Sadly Over-hyped

everything you have heard about this movie is true.

A lot more amusing than I thought it would be.

It is neither dumb nor smart enough to be fun, and spends way too much time with its boring human characters.

A self-assured business man murders his employer, the husband of his mistress, which unintentionally provokes an ill-fated chain of events.Journalist Barry Farrell wrote, "Moreau had 20 forgettable films behind her... Malle put Moreau under an honest light and wisely let his camera linger. The film was nothing special, but it did accomplish one thing: it proposed a new ideal of cinematic realism, a new way to look at a woman. All the drama in the story was in Moreau's face – the face that had been hidden behind cosmetics and flattering lights in all her earlier films." Farrell is certainly right about the portrayal of Moreau. How can you make a leading lady anything but glamorous? Malle found a way that was quite successful.As for the film being "nothing special", I think Farrell is wrong. A 1950s French film noir that is well executed? This is something we need more of. Starting with a murder and then spreading out from there, this is a good story of suspense, intrigue and all that. The whole concept of being caught in an elevator is incredible, and probably unprecedented.

Ascenseur pour l'échafaud (AKA: Elevator to the Gallows/Lift to the Scaffold) is directed by Louis Malle and co-written by Malle, Roger Nimier and Noël Calef (novel). It stars Jeanne Moreau, Maurice Ronet, Georges Poujouly, Yori Bertin and Jean Wall. Music is by Miles Davis and cinematography by Henri Decaë. A little ole devil this one, a sly slow pacer that itches away at your skin. Rightly seen as a bridging movie between the classic film noir cycle and the nouvelle vague, Malle's movie is in truth straightforward on narrative terms. Julien Tavernier (Ronet) is going to kill husband of his lover, Florence Carala (Moreau), who also happens to be his boss, but upon executing the perfect murder, he, through his own absent mindedness, winds up stuck in a lift close to the crime scene. Outside Florence is frantically awaiting his arrival so as to begin their life together in earnest, but when a couple of young lovers steal Julien's car, Florence gets the wrong end of the stick and a sequence of events lead to Julien and Florence hitching that ride to the gallows. Simplicity of narrative be damned, Malle's movie is a classic case of that mattering not one jot. There is style to burn here, with bleak atmospherics dripping from every frame, and Miles Davis' sultry jazz music hovers over proceedings like a sleazy grim reaper. The ironic twists in the writing come straight off the bus to noirville, putting stings in the tale, the smart reverse of the norm finding Moreau (sensual) wandering the streets looking for her male lover, while elsewhere he's in isolation and a doppleganger murder scenario is cunningly being played out. Decaë's photography has a moody desperation about it that so fits the story, the use of natural light making fellow French film makers sit up and take notice. While the dialogue, and the caustic aside to arms dealings, ensures we know that Malle can be a sly old fox. He really should have done more noir like pictures. A film that convinces us that Julien and Florence are deeply in love and passionate about each other, and yet they never are once together in the whole movie! It's just one of the many wonderful things about Louis Malle's excellent picture. Remember folks, the camera never lies... 9/10

Elevator to the Gallows, directed by Louis Malle, came out in France in 1958, the same year as Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo- and they bear noticeable similarities. Indeed, the Criterion Collection's booklet on Elevator cites Hitchcock as an influence on Malle. Both films are about attempts to carry out the perfect murder, with classic motives. Both are atmospheric and rich. Elevator to the Gallows may not be as famous, and I think it's somewhat underrated- Leonard Maltin gave it a lukewarm rating and claimed it "doesn't hold up," but failed to explain how and by what standards. He even got the name of the movie wrong, calling it by its bastardized title Frantic. I'd say Malle's film is one of the best I've seen from France and from the 1950s.In it, Julien Tavernier kills a man named Simon Carala because he's in love with Carala's wife Florence, played by the beautiful Jeanne Moreau. He tries to make it look like suicide, then forgets a key piece of evidence outside the scene of the crime. Going back to get it, he gets caught in the elevator, while his car is stolen by a young couple. The young man impersonates Tavernier, and then commits a murder of his own, for which the real Tavernier is blamed by the French press (which evidently doesn't have to obey libel laws).Elevator is a very good yarn, as two separate murders happen to be thrown together as a wicked twist of fate, with guns fired not by their owners. Some reviewers have questioned how Tavernier could have forgotten such an important piece of evidence, but come on- he had committed a crime, and probably wanted to be done with it as quickly as possible; forgetting things is understandable under the stressful circumstances. Like Orson Welles with Citizen Kane, Malle made a real cinematic achievement at a young age, and more people should see this movie.

"Lift to the Scaffold" is quite a stunning film and a neat summation of all the lessons that had been learned about the art of film making up until the point of its release.Ostensibly a noir thriller dotted with elements of French farce, it makes complex use of cinematographic devices to develop its key themes. Largely the film is about the role of fate and how an unfortunate series of events leads to justice being served. It is also about how a woman's vengeful fury serves to destroy not only her lover but herself.That woman's psychological state throughout the film is highlighted in myriad ways. A lone figure, she walks aimlessly through places of socialisation in the city, such as cafés, oblivious to the rain that reflects her darkening mood. The use of a whispered monologue conveys her thoughts and a bleak jazz soundtrack her mood. Mobile cameras, outdoor steps and superb lighting during the close-ups of Moreau's face heighten the sense of isolation in a very concrete, modern world.The perfect crime is undone by coincidences including a telephone call at precisely the wrong moment, an elevator's power being cut for the night, the highly unlikely event of a car theft and the killer being accused of the wrong murder.Throughout the film, commentary is made on the nature of war. The murder victim is a ruthless profiteer who trades on the misery of others yet meets a violent end because he cannot pleasure his wife adequately. The murderer is known to be a ruthless, former military man yet there are questions if he is brave enough to kill now he can no longer hide in the cowardly world of the armed forces. The events in Indo-China and Algeria are also referenced as places where France is inflicting suffering to make the business world richer.There are also references to the German occupation of France but, whereas the Germans had moved on, they also note that the French are still committing atrocities in the name of imperialism.Despite this bleak narrative, there are moments of farce. Besides the key event of the car theft, a black cat appearing, ridiculously, on the tenth story balcony of the office block foretells of the disaster awaiting the murderer. Likewise, when he finally escapes from the lift, the vehicle standing where he had left his car is a comical three-wheeler.The interrogation scene is wonderfully filmed, the three key actors in that setting standing out from a black backdrop. Their drama is amusing and ironic to the audience as they know the killer is being interrogated for the wrong murders but it is played with total conviction and integrity.The final scenes are beautiful with the convicting photographic image fading into view. Likewise, the latter photos that convict Moreau's character lie tranquilly in their chemical baths against a black background in the dark room. Her reflection is then scene in this bath gazing down at herself in horror and guilt as she realises she is condemned to a lengthy prison sentence. It is her lack of forgiveness and quickness to accuse her lover that has led to her downfall. All she can do is futilely stroke his image, rippling the chemical bath.For its wonderful cinematography, lighting, music and acting, this film is a revelation. Likewise, it is a brave film commenting on the then-current events of what France was doing to its overseas colonies. The farcical humour and deliberately-contrived plot may be hard for some non-French to digest and, indeed, maybe an outright distraction but there is still a wonderful film to enjoy if one looks beyond that. Indeed, Malle here proves himself a craftsman at the top of his profession.