I Love French Movies

The French, more than any other culture, seem to have a natural flair for complicating things. From their fabled bureaucracies to the myriad ways of properly tying a scarf, one would almost suspect that they enjoy the enigmatic air fostered by such a reputation.

This is clear when watching some French films. There are exceptions, of course. Straightforward comedies like The Valet and Tatie Danielle are readily accessible to almost anyone that appreciates a good laugh, and A Very Long Engagement fits nicely into the drama category.

Then you have a slew of films that blur the lines between so many genres that you’re forced to just watch the movie without any expectations at all (this is not necessarily a bad habit, by the way). One such film is A Comedy of Power (L’lvresse du Pouvior). Directed by Claude Chabrol and starring Isabelle Huppert as judge Jeanne Charmant-Killman and François Berléand as corporate director Michel Humeau, this movie is often listed as a comedy but is in fact more of a drama than anything else. That said, there is action, intrigue, suspense, and, however sedate, a few comedic moments throughout the film. Oh, and it’s loosely based on a true story. At least none of the characters burst into song during the second act (I’m looking at you, 8 Women).

Inspired by the Elf Aquitaine scandal that exposed the corruption in France’s state owned oil company, Power begins with Humeau on his way out the door, literally and figuratively. He’s arrested as he leaves his office in the sleek, modern business district of Paris and taken straight to jail in the ancient, ivied and cobble-stoned heart of the city. “This,” Chabrol seems to want us to know, “This is where the true power resides.” He soon meets with judge Charmant-Killman (nicknamed “The Piranha”) and it is there that it begins to dawn on him that his fate lies squarely in her petite hands. Huppert and Berléand are both talented actors, and we can almost feel the transfer of power as Huppert’s eyes twinkle and Berléand’s Humeau begins to deflate.

Charmant-Killman soon becomes a little intoxicated on the sense of power she gets by investigating the case, and smugly announces to anyone who’ll listen that she’s going to “bring them all down.” Her mild-mannered husband Philippe (Robin Renucci, not given a lot to do except act morose) continues to withdraw from his wife and the rest of the world.

A clumsy attempt is made on the judge’s life, so she brings in bodyguards. This excites her further and she becomes a woman consumed, never noticing her husband’s increasing depression as she devotes all of her waking moments to the case. Meanwhile the men with the real power remain untouchable, pulling the strings behind the scenes. Humeau realizes that he was just a puppet all along, and Charmant-Killman toils away, doing her best to overcome the obstacles placed in her path and show everyone that she wields the real power.