Movie Review: Le Samourai, Starring Alain Delon, Directed by Jean-Pierre Melville (1967)

 

The cover of the Criterion Collection Blu-Ray of Le Samourai, starring Alain Delon, directed by Jean-Pierre Melville.

Poster for the 1972 US release of Le Samourai, titled The Godson.

Alain Delon, as the stylish hitman Jef Costello.

Delon wearing the iconic trenchcoat and fedora combination that he sports throughout much of the film.

Alain Delon kisses his real-life wife, Nathalie Delon, on the set of Le Samourai, 1967. Director Jean-Pierre Melville is behind them, wearing sunglasses.

Director Jean-Pierre Melville and actor Alain Delon on the set of Un Flic. Here you can see the distinctive way that Melville wears his wristwatch.

Le Samourai is one of Alain Delon’s most iconic roles. As the trench coat wearing hitman Jef Costello, Delon delivered a cool, detached performance that is a classic of screen minimalism. Directed by Jean-Pierre Melville, Le Samourai is one of the masterpieces of the French New Wave of the 1960’s.

I first saw Le Samourai when it was re-released in the United States in March of 1997. The first U.S. release of Le Samourai was in 1972, 5 years after it was released in France. Capitalizing on the success of The Godfather, it was released in the U.S. as The Godson. Ironically enough, the 1997 re-release of Le Samourai occurred just weeks before the 25^th anniversary re-release of The Godfather.

I was at least aware of who Alain Delon was before I saw Le Samourai in 1997. I may have already seen Delon as the pilot in The Concorde Airport ’79. (I was oddly obsessed with the Airport movie series, probably because the spoof Airplane! has been one of my favorite movies since I was a little kid.) I knew that Alain Delon was a handsome French leading man. Then I saw Le Samourai, and Alain Delon became the coolest, most handsome guy I’d ever seen.

Le Samourai was heavily influenced by American film noir, and even though Le Samourai was filmed in color, Melville’s color palette is so limited that it’s almost a black and white film. The movie opens with a shot of a room, and Delon blends in so much with his surroundings that we barely even notice him lying on the bed. Jef’s room is all black and gray, and it looks like it could be the bleak setting of a Samuel Beckett play. I don’t know if Melville was influenced by Beckett or not, but Le Samourai exhibits a fatalistic minimalism that wouldn’t be out of place in Beckett’s work.

The first word of dialogue isn’t spoken until 10 minutes into the movie. Yet the film pulls you in, and the first 10 minutes are a great example of establishing character and mood without using dialogue. We don’t need any dialogue, we just watch Jef, and Delon’s eyes tell us everything we need to know about his character.

Alain Delon is fantastic at conveying so much emotion without words. In Le Samourai, La Piscine, and Plein Soleil, (Purple Noon) Delon draws the viewer in with minimum effort. Yes, Delon commands attention because he’s extremely good-looking, but he’s much more than just a pretty face. In Le Samourai Delon has pared everything down to the bare minimum. There are no extraneous movements or busyness in Jef’s actions or movements. It’s a remarkable performance.

To discuss the plot of Le Samourai would be superfluous, since it’s really all about the style of the film. The supporting performances are excellent, including Delon’s then-wife Nathalie Delon, making her film debut. Nathalie Delon looks gorgeous—there’s something about those mid-60’s European women with their long, straight hair that gets me every time. Nathalie’s character wears a brown leather coat to the police station at 4AM, looking impossibly sexy.

Another newcomer to film was Cathy Rosier, a fashion model who plays the pianist in the nightclub. Rosier does an excellent job, as she needs to be interesting enough to draw the attention of the solitary Jef.

Francois Perier plays the police superintendent, and he’s fantastic. He brings a bustling energy to the role that contrasts sharply with Delon’s minimalism. The lengths that the superintendent goes to try and track down Costello are ridiculous.

The Criterion Collection Blu-Ray of Le Samourai is a gorgeous presentation of the film, and there are a generous selection of extras. There’s an interesting 1970 interview with Melville in which he says: “I’d like viewers to come away from my films unsure whether they’ve understood them. I want to leave them wondering.” That’s an interesting statement for a director to make—elsewhere, Melville talks of the filmmaker’s obligation to make popular art. But maybe part of what Melville meant is that he wants people to discuss his movies after they’ve seen them—he wants to give them something to think about on the way home.

Melville was obsessed with hats, and one of his assistant directors tells us that he and Delon spent an hour going over the exact gestures with which Jef would put on his fedora and run his hand over the brim. They practiced until it became not merely an actor repeating a gesture, but the inevitable performance of a ritual for Jef.

As I was watching Le Samourai, I noticed that Delon wears his wristwatch on his right wrist, with the watch face on the inside of his arm, rather than the outside, as most people do. I notice things like this because I’m left-handed, and I wear my watch on my right wrist, as most left-handed people tend to do. I was filled with excitement for a brief moment—is Alain Delon left-handed, just like me? A quick Google search confirmed that he’s not. Delon signs autographs with his right hand, and most of the time wears his watch on his left wrist, like most right-handers do. But the extras on the Blu-Ray showed me that Jean-Pierre Melville wore his wristwatch on his right wrist, with the watch face on the inside of his arm. For a director as attuned to detail as Melville was, he no doubt instructed Delon to wear his watch that way. I’m not sure if Melville was left-handed or right-handed, though.

Le Samourai was the first movie Delon made with Melville, and they made two more movies together: 1970’s Le Cercle Rouge, and 1972’s Un Flic. One of the documentaries included was a 2011 short film titled Melville Delon: Of Honor and Of Night, directed by Olivier Bohler. One of Melville’s nephews tells the story that Delon and Melville had a falling out after the filming of Un Flic. When Delon heard that Melville had suffered a heart attack, he wanted to fly back to Paris, but the weather was too poor. Instead, he had his chauffeur drive him back to Paris. When Melville’s nephew told Delon that Melville was dead, Delon collapsed in tears. Delon helped Melville’s widow and family after Melville’s death, indicating the strong bond that the two men shared.

Le Samourai is a cinematic masterpiece, and it’s one of the key movies in the screen career of the legendary Alain Delon.