Fred Zinneman, the director, has put out some pretty low brow stuff, like "High Noon," but it's all done with craftsmanship. This one is just about the opposite of "High Noon," a thriller in which not a moment is wasted. Everything that happens is relevant to the plot and concise. Not only is the movie built around direct cuts from one scene to another distant one, the cuts are made on actions, sometimes actions that are only half completed. You have to keep your eyes open. If you blink at the wrong time, for instance, you're liable to miss the way Edward Fox gets hold of Per Lindquist's Danish passport.
It's a battle of wits between the hired, cold-blooded assassin (Fox) who is out to kill Charles DeGaulle, and the team of French detectives and generals who are out to stop him. Fox eludes them with invention and foresight but detective in charge (Lonsdale) doggedly track him down. I don't suppose it's giving much away to reveal that Fox does not succeed in assassinating DeGaulle, since all interested parties must already know that DeGaulle died of a heart attack. (The headlines of the Philadelphia Examiner were unforgettable -- "DeGaulle Keels Over," later amended to "DeGaulle Drops Dead.") The movie spells out the details by which Fox acquires his different identities and how and why he changes them. If you don't know how to get a false passport, watch this and find out. There are a lot of characters in this movie and a lot of locations but not once are we confused about what's happening or why. It's a splendid script. The acting is professional all around. David Hardwicke is tucked away in a small part. Michael Lonsdale as the detective has the proper proletarian face and modest demeanor. Fox has the necessary Saville Row certainty. And what a life he leads! Driving around the Riviera and the Maritime Alps in his sporty Alfa Romeo convertible, lodging in the finest hotels, boffing the elegant but foolish Delphine Seyrig, earning a cool half million for one job -- and this in the days when the dollar was worth something, murdering anyone who gets in his way. The kind of life any normal person would give an arm and a leg to lead.
And it all goes down as smoothly as a draught of Pepto Bismol. There is only one brief exchange of gunfire at the end. There are no fist fights or assaults. Fox kills a couple of people in the course of his journey but they're all over quickly, sometimes off screen or in shadows. Nobody loses his or her temper. No one shouts at anyone else. The humor, and there ARE a few amusing moments, is subdued.
If I were teaching a class in film appreciation I would show Zinneman's version back to back with the more recent "The Jackal" with Richard Gere and Bruce Willis. The final exam would consist of one question. "Which did you prefer?" Then I would flunk everybody who chose the later version.
Bruce Willis changes his identity in a whimsical way. In every scene he seems to wear a different wig or something. Fox assumes only three false identities, an English tourist, a Danish schoolteacher, and a French veteran. And we understand precisely why he MUST change identities. Fox's murder weapon is a cleverly constructed .22 caliber rifle, a stark miniature. Willis's murder weapon is a gigantic cannon that looks capable of taking out a tank or maybe a battleship. Everything in the later film is both overblown and sloppy, a Gongoristic mess. Compared to the Willis/Gere film, Zinneman's "High Noon" was an exercise in sophistication. My God, what's happening to us?
It's a battle of wits between the hired, cold-blooded assassin (Fox) who is out to kill Charles DeGaulle, and the team of French detectives and generals who are out to stop him. Fox eludes them with invention and foresight but detective in charge (Lonsdale) doggedly track him down. I don't suppose it's giving much away to reveal that Fox does not succeed in assassinating DeGaulle, since all interested parties must already know that DeGaulle died of a heart attack. (The headlines of the Philadelphia Examiner were unforgettable -- "DeGaulle Keels Over," later amended to "DeGaulle Drops Dead.") The movie spells out the details by which Fox acquires his different identities and how and why he changes them. If you don't know how to get a false passport, watch this and find out. There are a lot of characters in this movie and a lot of locations but not once are we confused about what's happening or why. It's a splendid script. The acting is professional all around. David Hardwicke is tucked away in a small part. Michael Lonsdale as the detective has the proper proletarian face and modest demeanor. Fox has the necessary Saville Row certainty. And what a life he leads! Driving around the Riviera and the Maritime Alps in his sporty Alfa Romeo convertible, lodging in the finest hotels, boffing the elegant but foolish Delphine Seyrig, earning a cool half million for one job -- and this in the days when the dollar was worth something, murdering anyone who gets in his way. The kind of life any normal person would give an arm and a leg to lead.
And it all goes down as smoothly as a draught of Pepto Bismol. There is only one brief exchange of gunfire at the end. There are no fist fights or assaults. Fox kills a couple of people in the course of his journey but they're all over quickly, sometimes off screen or in shadows. Nobody loses his or her temper. No one shouts at anyone else. The humor, and there ARE a few amusing moments, is subdued.
If I were teaching a class in film appreciation I would show Zinneman's version back to back with the more recent "The Jackal" with Richard Gere and Bruce Willis. The final exam would consist of one question. "Which did you prefer?" Then I would flunk everybody who chose the later version.
Bruce Willis changes his identity in a whimsical way. In every scene he seems to wear a different wig or something. Fox assumes only three false identities, an English tourist, a Danish schoolteacher, and a French veteran. And we understand precisely why he MUST change identities. Fox's murder weapon is a cleverly constructed .22 caliber rifle, a stark miniature. Willis's murder weapon is a gigantic cannon that looks capable of taking out a tank or maybe a battleship. Everything in the later film is both overblown and sloppy, a Gongoristic mess. Compared to the Willis/Gere film, Zinneman's "High Noon" was an exercise in sophistication. My God, what's happening to us?