Without a Clue (1988)

While I have always liked Michael Caine, I never really realised how subtle and gifted an actor he is until I saw him in"Educating Rita" (1983). Like many of the great screen actors his roles are often riffs on his own persona, but they exhibit shades of personality and a careful approach to his character, not always apparent at first. Of course 'not many people know' (as the joke goes), that he is willing to appear in some pretty crappy films in exchange for the pay cheque proffered. However even in these, he is never less than watchable and is often the film's one saving grace.

Somehow we acquired -- no doubt through a newspaper promotion -- a set of a dozen or so Caine movies on DVD, largely minor British efforts, rather than big budget Hollywood productions, and I occasionally rewatch these in my downtime. Without a doubt some of these fall into the 'crap' category mentioned above, like "Water" from 1985, where Caine plays the British diplomat on a back-of-beyond Caribbean island, with Billy Connolly as a half-breed rebel fighting for its independence, although even this piece of junk has its moments. Then there is the film above which remains an entertaining amusement.

The movie's clever conceit is that Dr. John Watson was the real brains as a detective and that he paid a ham actor to impersonate his creation, Sherlock Holmes. Caine plays the make-believe Holmes, worshipped by the public, but as stupid as two short planks in reality, while Ben Kingsley (who now insists upon being billed as 'Sirbenkingsley') is the power behind the mask. The equally useless Lestrade is portrayed by the (now disgraced but) always amusing American actor Jeffrey Jones. While the cheeky premise grows a little thin as they investigate the theft of the printing plates for the Bank of England's five pound note, the laughs at Caine's general ineptness are frequent and he certainly throws himself (literally in some scenes) into playing the fool. He is not only a little dim, but also a drinker and a would-be womanizer, but he continues to amaze everyone who subscribes to his myth, while poor Dr. Watson is dismissed as his pathetic sidekick. A witty script supports this witty concept and ensures some minor but very pleasant viewing.

As coincidence would have it, immediately after watching "Wedding in Blood" (1973) last night, I learned of the death of its director, Claude Chabrol. I have always expected his films to be just that little more exciting than they often are, especially as he was supposedly influenced by Alfred Hitchcock's thrillers. His studies of domestic mayhem tend to strike me as somewhat uninvolving, as in last night's selection, which had Michel Piccoli and Stephane Audran (then Chabrol's wife) involved in a torrid love affair and knocking off their inconvenient spouses. However it's always sad losing a creative and prolific talent and the French film world as well as the rest of us can mourn his passing.

A Girl Cut in Two (2007)

I'm not sure why I keep approaching films from French director Claude Chabrol with great anticipation, since while they continue to be well-mounted and well-acted, his psychological thrillers are no longer exactly thrilling. "Bellamy" which I reviewed below at the recent London Film Festival is a case in point, and this one from two years earlier was equally unrewarding. One sits there wondering where in the world the story is headed and even after it reaches its peak, one thinks 'was that really worth the journey?'

Our heroine here is Ludivine Sagnier, one of the less good-looking in a long line of stunning French ingenues -- although she has been glammed up here -- playing a rather naive, yet charming, TV weather girl, Gabrielle. It is something of a stretch to understand why she seems to be so irresistible to all of the men she encounters, from her station manager to aging local celebrity author (Francois Berleand) to a somewhat unstable young playboy (Benoit Magimel) who falls head over heels at his first glimpse of her. Both Magimel's Paul and Berleand's Saint-Denis pursue her ruthlessly, but she only has eyes for the married author and is soon a frequent visitor to his little lovenest for regular sex sessions. On her birthday, as a special treat, he takes her to his club where his old lascivious cronies foam at the mouth at her attractiveness. He then takes her upstairs; while nothing is shown, there is the suggestion, later confirmed, that he has invited them to share a piece of the birthday cake so to speak.

The next day he tells her that he is going to London for a few days, having told his saintly wife that he is likely to be away for some time, and when Gabrielle goes to his flat, she finds the locks have been changed. She takes to bed at this rejection and only her mother's intervention, asking the persistent Paul to take her away, eventually brings her back to life. They go to Portugal where he showers her with gifts and affection, which she receives greedily but for which she gives nothing in return. When he threatens to leave, saying he has had enough of her pining, she offers to marry him per his frequent pleas. It is quite clear that she does not love him but that she can't stand the thought of being alone. In addition, there has been the implication throughout that Paul probably is AC/DC, swinging both ways. After their marriage, he is apparently horrified at some of the sexual practices that she has undoubtedly learned from St. Denis and she rather stupidly has also told him about the club visit. This leads to a final showdown between her two lovers and effectively the end of both relationships.

There is a juicy (that's the relevant word) role for Matilda May playing St. Denis' agent and sexual conspirator, still hugely attractive now in her forties, and the balance of the cast are also very able, especially the actress playing Paul's icy socialite mother. However, what annoyed me most were all of the unanswered questions which may have served to produce a more well-rounded scenario, but which were frustratingly left unexplained. Why, for example, did Paul have such a deep-seated hatred of St. Denis? Why did one of Paul's two younger and uptight sisters appear to have such a roving eye for anything in pants? And what real relevance did Paul's mother's telling Gabrielle of a tragic incident from his childhood have in explaining his somewhat warped behaviour?

The film ends with Gabrielle's taking part in her uncle's magic act, where she lies on a table smiling, ready to produce the illusion that she is being sawn in two. I would guess that Chabrol saw this as a nifty illustration of her emotional history with Paul and St. Denis, but it was a somewhat trite and obvious metaphor for what had transpired during the previous two hours.