Movin' on up

You can't always stay levelled. Things around you morph & evolve, and so should you. Most people are confortable with moving sideways. Horizontally. For change's sake, they'll switch life partners and end up with different inconveniences, in an equal number, with the same effect : boredom. Same applies for their job : they'll change for almost no benefits, for a mundane detail like the location of their workplace, and they'll be good for a few more years.



It might sound like an easy parallel, but I like to think we're made to move vertically. We grow up. Our body accumulates the extra inches, normally moving on up, and not on the sides, except if your metabolism doesn't want to cooperate, but that's another story. When we fall, we don't fall on the ground as if we were going to sleep; we "end up at the bottom of the barrel". It's a way of saying that we are metaphorically moving down, under the level of the earth. Under the ground, where the dead sleep. When we succeed in a company, we "climb the corporate ladder". And when there's a serious financial crisis, we've often seen dudes who have their offices on the 29th floor jump off the window and go down a couple of storeys at full speed.

As some of you know, there are big changes in my life right now. I am questioning most aspects of my miserable existence. Is it worth it finishing a university program in which I am no longer interested ? What will become of my professional life ? Will I be stuck in small time offices all my life ? How old do you need to be to become a pathetic clubber ? Am I on the verge of qualifying ? Shouldn't I be raising kids in a suburbian home right now ? Am I lazy ? Where do I belong in a society which codes are like a foreign language to me ? Can we live off our passion if this "passion" is highly uncommon ? Can I be labeled as "different" ? And if so, does this difference help me in getting better chances in life, or is it one of the reasons I'm still living as if I was 21 ?

When I feel like shit, I know what to do. It is juvenile and not very mature, but oh so satisfying. Tonight, I'll get drunk and party with my good friends Troïka, Rev, Gin & Tonic, and with party people such as Tiga, Tommie Sunshine & Jordan Dare. Let's get degraded !

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Another discipline of mine, sometimes labeled as "escapism" by people who can't understand the fascination it provides, is VHS hunting. My best days are behind me, of course, since the medium is slowly but steadily disappearing - even Boîte Noire are selling their tapes for 1$ each - but even among my own collection I sometimes discover oddities. Back when I was "trading" on a regular basis, people would always throw in "freebies" or obscure titles, and I would just add them to my list, put them in a box and store it away. Since I have started "cleaning up" this mess, watching movies and then giving them to friends, or dubbing something else over the tapes, I have come across a highly surprising number of underrated curiosities. The most UFO-like being this week's THE TEACHER.



Directed by Howard Avedis, this 1974 oddity is labeled as a drama, but whatever it was in the first place, the french dubbing my copy suffered from has obliterated it. It starts out rather weirdly, with a seemingly disturbed teenager named Ralph (Anthony James) following a high school teacher around in his hearse. The teacher, Diane (Angel Tompkins), is a rather sexy californian-type blonde, who drives an electric blue Corvette Stingray and regularly gets her tan improved on her yatch. Ralph, of course, spies on her with his binoculars, something his little brother Lou is aware of. One afternoon, Lou takes his best friend Sean (Jay North) along to spy on the babe, but they're caught by Ralph and Lou, surprised and afraid, falls down several storeys to his death. Sean is troubled, but not enough to steer clear from Diane's flirting. Diane happens to be his teacher, his mother's best friend, and quite a babe. They start seeing each other, and even though Diane is 10 years older than him and divorced, the people around them don't see this relationship as very healthy. Meanwhile, Ralph is convinced that Sean pushed Lou to his death and jealous he's banging the object of his sexual obsession, so he keeps on stalking them.

The story is very twisted, but the way it is shown to us makes it almost "normal". Who wouldn't want Angel Tompkins as a girlfriend ? She drives a wonderful car, owns a boat, has a pool in her backyard and encourages underage drinking. And oh yeah, she's smoking hot ! The tagline, "Her best lessons were taught after class !", is rather funny. Funny because it's true; to Sean's father, she's corrupting him. To his mother though, she's just helping him becoming a man. If all of us kids had an "initiation" this good, we'd probably be very fussy about women right now.



The story unfolds smoothly, but constantly hesitates between teen comedy and drama. This oscillation doesn't help the atmosphere, and Anthony James popping up everywhere like bad news, without being noticed, is a rather ridiculous element. The camera isn't always at the right spot, as there are lots of wide angles at times when a closer frame would have been needed. The movie could have been just a sex comedy, without this dramatic touch, and nobody would have complained. It ends up feeling like a schizophrenic outing, where eroticism is always compromised by Ralph's unealthy voyeurism. Not a bad psychological effect, but I doubt it's voluntary. It would seem that this movie was released on DVD in 2002, and I sincerely hope that the image quality is better than what I've seen on VHS.

[As a bonus, I have come across a blog that seems to compile "bad teachers" cases in the US media, and the adress is worthy of sharing, as it's fascinating reading material. We've all had the hots for a teacher at one point of our lives, and these stories are encouraging news for those of you still hoping : http://outhouserag.typepad.com/outhouserag/bad_teacher/index.html ]

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My Chabrol of the week was an undisputed classic : QUE LA BETE MEURE. The beast must die, quite litterally. And before diving in details about the movie itself, it's worthy of noting that this 1969 masterpiece inspired Sean Penn's THE CROSSING GUARD. The movie itself is adapted from a novel by Nicholas Blake, and the way Chabrol quietly translates it into moving images is, once again, amazing.



Charles Thénier's son is killed in a hit-and-run by a sports car driver while crossing a calm street in Bretagne. The police aren't doing much to find the driver so Thénier (played by a cold and calculating Michel Duchaussoy), who only lives to find his son's killer and get revenge, begins his own inquiry. He accidentally finds some leads that will take him to Hélène Lanson (Caroline Cellier, charming), a bird brained actress that was inside the car when it killed the boy. He's getting closer. And when he is finally introduced to the man responsible for his grief, he ends up facing the vilest man he's ever met : Jean Yanne.



Yanne, who plays garage owner Paul Decourt, is litterally an animal; he lets his hot-headed temper lead the way. He doesn't respect anything, sleeps with pretty much every woman in sight, and beats on his son. He has absolutely no moral objectivity and the fact that he's successful prevents his entourage from confronting him about his bad manners. Yanne was already a seasoned actor in France when he landed this role, and would appear in yet another Chabrol classic, LE BOUCHER, the following year. He then developed his humor and appeared in many French comedies over the years, including alongside a blind Thierry Lhermitte in Gérard Mordillat's hilarious FUCKING FERNAND (1987). He died from a heart attack in 2003.



Duchaussoy was also part of LA FEMME INFIDELE, another flick that Chabrol directed the same year, and has collaborated with the director a total of eight times. He is the personification of vengeance, patient enough to wait for years before having the satisfaction of killing the beast responsible for his son's death. Caroline Cellier, one of French cinema's timeless beauties, succeeds in bringing dome depth to a character that most girls would have played as is : empty. When Duchaussoy says, in the voice-over : "Je commençais à m'attacher à cette petite écervelée..." we have no problem believing him.

This movie is a classic for many reasons. The narrative is far from traditional. The Bretagne landscapes are breath taking. The unflattering portrait of the French bourgeoisie, an obsessive theme for Chabrol, is right on target. I have yet to be disappointed by old Claude. Next week : we travel 10 years back in time and take a look at A DOUBLE TOUR (1959), Chabrol's third feature and his first psychological thriller.