Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Jean-Pierre Melville
Starring: Lino Ventura, Paul Meurisse, Jean-Pierre Cassel, Simone Signoret Claude
Mann, Paul Crauchet
The evocatively titled WWII resistance thriller
Army of Shadows is based on a wartime account by author
Joseph Kessel but benefits greatly from director
Jean-Pierre Melville's familiarity with its subject, having himself
been a member of the French resistance. It employs an episodic structure,
with some of its events taken from Kessel's book while others are fictional
accounts possibly inspired by Melville's own experiences. The opening text -
"Bad memories, welcome nonetheless, you are my youth" - suggests his time in
the resistance had a profound effect on Melville. How could it not?
Living through a time when loose lips could sink ships clearly influenced
the taciturn anti-heroes of Melville's crime films, men who know one slip-up
can spell doom and so avoid expressing emotion. The central figure of
Army of Shadows, resistance cell leader Philippe Gerbier (Lino Ventura) is an
archetypal Melville protagonist, quiet and considered, always planning his
next move or an emergency escape route. His rotund, bespectacled figure
gives him the appearance of one of those enigmatic latin football managers,
a Marcelo Bielsa type who is in his element when planning his tactics but
who sweats in contemplative silence during the match.
The movie follows Gerbier and the men and women under his command as they
plan and execute various operations, not all of which succeed. Danger is
ever-present, death never more than one mistake away. Everyone is respected,
but nobody can be trusted. The members of Gerbier's cell aren't the handsome
young romantic heroes of most tales of rebellion (save for a rather dashing
former pilot played by the chiselled Jean-Pierre Cassel). For
the most part they're middle-aged, paunchy and balding men who look more
like insurance salesmen than soldiers. The men are joined by a woman,
Mathilde (Simone Signoret), whose ability to hatch devious plans sees
her adopted as Gerbier's second-in-command.
The tense, nervy tone is set in an early scene that sees Gerbier, having
fled Gestapo questioning into the Parisian night, hide in a barber shop
where he requests a shave to maintain his cover. Not a word is exchanged
between Gerbier and the barber (a cameo from Serge Reggiani) as the
two men silently suss out one another's allegiances. As Gerbier departs, the
barber insists that he take his coat. For the resistance, small gestures
like this from men who want to play a part but lack the courage to bear
arms, are as vital to the effort as bullets and bombs.
The lack of romanticism sees Gerbier and his allies commit what would in
any other time be considered war crimes. There's a guelling scene in which a
young traitor must be killed (no doubt the inspiration for a similar
sequence in Ken Loach's The Wind That Shakes the Barley). The men agree the foul deed must be done, but they argue over the most
humane way to deal with the collaborator. Ultimately, his killing is brutal
regardless. Later on the men must reluctantly execute someone they've long
respected, not because they believe them to be treacherous, but because it's
simply a chance they can't risk.
The heroes of Army of Shadows have haunted faces, drained of
life like the ghosts we know they will soon inevitably become. The movie
itself is similarly drained of colour, with most of the action playing out
under overcast skies or in day for night sequences that paint the French sky
an ethereal shade of blue that would later be aped by Michael Mann in his
own Melvillean crime thrillers. Most scenes are unaccompanied by music. When
Gerbier finds himself in London he can't believe his eyes when he stumbles
into a speakeasy and sees male and female soldiers dancing and flirting to
swing music; it's as if he crossed the channel and entered another
world.
Due to its hero's Gaullist allegiances, Army of Shadows was
denounced by the communist sympathising French critics of 1969, and the poor
reviews meant it was barely seen outside France in many territories until
decades later. That seems quaint even by today's standards of polarising
politics, and few modern viewers will have an issue sympathising with the
Nazi-fighting heroes of Melville's film. The resistance here is comprised of
men and women with diverse political and philosophical beliefs, from young
communists to elderly land barons. For those who recently scoffed at the
notion of California and Texas allying in Alex Garland's
Civil War, Army of Shadows is an explicit reminder of how quickly
differences are set aside once jackboots begin to march down a city's
equivalent of the Champs-Élysées. Flags may come in different colours,
but they all cast grey shadows.
