How does one regain credentials as a director after having creating the bona fide disaster piece, that was the typically tedious Hollywood remake, "Assault On Precinct 13"? For a start you return to your roots and you return to what you know, which is precisely what director Jean-Francois Richet has done as he presents the first installment of a two part tale detailing the life of Jacque Mesrine, France's most notorious criminal. The man who was once known as France's "Public Enemy No1" provides an interesting and engaging story, as anyone of such notoriety would, as his life charts an almost unpredictable path across countries and continents but as with all literative adaptations, does it translate onto the big screen?
Well, aside from the fact that no "big screen" has shown this film, and that all viewings have been in smaller independent picture houses reserved for the cine-literate, the tongue-in- cheek answer is no. However, the answer to the serious issue is 'a bit of both'. The irony is the films major interest, that being the protagonists own story, is both its strongest feature, but one of the main contributing factors into the films fall into the category of "entertaining" as opposed to "gripping". What intrigues is that this is the real life tale of a dangerous man, that we get a glimmer into the actual horrors of these crime stories, that everything is truthful, that nothing has been unnecessarily overblown purely for the purposes of revenue. Jacques Mesrine, as frighteningly portrayed by the excellent Vincent Cassel, is a man whose life is a nonstop roller-coaster of carnage and violence, he is a man who is utterly incapable of escaping the life he leads and what's more is that he has no notions of leaving it, not even when the wife of his two children pleads with him to remain on the straight and narrow. Cassel is a commanding on screen presence, managing to evoke a charm and sense of warmth from the audience as we cheer him on in certain circumstances, then being able to switch to a cold, calculating, carefree individual while maintaining the integrity of the character. Unfortunately, while Cassel's acting brings Mesrine to life on celluloid, the story which makes up "Part I" is confined to the existence he experienced and herein lies an issue. Through no fault of the criminal in question, Richet finds himself walking into an unexpected problem that is we, as an audience, have already seen everything. We have seen a man physical abuse the one person who loves him as something more than a hired gun in Goodfellas. We have seen a character return from the army to be corrupted by the lures of the "mob" lifestyle in The Godfather. We have seen fanciful shoot out sequences in Heat. We have seen hostage taking go wrong in Dog Day Afternoon, unfortunately for Mesrine his life is nothing new to those that have already been initiated into the film world, and while retelling these specific events from his own personal standpoint is not a cardinal sin the unoriginality with which it is filmed is.
Having viewed the initial five minute opening segment of "L'instinct de mort" you can be forgiven for expecting something more slick, stylish and, frankly, French than what is presented. Those opening moments hook the viewer instantly as, what we assume to be, Mesrine and a female accomplice cautiously and carefully try and escape from the police in what is an almost Rififi-esquire moment of cinema. No words are spoken, yet a cool bass line pulses in the background as the screen is broken down into boxes which show the two individuals attempting their escape from three different angles, each running a couple of seconds out of sync with the other. It is an engrossing opening, which is sadly never followed upon throughout the following duration of the film. Why this is not done is puzzling, because it is quite clearly the most original and stylish aspect of the film. Yes there are dens, mansions and parties that provide for shady, smokey, under lighted set pieces that provide atmosphere, and at the very least a setting, but there is nothing that quite grabs you again. The compositions and angles from a directorial standpoint renege any sense of individualism becoming, in the process, much more generic as the film progresses. Jean- Francois Richet must stand accused of allowing "L'instinct de mort" to disintegrate from crisp and unique to widescreen and Hollywood.
It's difficult to completely write the film off as it manages to tell an interesting story of a man that few in this country will have heard anything about, in a way that is familiar to the westernised audiences yet carrying a hallmark of being slightly different, if not entirely left field. The advent of the gangster film en mass, however, has somewhat deadened the impact this film could otherwise have possessed as they have all in their own ways seemingly taken any originality out of, what is otherwise, a nigh on implausible unbelievable story, only held together by the simple fact that it all occurred. Richet has undertaken a brave and bold project which has been met with generally positive reviews, and rightly so, it is just a desire of the viewer to experience more than a director simply opening a book and retelling the words from within. While "L'instinct de mort" is undoubtedly an enjoyable experience, the slight feeling of disappointment would have been lessened had the director perhaps shown more faith in his film making, been a bit more brave, a bit more stylish, a bit more brutal and shown the "killer instinct" needed to make a classic.
Well, aside from the fact that no "big screen" has shown this film, and that all viewings have been in smaller independent picture houses reserved for the cine-literate, the tongue-in- cheek answer is no. However, the answer to the serious issue is 'a bit of both'. The irony is the films major interest, that being the protagonists own story, is both its strongest feature, but one of the main contributing factors into the films fall into the category of "entertaining" as opposed to "gripping". What intrigues is that this is the real life tale of a dangerous man, that we get a glimmer into the actual horrors of these crime stories, that everything is truthful, that nothing has been unnecessarily overblown purely for the purposes of revenue. Jacques Mesrine, as frighteningly portrayed by the excellent Vincent Cassel, is a man whose life is a nonstop roller-coaster of carnage and violence, he is a man who is utterly incapable of escaping the life he leads and what's more is that he has no notions of leaving it, not even when the wife of his two children pleads with him to remain on the straight and narrow. Cassel is a commanding on screen presence, managing to evoke a charm and sense of warmth from the audience as we cheer him on in certain circumstances, then being able to switch to a cold, calculating, carefree individual while maintaining the integrity of the character. Unfortunately, while Cassel's acting brings Mesrine to life on celluloid, the story which makes up "Part I" is confined to the existence he experienced and herein lies an issue. Through no fault of the criminal in question, Richet finds himself walking into an unexpected problem that is we, as an audience, have already seen everything. We have seen a man physical abuse the one person who loves him as something more than a hired gun in Goodfellas. We have seen a character return from the army to be corrupted by the lures of the "mob" lifestyle in The Godfather. We have seen fanciful shoot out sequences in Heat. We have seen hostage taking go wrong in Dog Day Afternoon, unfortunately for Mesrine his life is nothing new to those that have already been initiated into the film world, and while retelling these specific events from his own personal standpoint is not a cardinal sin the unoriginality with which it is filmed is.
Having viewed the initial five minute opening segment of "L'instinct de mort" you can be forgiven for expecting something more slick, stylish and, frankly, French than what is presented. Those opening moments hook the viewer instantly as, what we assume to be, Mesrine and a female accomplice cautiously and carefully try and escape from the police in what is an almost Rififi-esquire moment of cinema. No words are spoken, yet a cool bass line pulses in the background as the screen is broken down into boxes which show the two individuals attempting their escape from three different angles, each running a couple of seconds out of sync with the other. It is an engrossing opening, which is sadly never followed upon throughout the following duration of the film. Why this is not done is puzzling, because it is quite clearly the most original and stylish aspect of the film. Yes there are dens, mansions and parties that provide for shady, smokey, under lighted set pieces that provide atmosphere, and at the very least a setting, but there is nothing that quite grabs you again. The compositions and angles from a directorial standpoint renege any sense of individualism becoming, in the process, much more generic as the film progresses. Jean- Francois Richet must stand accused of allowing "L'instinct de mort" to disintegrate from crisp and unique to widescreen and Hollywood.
It's difficult to completely write the film off as it manages to tell an interesting story of a man that few in this country will have heard anything about, in a way that is familiar to the westernised audiences yet carrying a hallmark of being slightly different, if not entirely left field. The advent of the gangster film en mass, however, has somewhat deadened the impact this film could otherwise have possessed as they have all in their own ways seemingly taken any originality out of, what is otherwise, a nigh on implausible unbelievable story, only held together by the simple fact that it all occurred. Richet has undertaken a brave and bold project which has been met with generally positive reviews, and rightly so, it is just a desire of the viewer to experience more than a director simply opening a book and retelling the words from within. While "L'instinct de mort" is undoubtedly an enjoyable experience, the slight feeling of disappointment would have been lessened had the director perhaps shown more faith in his film making, been a bit more brave, a bit more stylish, a bit more brutal and shown the "killer instinct" needed to make a classic.