Le Samourai (The Criterion Collection)

The wheel of life circles towards a predictable conclusion, as does Jean-Pierre Melville's cinematic masterpiece Le Samouraï. The film emits a strongly inevitable atmosphere, yet the silence, dualistic, and enigmatic narrative leaves the audience ambiguously flabbergasted far after its initial screening. The serenity that surrounds the protagonist cerebrally submerges the audience into a world where opposites coincide in an illusionary moment. It is in this moment where the thoughts conceptualize into a coherent piece of alternative reality and offer support to the power of suggestion. The blending of the fictitiously thoughtful imagination and the reality on the screen leaves the audience with a strong sense of dualism. Like Yin and Yang, the notion is further developed through the protagonist Jef Costello (Alain Delon) who peacefully approaches his violent profession, as a hit man. He is the embodiment of mind and body converging towards a moment of perfection, as he seeks his own path, a path similar to the samurai - the way of Bushido. The contrasts within Jef and his environment sharply emerge in the lengthy initial scene where he rests on a bed while staring into the ceiling. Not much is in motion besides him lighting a cigarette, a canary singing in a cage, and cigarette smoke lingering in midair while the sounds of vehicles passing outside informs the audience about the continuance of existence outside. A sparsely furnished and decorated room with aged and peeling wallpaper demonstrates his humbleness, as he pays no attention to vanity or self-importance. Thoughtfully, perhaps, most likely, Jef might be seeking the greater meaning in life. The opening scene symbolically suggests that while people outside are busy scurrying back and forth in their cars to uphold a way of life governed by others' need of monetary means. Unlike the majority of the world, Jef seeks contemplative solitude, as a small tidbit of Bushido emerges on the screen stating, "There is not greater solitude than that of the samurai, unless it is that of the tiger in the jungle...perhaps..." Whenever Jef leaves his simple apartment, he dresses himself in an exact and detailed manner, but not for narcissistic purpose. Instead, it seems as if he is preparing for battle, the beige trench coat and gray hat hint towards the idea of a samurai's armor and helmet. Every minor facet seems to be carefully calculated, as he is about to perform his profession to perfection. Words are meaningless. It is only the act of his task that matters while he carry's out his masters order with a deep sense of loyalty and respect. Despite the bloody purpose of his task, he approaches it with a great sense of benevolence and honesty to those who help him. He is to the point without intention of squandering time, yet he is adaptable to the changes around. Precision and flawlessness are also essential to the task of killing a nightclub owner, as he respects his target. To visually display his respect to the person he is about to kill he dresses in white gloves while also informing the marked man that he is about to die. Analogously Jef approaches his task to that of a samurai who would slash his sword through flesh without leaving any cutting mark until the limb slowly drift apart due to gravity. Methodically, Melville transcends the American gangster cinema into an extraordinary combination of French New Wave and traditional Bushido that leaves the audience a timeless piece of cinematic brilliance. The story continues to unfold in, as mentioned before, a predictable manner when it turns into a cat and mouse game between Jef and the law enforcement. The police arrest Jef, but must release him due to lack of evidence and as one of the witnesses falsely acquits him for unknown reasons. Police inspector (Francois Perier), who strongly suspects Jef despite his watertight alibi, leads the investigation and he continues to pursue Jef. Meanwhile, Jef's criminal employer expects that he ratted them out in order to be released. This too will have consequences, as they try to have him killed before the police know too much. However, those who know Jef are aware that it is against his Bushido to squeal on superiors due to his respect and loyalty. Throughout the film the audience will be informed of the date and time, which suggests the importance of time. The notion of seizing the day, and that time alive is overwhelming. It also offers the audience to ponder life's final solution, which often ends with an abrupt stop of the heart to experience another beat. The fear of death often devastates people's ability to fully live while samurai often contemplate the moment of death, as the moment of perfection. It is a moment where two opposites unite, as the circle of life has gone full circle from no life to life and back to no life. The use of Bushido accentuates this notion, as it draws its philosophical concepts from Buddhism, Zen, Confucianism, and Shintoism. Buddhism provides the samurai of the belief of reincarnation, which strengthens their courage and lowers the guard from fear of death while life allows them to contemplate the wheel of life. In the end, Melville presents the importance of the here and now through his anti-heroic masterpiece Le Samouraï focusing on the moment and the actions that set life in motion. Le Samouraï offers a fascinating cinematic experience on the surface, but it is when the audience begins to reflect over the film and its depiction where Melville's cinematic gift reveals itself. The film reads like a painting, a different interpretation for each viewer. Over time the accumulation of the viewer's experiences will help decipher the film and allow the viewer to uncover their own valuable lessons. Thus, time will allow for the experience to grow with contemplation, and in time Le Samouraï will change with the accumulation of experiences to a condensed purification of cinematic virtuosity.

After watching this mesmerizing film three or four times and remaining confused, I bought the Criterion Collection DVD of the movie. In the 39-page booklet included in the DVD package, writer and director Melville states unequivocally that he wrote Delon's character, Jef Costello, as a schizophrenic. What genius! Melville says he did a lot of research on the subject of schizophrenia before he even started writing. When I read that, all of the missing pieces fell into place and the movie made perfect sense. I have since watched "Le Samourai" five more times and keep longing to see it again. It is hypnotic, and perfect. The knowledge that Costello is a schizophrenic makes him infinitely sympathetic and opens up the film in a completely new and fresh way. Delon's performance is even more unbelievable in this context. I urge everyone who thinks Delon is "sleepwalking" through the movie to watch it again, now with the knowledge that the poor guy is insane. In fact, the police inspector gave us a clue when he said: "He's not normal." I always felt Jef fell in love with the pianist, and Melville confirms this in his printed interview. Those last few moments before Costello is shot are profoundly sad. I feel that Jef, in a moment of clarity, is expressing in his gaze the sadness of his life and, especially, of not being able to express his love for the soulful pianist who saved him from the police. (As a sidebar, I think it is obvious that the two have made love in the scene in her apartment, where he is dressed to leave and she is still naked under her silk robe. He affectionately rumples her hair while they are talking.) Delon's acting in this film, and especially in this last scene, depends so much on his eyes, and this scene especially is profoundly sad. I don't think there has ever been a better actor than Delon and I wish he would make more movies and TV series. He is still, in this time -- August 2011, the most handsome man on the planet (check out the "Fabio Montale" series filmed in 2001 and "Day and Night"). Also check out the love scene he has with a teenage unwed mother in "The Widow Couderc" (from a Simenon novel). It is the sexiest thing I have EVER seen. And it is not graphic. It's a great movie. (Actually, my favorite Delon movie.) I wish someone would publish one of the biographies of Delon in English. Actually, I wish someone would publish all of them in English. My bad for not knowing French. BTW, with the Criterion Collection of "Le Samourai", there is a subtitled TV interview with Delon shortly before the film was released. Delon is so sweet and cute, and looks a few times as if he is trying not to crack up. If you adore Delon, you have to have this adorable interview. FYI, in the movie "Le Choc", Delon briefly appears full-frontal in a short shower scene. The movie is a "romp" and delicious. I rented it by choosing from a Catherine Deneuve DVD, because it wasn't available under his movies. But it is Delon who is delicious. Also, notice how affectionate he is with animals in his movies. He gently kisses his horse in "The Leopard", for example, after giving it water, and there always seems to be a kitten/cat somewhere around (check out the end of "Scorpio"). An animal lover, too. What a man.

Don't listen to the negative reviews. Some say it's too slow or doesn't have enough dialogue but I disagree with both of those claims. It does have a more hypnotic quality than most crime movies but it's also fairly straightforward and lucid, even when we as an audience don't get all the information. The style and tone of this film seems to be an inspiration and precursor to many later movies like Drive, Layer Cake, pretty much every hitman movie ever, and apparently John Woo's The Killer and Johnnie To's Vengeance, although I've only seen The Killer and I don't remember much about it. I'll have to see it again. I have also read that Jean-Pierre Melville is Quentin Tarantino's favorite director, so make of that what you will. The point is, this movie has many fans in high places, although your mileage may vary of course. I will concede that the story is a little frustrating because certain aspects are never fully explained but the movie just has so much damn style and coolness that it doesn't really matter. Melville himself subscribed to the notion that the story doesn't matter as much as the way the story's told. That's his opinion of cinema. I don't completely agree with that. I think the story is extremely important but if it isn't told or executed in an interesting way then it's not as effective. So I feel both elements matter equally, and I think this movie strikes a nice balance of the two. The music is also fantastic. I love the moody, ominous score and the upbeat jazz music played live in the club. So if you love movies with loads of style, beautiful cinematography and set design, great music, ridiculously attractive actors and actresses playing mysterious and interesting characters with impeccable style than you will most likely enjoy this.

magnificent

Great transfer & extras. Film is somewhat disappointing although it's classic. Love the French films from this era but had not seen this. As usual, Criterion has done an excellent job with producing the package. That said, I found that this is a largely forgettable film. It won't be in my top 100 French classics.

In elegant yet dreary 1960s Paris, Jef Costello (portrayed by Alain Delon) lives a life of solitude as a ronin and car thief who lives alone in a shabby apartment with a pet wren. He is unflinching in his killings as well as taciturn, calm, handsome, slick and an expert at hand-to-hand combat and firearms. As he carries out hits for organized crime, he may have made some mistakes, including letting the comely jazz performer Valérie (Cathy Rosier) who may be a police witness live. She does not identify him but it appears the police superintendant (François Périer) is slowly gathering evidence on Costello and the mobsters he worked as a freelance troubleshooter for may try to stab him in his back. Paranoia and angst run high as Costello's life as a cold-blooded hitman may be coming to an end in an overcast and gloomy Paris. The story of this film is simple but the themes, characters and imagery are anything but. Costello is a compelling protagonist as he does not kill for revenge, pleasure or even money as he lives in a run down tenement. It seems like his religious commitment to the samurai code and lifestyle is the only possible purpose that keeps him going. The story-line between him and Valerie is also a wonderful development; can he develop feelings for anyone, perhaps this kind-hearted woman he has at least reciprocated deeds with? The answer is brilliantly not revealed until the very end. Delon deserves acclaim for his performance. His character does not have many lines but his body language and occasional gestures give clues and insights to his personality and intentions. Rosier and Périer provide great supporting performances as well. I also love the little touches in the film that Melville weaves into "Le Samourai" such as a character's minor decision involving a ticket that portends his fate. This film's sights are almost as captivating as the story as it unfolds. The city of Paris is shown in glory and in caliginosity, and it becomes a fascinating "co-star" throughout the entirety of the film. With expert cinemotography featuring sepia and dark gris colors as well as rainy weather, this film is really a hybrid of black and white film noir and colorful neo-noir. Jean Pierre Melville uses excellent direction, pacing and shots to piece together a raveling tale of modernism, isolation and possible redemption from amorality. Nathalie Delon (Alain Delon's then-wife) does well in the role of a woman Costello often pays to be an alibi, which leads to a few interesting scenes in a sub-plot of investigator Périer attempting to solicit information from her. François De Roubaix also deserves much credit for his brilliant music which provides a haunting eerie tune at times, excitement at others and even French folk music which adds an even more powerful ambiance for viewers of this film. I recommend the Le Samourai soundtrack . This is one of the most fascinating films I have ever seen and a masterpiece of noir cinema.

This movie actually is one of those movies that inspired Tarantino. It’s such a bad ass film and I do recommend it.

I saw Le Samourai years ago and it has haunted me ever since. There is something singularly perfect about this quiet but intense film whose central character, Alain Delon's contract killer, is fascinating and unique: charismatic but dangerous, magnetic but inscrutable, older than his years but younger than he seems. To my mind, there isn't one flaw in the entire film, and the very look of it is absorbing. Finally, I have it on Criterion's blu-ray, and it's beautiful. (In a couple of places, there's grain, but you can tell this is deep in the source material.) This is not a fast-paced high-action film—although there is a plot and there is action. It has a meditative quality in that it provokes thought, especially about the character of the killer. The ending is, like the rest of it, excellent. I want to see more films by its director, Jean-Pierre Melville.