four years later that Clouzot made his final film, La Prisonnière (1968), which I have yet to see. It really is one of cinema's tragedies that this film never got made. What we're left with at least is one of the best documentaries about a film that I’ve seen.
According to Wikipedia, Serge Bromberg, one of the directors of H-GC's Inferno, was "caught for two hours in a stalled elevator with a woman who turned out to be Clouzot's second wife, Inès de Gonzalez. Upon learning the identity of the woman and of the existence of the footage, Bromberg convinced her to release it to make his film."
Inferno is the story of hotel manager Marcel (Serge Reggiani) and his extreme jealousy towards his younger wife Odette (Romy Schneider). Supposedly Columbia Pictures provided an unlimited budget, and 3 camera crews, including 150 technicians were employed. Unfortunately, one problem after another seemed to beset the film, including the director and Reggiani clashing, the production falling well behind schedule, the assistant director and Reggiani walking out, and finally Clouzot's heart attack, no doubt brought upon by stress.
This is retold by members of the crew, as well as archive interviews with the director himself, which forms the documentary part of H-GC's Inferno. They speak of Clouzot's Kubrickian levels of perfectionism on this particular production, how he obsessed over his shots. Which is very interesting, considering how part of what he was trying to do was to prove (largely to the Nouvelle Vague, who rejected him for such formalism) that he could make an experimental film.
Mixed with these interviews (which are always engaging) is both the footage shot and actors portraying the characters in some scenes (basically a read-through with minimal lighting and almost no set design). Re: the latter it could have come off as cheesy, but both the actors are good, so it didn't bother me, though it's probably my least favorite part of the documentary.
The real showpiece of H-GC's Inferno though is, of course, the footage that survives, which has been cleaned up and truly shines. I found myself transfixed by the mesmerizing, psychedelic imagery. Romy Schneider and Dany Carrel positively ooze sensuality—there is an unmatched sexuality on display, which hadn't really been seen in popular film up to that point (that I can recall at least). The use of lighting, in-camera f/x, and juxtaposition of B&W and color (to portray Marcel's paranoiac fantasy sequences) is simply astounding.
There's a definite Hitchcock vibe—echoing everything from Spellbound (1945) to Vertigo (1958) to Psycho (1960)—fitting since Clouzot was an admirer of Hitchcock's and bought the rights to the novel that his film Diabolique (1955) was based on, preventing Hitch from making it. But this clearly would have been no copycat film. The excellent and moody jazz score by Bruno Alexiu perfectly compliments this fascinating semi-doc, setting a relaxed yet electric tone.
With smart editing and had the finished film turned out as well as it potentially could have, I truly believe that Inferno would have set the filmmaking world on fire (forgive the pun) and would have been comparable to Psycho in regards to a cinematic depiction of psychoses. It wasn't until four years later that Clouzot made his final film, La Prisonnière (1968), which I have yet to see. It really is one of cinema's tragedies that this film never got made. What we're left with at least is one of the best documentaries about a film that I’ve seen.
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