If you have listened to Madonna’s song ‘Beautiful Killer’ or seen Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999), Vengeance (2009), Drive (2011) and The Killer (2023), you have come across works inspired by the highly regarded Le Samouraï (1967).
Written and directed by Jean-Pierre Melville, Le Samouraï is a French neo-noir film which was recently restored in 4K by Pathé and the Criterion Collection at L’Immagine Ritrovata from the 35 mm original camera negative. I had the rare opportunity to access a copy of the film prior to its first screening in Sydney at the 2024 Cinema Reborn Festival, and went in as blindly as I could. Le Samouraï exceeded all my expectations — Melville created a masterpiece, a film in which every frame and choice is carefully executed, all the while being avant-garde in its storytelling.
The film begins with the quotation, “There is no greater solitude than that of the samurai, unless it is that of the tiger in the jungle… perhaps….” Allegedly devised by Melville, this bold statement establishes our protagonist’s adherence to the Bushido code, not as a samurai, but as a hitman.
Jef Costello, played by Alain Delon, is hired to kill the owner of Martey’s restaurant and meticulously organises his two-part alibi, careful to account for every hour of the night. First, he is with his ‘fiancee’ Jane LaGrange (Nathalie Delon) before leaving for a poker night. It all goes downhill when pianist Valérie (Cathy Rosier) and the entire restaurant see him entering and leaving suspiciously. When Valérie finds her employer dead, a police investigation is quickly instigated by the Superintendent (François Périer) who is intent on connecting Jef to the murder.
As the crime occurs in the film’s opening sequence, the audience is forced to be a bystander because we know who the killer is and follow him trying to thwart police suspicions, which are ironically, correct. Instead of the suspense lying in who committed the crime, we are encouraged to piece together why this crime occurred and the extent to which other players are involved, including Valérie.
All-in-all, the action in Le Samouraï is very methodical. We initially see Jef laying on his bed, and smoking in his dark bedroom. He puts out his cigarette, puts on his signature trench coat and fedora, and exits his humble abode into the streets of Paris. Jef then steals a car, something he has clearly done countless times before, given his precision and a keyring carrying tens of keys. After that, he drives to a garage, changes the car’s plate, and is given a licence and a gun. This is all done without Jef uttering a single word, reliant upon gesturing and facial expression, a testament to the collaboration between Melville and Delon to communicate so much within the span of minutes.
Melville expertly sustains the tension when everyone is taken to the police station for questioning as Jef becomes beholden to Valérie who will choose whether or not to say that she recognises him. While she does not reveal the truth, an unexpected challenge to Jef arises in the form of an unpredictable witness.
When the two finally have a one-on-one confrontation, their unspoken tension translates into a deadlock, where Jef asks why she didn’t admit to recognising him. Valérie immediately follows Jef’s question with a question of her own, “Why did you kill Martey?” to which he simply states, “I was told I’d be paid.” In this short exchange, we know where both characters’ loyalties lie, with Jef’s last sentence providing context to his decision-making throughout the film.
It is of importance to note that while Delon is considered one of the greatest French actors, when praising his performances and film legacy, one must do so while acknowledging the problematic allegations and quotes attributed to him. This role is one of Delon’s best, with his brooding mannerisms no doubt having influenced many contemporary actors. He is given the task to act with minimal dialogue, instead his expressive blue eyes communicate more than just glances, making us realise that he is reflecting before acting on those thoughts.
Melville cleverly scatters subtle humour to counteract the tense atmosphere of a criminal investigation. The majority of the comedy is delivered by the superintendent as he tries to make progress on the case, mocking his suspects to their faces and behind their backs: “We’re not investigating your private life…it’s not an offence” and “So much for people’s private lives! I’m investigating a homicide!” There was also a commendable brazenness on Melville’s part when including a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it joke about strikes — French humour at its finest!
Melville also manages to deliver a cold but enthralling story by virtue of making a colour film in black-and-white where a few details are included to remind the audience that there is colour within the frame. This greyish, black-and-white colour palette is only enhanced by the seamless work of cinematographer Henri Decaë, slick production design by François de Lamothe and thrumming, jazz-infused score by François de Roubaix. Unsurprisingly, cigarettes are key prop, so much so that I attempted to start a cigarette count, but this proved futile as Le Samouraï is not a film where you can afford to be distracted.
Without spoiling too much, Jef becomes a nuisance for his employers and later realises the police are following him. It is here we see a mirroring of the opening sequence: he goes to the garage after stealing a car, and returns to the scene of the crime where everything spirals out of control.
While watching the film, I often wondered, had Jef not always worn his signature trenchcoat and fedora on-the-job, he could have avoided police suspicion. However, I reevaluated this in the context of the opening quote, and it would have most likely gone against his personal code. Jef is, put simply, a samurai who cannot and would not take off his uniform.
When reading other interpretations of the ending, I was intrigued by how many truths could be possible at the same time, even if the filmmakers did not think of them at the time of production. I interpreted the finale as Jef finally acting on his own terms, despite appearing to take orders from his superiors, and proves capable enough to lure the police back to the scene of the crime.
At the beginning of the film he says, “I never lose. Not really.” While Melville, Delon and the audience all share the ability to determine whether that was the case or not, there is only one person that will truly ever know: Jef himself.
Le Samouraï (1967) in its 4K restoration was first screened at the 2024 Cinema Reborn Festival and will also be showing at the Randwick Ritz from Thursday 27 June to Wednesday 3 July.
