20 reviews
I've seen a handful of Chabrol films and have so far been impressed with all of them. This film is my first experience of Chabrol's work in the eighties and while I'm not surprised at the fact that it gets lambasted by some; and it's not quite up to the great French director's previous high standards, personally I found this to be yet another great example of Chabrol's moody and brooding direction coupled with an interesting plot line and some good performances. The plot is not quite as deep as the ones seen in previous Chabrol films, but there's still plenty to chew on. The base of the story is Madame Curo and her son Louis. They live in a house that is wanted by two unscrupulous people in the village, but what they don't realise is that the son can read their mail, owing to the fact that he works at the post office - which gives them an advantage. The plot kicks off properly when Louis puts sugar into the tank of one of the men's cars, which soon results in a fatal car accident. After the disappearance of the other man's wife, a hard nosed police officer is brought in to investigate.
This film has one of the strangest titles I've ever heard of - 'Poulet au vinaigre', translating literally as "Chicken with the Vinegar". Quite what that means, I have no idea. The film has a fair few different plots going on, but the one that Chabrol seems most interested in is the one surrounding Louis, who finds himself in the middle of a "war" that is a bit too big for him and has to deal with his needy, sick mother at the same time. The murder investigation does provide the film with one of its main narratives; but since it doesn't kick off until we're halfway through, it's clear that it wasn't Chabrol's main concern. The acting is very good all round, with Lucas Belvaux making a convincing lead and getting good support from Chabrol's ex-wife and regular muse Stéphane Audran, Jean Poiret; who is excellent as the formidable police officer and my personal favourite, the exquisite Pauline Lafont as the love interest. Chabrol seems to have a thing for ending his films abruptly, and that is the case here as while everything is wrapped up by the end, it is done in a matter of about five minutes. Overall, it's not hard to imagine why this film isn't as well liked as some of Chabrol's other work - but for my money it's still a more than worthwhile thriller and comes recommended.
This film has one of the strangest titles I've ever heard of - 'Poulet au vinaigre', translating literally as "Chicken with the Vinegar". Quite what that means, I have no idea. The film has a fair few different plots going on, but the one that Chabrol seems most interested in is the one surrounding Louis, who finds himself in the middle of a "war" that is a bit too big for him and has to deal with his needy, sick mother at the same time. The murder investigation does provide the film with one of its main narratives; but since it doesn't kick off until we're halfway through, it's clear that it wasn't Chabrol's main concern. The acting is very good all round, with Lucas Belvaux making a convincing lead and getting good support from Chabrol's ex-wife and regular muse Stéphane Audran, Jean Poiret; who is excellent as the formidable police officer and my personal favourite, the exquisite Pauline Lafont as the love interest. Chabrol seems to have a thing for ending his films abruptly, and that is the case here as while everything is wrapped up by the end, it is done in a matter of about five minutes. Overall, it's not hard to imagine why this film isn't as well liked as some of Chabrol's other work - but for my money it's still a more than worthwhile thriller and comes recommended.
I have sometimes written in some reviews about some Claude Chabrol's flicks that I didn't find "Poulet Au Vinaigre" a memorable work. However I watched it recently and it's not that bad after all. Of course, it is several notches below such incomparable works as "La Femme Infidèle" (1969) or "Le Boucher" (1970) but it remains thoroughly watchable. Congratulations to the English film distributors who found an equivalent for the translation of the French title into English. It is perfectly well translated.
When in 1984, Chabrol starts the preparation of this "Poulet Au Vinaigre", he endured three fiasco in a row. The eighties didn't look a fruitful decade for him. "Le Cheval D'Orgeuil" (1980) got bogged down in a spate of clichés about Brittany and betrayed Pierre-Jakey Hélias' book. "Les Fantômes Du Chapelier" (1982), his first venture in Georges Simenon's universe was well received by French critics but hardly anybody went to see it. "Le Sang Des Autres" (1984) was a turgid and impersonal film in his spotty but riveting career.
So, what could Chabrol do to get things back on an even keel and to be reconciled with both critics and his public? Very simply, to cook them a typical Chabrolesque dish to the core with a minimum of money (the filmmaker wanted to show that it was possible to shoot good films with a modest budget in times of inflation) and time (a few weeks of shooting were sufficient for him to shoot his film). Thus, he kept turning over the staple ingredients which made his hallmark recognizable. He needed the apparently peaceful scenery of a small provincial town. Here, he chose Forges-Les Eaux in Normandy which isn't very far from I live in Rouen! The perfect backdrop for his story. Then, precisely a solidly structured story with several functions. First, to grab and entertain the audience and his fans with a certainly derivative but catchy storytelling. Louis Cuno is a timid postman who lives under her mother's thumb (Stéphane Audran). They refuse to sell their house to a trio of perfidious, perverse bourgeois, the doctor Morasseau, the butcher Filiol and the notary Lavoisier (Michel Bouquet) who want to set up a momentous and shady estate business. As he is a postman, Louis gets information about this trio of upper-class people At night, Louis spies them and one night, he kills the butcher by pouring sugar in the essence of his car and the maverick inspector Lavardin (Jean Poiret) keeps on harassing him... Then, Delphine Morasseau, the doctor's wife seems to have absconded while Anna Foscarie (Caroline Cellier) a prostitute is found dead in a car crash. With his unconventional methods, Lavardin will find the truth...
It is at this reading that we fully understand Chabrol's mainspring for the last function of his scenario and perhaps the most essential ingredient: to unearth skeletons in the closet of his trio of bourgeois and to shatter the respectability of the provincial bourgeoisie which has usually been Chabrol's trademark. He tapped it again with gusto here. But his scenario also encompasses a dash of psychology to better construe the persona of his characters and it gives more substance to his work.
Chabrol served his film (and his recipe) with ingenious camera work too. It encompasses neat camera angles and fluid camera movements which can only rejoice the gourmets. To enable them to fully savor the film, Chabrol shot his story on an unhurried pace. There was also effort on the lighting and framing which are up to scratch to the aura the film conveys according to the circumstances. And the director didn't put aside his pronounced taste for gastronomy. The inspector Lavardin is nutty about paprika eggs. He has eaten 30,000 of them in his life! At last, the chef Chabrol spiced up his work with a soupçon of deadpan humor essentially provided by the apparently nice Lavardin. By the way, is it innocuous humor? One has to admit that Lavardin's methods to make the suspects speak aren't really reassuring.
Maybe the cast contains a few little drawbacks. Lucas Belvaux is not bad but often bland. Pauline Laffont's acting is sometimes annoying. Jean Claude Bouillaud acts a caricatured character. But Stéphane Audran (once Mrs Chabrol) is excellent as usual. Like in "la Rupture" (1970), she was Michel Bouquet's enemy. This is precisely Bouquet who dominates the cast at the level of the quality of the acting with of course Jean Poiret.
In the end, the chef Chabrol concocted the audience and his fans an eatable even tasty "Poulet Au Vinaigre" which pleased a lot to the chef's connoisseurs. It was succulent enough to prompt Chabrol to do it again with a sequel which opened the next year: "Inspecteur Lavardin" (1986). That said, Chabrol's "pièce De resistance" in the eighties came with the contemporary "Masques" (1987) which stood the test of time quite well.
When in 1984, Chabrol starts the preparation of this "Poulet Au Vinaigre", he endured three fiasco in a row. The eighties didn't look a fruitful decade for him. "Le Cheval D'Orgeuil" (1980) got bogged down in a spate of clichés about Brittany and betrayed Pierre-Jakey Hélias' book. "Les Fantômes Du Chapelier" (1982), his first venture in Georges Simenon's universe was well received by French critics but hardly anybody went to see it. "Le Sang Des Autres" (1984) was a turgid and impersonal film in his spotty but riveting career.
So, what could Chabrol do to get things back on an even keel and to be reconciled with both critics and his public? Very simply, to cook them a typical Chabrolesque dish to the core with a minimum of money (the filmmaker wanted to show that it was possible to shoot good films with a modest budget in times of inflation) and time (a few weeks of shooting were sufficient for him to shoot his film). Thus, he kept turning over the staple ingredients which made his hallmark recognizable. He needed the apparently peaceful scenery of a small provincial town. Here, he chose Forges-Les Eaux in Normandy which isn't very far from I live in Rouen! The perfect backdrop for his story. Then, precisely a solidly structured story with several functions. First, to grab and entertain the audience and his fans with a certainly derivative but catchy storytelling. Louis Cuno is a timid postman who lives under her mother's thumb (Stéphane Audran). They refuse to sell their house to a trio of perfidious, perverse bourgeois, the doctor Morasseau, the butcher Filiol and the notary Lavoisier (Michel Bouquet) who want to set up a momentous and shady estate business. As he is a postman, Louis gets information about this trio of upper-class people At night, Louis spies them and one night, he kills the butcher by pouring sugar in the essence of his car and the maverick inspector Lavardin (Jean Poiret) keeps on harassing him... Then, Delphine Morasseau, the doctor's wife seems to have absconded while Anna Foscarie (Caroline Cellier) a prostitute is found dead in a car crash. With his unconventional methods, Lavardin will find the truth...
It is at this reading that we fully understand Chabrol's mainspring for the last function of his scenario and perhaps the most essential ingredient: to unearth skeletons in the closet of his trio of bourgeois and to shatter the respectability of the provincial bourgeoisie which has usually been Chabrol's trademark. He tapped it again with gusto here. But his scenario also encompasses a dash of psychology to better construe the persona of his characters and it gives more substance to his work.
Chabrol served his film (and his recipe) with ingenious camera work too. It encompasses neat camera angles and fluid camera movements which can only rejoice the gourmets. To enable them to fully savor the film, Chabrol shot his story on an unhurried pace. There was also effort on the lighting and framing which are up to scratch to the aura the film conveys according to the circumstances. And the director didn't put aside his pronounced taste for gastronomy. The inspector Lavardin is nutty about paprika eggs. He has eaten 30,000 of them in his life! At last, the chef Chabrol spiced up his work with a soupçon of deadpan humor essentially provided by the apparently nice Lavardin. By the way, is it innocuous humor? One has to admit that Lavardin's methods to make the suspects speak aren't really reassuring.
Maybe the cast contains a few little drawbacks. Lucas Belvaux is not bad but often bland. Pauline Laffont's acting is sometimes annoying. Jean Claude Bouillaud acts a caricatured character. But Stéphane Audran (once Mrs Chabrol) is excellent as usual. Like in "la Rupture" (1970), she was Michel Bouquet's enemy. This is precisely Bouquet who dominates the cast at the level of the quality of the acting with of course Jean Poiret.
In the end, the chef Chabrol concocted the audience and his fans an eatable even tasty "Poulet Au Vinaigre" which pleased a lot to the chef's connoisseurs. It was succulent enough to prompt Chabrol to do it again with a sequel which opened the next year: "Inspecteur Lavardin" (1986). That said, Chabrol's "pièce De resistance" in the eighties came with the contemporary "Masques" (1987) which stood the test of time quite well.
- dbdumonteil
- Apr 14, 2006
- Permalink
Adapted by Dominique Roulet from his own novel it doesn't take long to realise that we are in Georges Simenon territory here. Sinister provincial undercurrents, skeletons in the closet and a collection of morally ambiguous, largely dysfunctional characters. It also enables director Claude Chabrol to take aim at his customary target of the beastly bourgoisie. Ingredient X comes in the shape of the truly extraordinary character that is Inspector Jean Lavardin.
He is a maverick who seems to appear from nowhere, is answerable to no one, assumes the role of judge and jury and has his own particular methods of extracting the truth! Jean Poiret is simply superb in the role.
The convoluted plot is almost as labyrinthine as that of 'The Big Sleep' but the performances carry us through. Great support here from M. Chabrol's former spouse Stéphane Audran as wheelchair-bound Madame Cuno and inveterate scene-stealer Michel Bouquet as a flakey lawyer. He had previously appeared in three of Chabrol's worst films and two of his best. Sultry Caroline Cellier, married at the time to Poiret, is the vamp. The nymphet is the enchanting Pauline Lafont who tragically met with a fatal accident at just 25.
Chabrol again utilises his favoured cinematographer Jean Rabier and the suitably menacing score is supplied by his son Matthieu.
Striking while the iron was hot, Chabrol and the excellent Poiret followed up the following year with 'Inspector Lavardin' after which the character was consigned to the small screen. Unsurprisingly Dominique Roulet went on to write a Maigret television series in the late 90's. It is indeed a cruel irony that the follow-up featured Bernardette Lafont, mother of the ill-fated Pauline.
Critics at the time welcomed this film as Chabrol's return to form and although nothing that he did thereafter could really compare with the ones he gave us during his Golden Period from 1968 to 1973, he still produced a few interesting, unsettling and slickly professional pieces, notably those starring super Huppert. Strangely, an actor whose persona seemed ideally suited to Chabrol's oeuvre, Gérard Depardieu, worked with him just once on 'Inspector Bellamy'. Not only Chabrol's swansong but a film which has more than a passing nod to Simenon.
He is a maverick who seems to appear from nowhere, is answerable to no one, assumes the role of judge and jury and has his own particular methods of extracting the truth! Jean Poiret is simply superb in the role.
The convoluted plot is almost as labyrinthine as that of 'The Big Sleep' but the performances carry us through. Great support here from M. Chabrol's former spouse Stéphane Audran as wheelchair-bound Madame Cuno and inveterate scene-stealer Michel Bouquet as a flakey lawyer. He had previously appeared in three of Chabrol's worst films and two of his best. Sultry Caroline Cellier, married at the time to Poiret, is the vamp. The nymphet is the enchanting Pauline Lafont who tragically met with a fatal accident at just 25.
Chabrol again utilises his favoured cinematographer Jean Rabier and the suitably menacing score is supplied by his son Matthieu.
Striking while the iron was hot, Chabrol and the excellent Poiret followed up the following year with 'Inspector Lavardin' after which the character was consigned to the small screen. Unsurprisingly Dominique Roulet went on to write a Maigret television series in the late 90's. It is indeed a cruel irony that the follow-up featured Bernardette Lafont, mother of the ill-fated Pauline.
Critics at the time welcomed this film as Chabrol's return to form and although nothing that he did thereafter could really compare with the ones he gave us during his Golden Period from 1968 to 1973, he still produced a few interesting, unsettling and slickly professional pieces, notably those starring super Huppert. Strangely, an actor whose persona seemed ideally suited to Chabrol's oeuvre, Gérard Depardieu, worked with him just once on 'Inspector Bellamy'. Not only Chabrol's swansong but a film which has more than a passing nod to Simenon.
- brogmiller
- Apr 18, 2021
- Permalink
It is true that Chabrol loosened his grip after 'Les Innocents Aux Mains Sales', possibly horrified by his own insights. This is probably a shame; but the light, comic mysteries and thrillers he has largely produced since are by no means negligible, always entertaining and full of Chabrolian irony and motifs. In this film, believe it or not, he seems to believe in the God of marriage. Normally that venerable institution is the site in Chabrol of repression, a (usually literal) stifling of humanity, a closed, rigid world not too far from hell. With the relaxing of his style comes a relaxing of his world view.
As ever with Chabrol, a young man is being emotionally strangled by his mother's dependence, her emotional paralysis somewhat unsubtly figured in her being crippled. Although the title punningly refers to the detective, and the film is nominally a mystery story, Chabrol seems more interested in his rites-of-passage narrative - the detective doesn't make his first appearance for forty minutes, and doesn't dominate the movie until the last third.
It would be wrong to claim that this is Chabrol in 'realistic' mode, but he certainly gets a sense of a rural town community, its unexpected connections, the malicious schemes of its most respectable citizens; pure soap opera, maybe, but the idea of a society turning in on itself, almost incestuously, is convincing. Louis Cuno is the unexpected centre of the town's secrets, a sullen, gangly, lovestruck teenager, but as postman he connects as no-one else can, betraying his civic trust as he takes home to his mother incriminating letters to peruse, as a defence against plans to demolish their property, destroy their home.
Chabrol usually deals with the threat to the home from within; the extending of focus here, leads to a more relaxed film. Because the film focuses of Louis, whose not always legal actions are treated indulgently by director and detective alike, the other characters are more shadowy, more like caricatures, minimising the mystery, making its potentially horrifying conclusions somewhat perfunctory. Chabrol doesn't let his hero off too easily, as we suspect Louis is exchanging one mother for another; his initiation into the delights of sex is in the grounds of a country house, a typically Chabrolian green space blighted by the surveilling eyes of the detective.
Spying is one of the main themes of the film, from the camera taking pictures at the beginning, to Louis' nocturnal amateur detective work. In such a community, private and public space are not so clearly marked, and one's identity is as much defined by one's public role (doctor, butcher etc.) as by any personal merit, so there is something creepy as well as comic about this police (the Law) spying on the sexual act.
There is something creepy about this policeman, anyway. Unlike the rooted, defined villagers, he is a rootless stranger, without motive, personality, role, except to solve the crime (he keeps insisting that he is the 'flic'), in order to do which he resorts to alarming thuggery, even more objectionable than Harry Callahan, whose heart at least was in the right place. Don't be fooled by Chabrol's autumnal cheerfulness - this is a vinaigre with a very bitter aftertaste.
As ever with Chabrol, a young man is being emotionally strangled by his mother's dependence, her emotional paralysis somewhat unsubtly figured in her being crippled. Although the title punningly refers to the detective, and the film is nominally a mystery story, Chabrol seems more interested in his rites-of-passage narrative - the detective doesn't make his first appearance for forty minutes, and doesn't dominate the movie until the last third.
It would be wrong to claim that this is Chabrol in 'realistic' mode, but he certainly gets a sense of a rural town community, its unexpected connections, the malicious schemes of its most respectable citizens; pure soap opera, maybe, but the idea of a society turning in on itself, almost incestuously, is convincing. Louis Cuno is the unexpected centre of the town's secrets, a sullen, gangly, lovestruck teenager, but as postman he connects as no-one else can, betraying his civic trust as he takes home to his mother incriminating letters to peruse, as a defence against plans to demolish their property, destroy their home.
Chabrol usually deals with the threat to the home from within; the extending of focus here, leads to a more relaxed film. Because the film focuses of Louis, whose not always legal actions are treated indulgently by director and detective alike, the other characters are more shadowy, more like caricatures, minimising the mystery, making its potentially horrifying conclusions somewhat perfunctory. Chabrol doesn't let his hero off too easily, as we suspect Louis is exchanging one mother for another; his initiation into the delights of sex is in the grounds of a country house, a typically Chabrolian green space blighted by the surveilling eyes of the detective.
Spying is one of the main themes of the film, from the camera taking pictures at the beginning, to Louis' nocturnal amateur detective work. In such a community, private and public space are not so clearly marked, and one's identity is as much defined by one's public role (doctor, butcher etc.) as by any personal merit, so there is something creepy as well as comic about this police (the Law) spying on the sexual act.
There is something creepy about this policeman, anyway. Unlike the rooted, defined villagers, he is a rootless stranger, without motive, personality, role, except to solve the crime (he keeps insisting that he is the 'flic'), in order to do which he resorts to alarming thuggery, even more objectionable than Harry Callahan, whose heart at least was in the right place. Don't be fooled by Chabrol's autumnal cheerfulness - this is a vinaigre with a very bitter aftertaste.
- the red duchess
- Dec 19, 2000
- Permalink
The first half of "Cop Au Vin" is kind of muddled, and even borderline dull at times: lots of characters and backstories are thrown at you as if you're supposed to know them already (you may need a second viewing to take it all in). Things start to get more interesting when a vengeful prank misfires into something much worse, and then get even more interesting when Inspector Lavardin arrives on the scene. Lavardin is like a strange cross between Hercule Poirot (in his eccentricity and intuition), and Dirty Harry (in his unorthodox and occasionally even violent methods of investigation and interrogation). Another character I really liked was the hero's girlfriend (played by Pauline Lafont, who tragically died in an accident only three years later): every boy should be so lucky to get his emotional / sexual maturing via such a beautiful, affectionate and playful girl. The (good-looking and well-acted) movie ends with a couple of Agatha Christie-type twists: two of them blindsided me, but the one about the mother (Stephane Audran), for some reason I suspected it from the beginning. Leonard Maltin gives this ***1/2 out of 4 stars, but IMO he's overrating it; I'll give it **1/2.
- gridoon2024
- Feb 28, 2010
- Permalink
This is a pretty conventional crime thriller of the 1980s, with some criminally dull characterisation and limp acting performances. None of the principal characters, except the formidable Lavardin, appears to have any substance, and the end result is by and large lacklustre and plodding.
Thankfully, the film does have its saving graces. Firstly, the character of Lavardin is well played by Jean Poiret. The police inspector's methods and persona are so unconventional that he comes across as more frightening and sinister than any of the murder suspects. Then there is Mathieu Chabrol's eerie background music which imbues a sense of menace into even the (few) lighter scenes. But the strongest selling point is the camera work, heavily embossed with Chabrol's style. This film has some very chilling moments which are achieved through a clever combination of lighting and camera angles. The style is that of a very sophisticated suspense thriller, even if the content isn't.
Although the films does succeed to some extent at a technical level, the shallowness of the characterisation and the overly complex plot drag the film down to the ranks - almost - of a somewhat mediocre television movie.
Thankfully, the film does have its saving graces. Firstly, the character of Lavardin is well played by Jean Poiret. The police inspector's methods and persona are so unconventional that he comes across as more frightening and sinister than any of the murder suspects. Then there is Mathieu Chabrol's eerie background music which imbues a sense of menace into even the (few) lighter scenes. But the strongest selling point is the camera work, heavily embossed with Chabrol's style. This film has some very chilling moments which are achieved through a clever combination of lighting and camera angles. The style is that of a very sophisticated suspense thriller, even if the content isn't.
Although the films does succeed to some extent at a technical level, the shallowness of the characterisation and the overly complex plot drag the film down to the ranks - almost - of a somewhat mediocre television movie.
- jameswtravers
- Jun 10, 2000
- Permalink
After another undue interruption in my ongoing Chabrol tribute – incidentally, I messed up the date and he will only turn 80 on the 24th of June rather than last May! – I plan to tackle it in earnest now, a task which will occupy me till the end of the month (to go along with a parallel Dennis Hopper tribute).
Anyway, this proved to be another stepping-stone in the French director's erratic but prolific filmography; by the end of the 1970s, his career had suffered a decline but it got back on track with this enjoyable award-winning thriller (incidentally, the hybrid retitling for U.S. consumption was an unusual touch), one that was successful enough to warrant a sequel – INSPECTOR LAVARDIN (1986; a viewing of which is to follow this one) – and a brief TV series made between 1988 and 1990 which seems to be unavailable for re-appraisal.
Still, for all the film's typical elements of detailed setting, nuanced characterization and ironic outlook, it does not quite scale the heights of Chabrol's finest work due to an essentially flimsy plot: indeed, even such later – and ostensibly lower-profile – efforts as the recently-viewed THE CRY OF THE OWL (1987) involve a denser and more gripping narrative! This is not to say that COP AU VIN lacks suspense or surprise: actually, the latter concerns most of all the iconoclastic Inspector himself – in spite of a dapper facade, he is blasé, forthright (even referring to a character's effeminacy as "AC/DC"!) and not above breaking into premises sans warrant or intimidating suspects to get at the truth – belatedly called in to investigate a murder, only to be met with a very similar one soon after and, later, the disappearance of a woman, all of whom are tied to a property development company whose methods are not the most ethical either.
Jean Poiret, ideally cast here and who would of course reprise the central role in the sequel(s), had garnered a reputation as a playwright and even secured an Oscar nomination for co-writing LA CAGE AUX FOLLES (1978); then in 1992, the same year he died of a heart attack (at 65), he stepped into the director's chair with LE ZEBRE (which won him a posthumous Cesar for Best First Film)! Incidentally, later on in the decade, he married one of his co-stars here i.e. Caroline Cellier (who, years before, had been the leading lady in arguably Chabrol's masterpiece THIS MAN MUST DIE [1969]); besides the latter, the film under review featured two of the director's frequent protagonists in supporting roles: ex-wife Stephane Audran (playing an invalid) and a very slim Michel Bouquet. Also on hand is amiably kooky Pauline Lafont (daughter of Bernadette, another "New Wave" regular and who would actually co-star in INSPECTOR LAVARDIN) – whose promising career was brought to a premature end when she perished in a fall, at just 25 years of age, in 1988!
Anyway, this proved to be another stepping-stone in the French director's erratic but prolific filmography; by the end of the 1970s, his career had suffered a decline but it got back on track with this enjoyable award-winning thriller (incidentally, the hybrid retitling for U.S. consumption was an unusual touch), one that was successful enough to warrant a sequel – INSPECTOR LAVARDIN (1986; a viewing of which is to follow this one) – and a brief TV series made between 1988 and 1990 which seems to be unavailable for re-appraisal.
Still, for all the film's typical elements of detailed setting, nuanced characterization and ironic outlook, it does not quite scale the heights of Chabrol's finest work due to an essentially flimsy plot: indeed, even such later – and ostensibly lower-profile – efforts as the recently-viewed THE CRY OF THE OWL (1987) involve a denser and more gripping narrative! This is not to say that COP AU VIN lacks suspense or surprise: actually, the latter concerns most of all the iconoclastic Inspector himself – in spite of a dapper facade, he is blasé, forthright (even referring to a character's effeminacy as "AC/DC"!) and not above breaking into premises sans warrant or intimidating suspects to get at the truth – belatedly called in to investigate a murder, only to be met with a very similar one soon after and, later, the disappearance of a woman, all of whom are tied to a property development company whose methods are not the most ethical either.
Jean Poiret, ideally cast here and who would of course reprise the central role in the sequel(s), had garnered a reputation as a playwright and even secured an Oscar nomination for co-writing LA CAGE AUX FOLLES (1978); then in 1992, the same year he died of a heart attack (at 65), he stepped into the director's chair with LE ZEBRE (which won him a posthumous Cesar for Best First Film)! Incidentally, later on in the decade, he married one of his co-stars here i.e. Caroline Cellier (who, years before, had been the leading lady in arguably Chabrol's masterpiece THIS MAN MUST DIE [1969]); besides the latter, the film under review featured two of the director's frequent protagonists in supporting roles: ex-wife Stephane Audran (playing an invalid) and a very slim Michel Bouquet. Also on hand is amiably kooky Pauline Lafont (daughter of Bernadette, another "New Wave" regular and who would actually co-star in INSPECTOR LAVARDIN) – whose promising career was brought to a premature end when she perished in a fall, at just 25 years of age, in 1988!
- Bunuel1976
- Jun 10, 2010
- Permalink
Poiret worked with Michel Serrault on several films, and wrote the script for La cage aux folles, one of the most successful French films of all time. He's a veteran in the industry, so Chabrol must have figured Poiret could improve the box-office figures for this tight little noir. Here again, Chabrol is condemning the provincial bourgeoisie for all the venality and murderous lust they're capable of.
Poiret doesn't disappoint. He's very rough with some slimy characters in this small town; it's fun to watch him dunking the lawyer's face in the sink full of water as he cheerily goes through the interrogation. He's a lot more fun to watch than Clint Eastwood ever was. The expression "pince-sans-rire" could have been invented to describe this actor.
Poiret doesn't disappoint. He's very rough with some slimy characters in this small town; it's fun to watch him dunking the lawyer's face in the sink full of water as he cheerily goes through the interrogation. He's a lot more fun to watch than Clint Eastwood ever was. The expression "pince-sans-rire" could have been invented to describe this actor.
An overbearing wheelchair bound woman and her postman son are threatened by a group of amoral businessmen from the local village who want their property for a lucrative development project. The mother gets her son to bring in the mail pertaining to these men and steams open their letters in order to keep abreast of their plans. Meanwhile, a couple of suspicious deaths follow and a police inspector with questionable methods gets involved, attempting to solve the crime.
This 80's Claude Chabrol murder-mystery is not one that I would describe as occupying the upper bracket of his work. Its plot-line has quite a few things happening in it but it consequently doesn't have the focus of his best work. It still follows the basic template he often seems to follow in that its story is underpinned by a crime but the real focus of attention seems to be on the weaknesses and character defects of its cast. This one is no different but doesn't have as interesting dynamics between its characters as usual. Chabrol's wife and regular actress Stephane Audran appears as the wheelchair-bound mother. She was often the best thing about the movies she appeared in but here her character is somewhat unappealing and she is never the main focus in any case. The setting is pure Chabrol though, small-town rural France with the typical pastel colour scheme to match. The mystery itself is serviceable enough and the various plot strands do ensure there is enough going on but this is not top drawer Chabrol for me.
This 80's Claude Chabrol murder-mystery is not one that I would describe as occupying the upper bracket of his work. Its plot-line has quite a few things happening in it but it consequently doesn't have the focus of his best work. It still follows the basic template he often seems to follow in that its story is underpinned by a crime but the real focus of attention seems to be on the weaknesses and character defects of its cast. This one is no different but doesn't have as interesting dynamics between its characters as usual. Chabrol's wife and regular actress Stephane Audran appears as the wheelchair-bound mother. She was often the best thing about the movies she appeared in but here her character is somewhat unappealing and she is never the main focus in any case. The setting is pure Chabrol though, small-town rural France with the typical pastel colour scheme to match. The mystery itself is serviceable enough and the various plot strands do ensure there is enough going on but this is not top drawer Chabrol for me.
- Red-Barracuda
- Mar 16, 2015
- Permalink
- writers_reign
- Oct 22, 2012
- Permalink
An early scene in "Cop au Vin" (or "Poulet au vinaigre") features a petulant Mommy's boy, a domineering mother and a cellar. Sound familiar? However, this is Chabrol and not Hitchcock though you may say that's the next best thing. "Cop au Vin" may not be in the front rank of Chabrol movies but this excellent account of typically well-heeled Chabrolians doing nasty things to each other will do very nicely indeed.
Naturally Stephane Audran is here; she's the domineering mother, this time confined to a wheelchair, and about to be evicted from her home by those nasty rich people. Lucas Belvaux is the petulant son and others in the cast include the wonderful Michel Bouquet, Jean Topart, Pauline Lafont and Jean Poiret as the very unorthodox inspector brought in to investigate a couple of mysterious deaths. There may not be anything profoundly engaging or even particularly memorable about the picture but it remains a highly enjoyable thriller and is certainly no disgrace to the names of either Chabrol or his mentor, Mr Hitchcock.
Naturally Stephane Audran is here; she's the domineering mother, this time confined to a wheelchair, and about to be evicted from her home by those nasty rich people. Lucas Belvaux is the petulant son and others in the cast include the wonderful Michel Bouquet, Jean Topart, Pauline Lafont and Jean Poiret as the very unorthodox inspector brought in to investigate a couple of mysterious deaths. There may not be anything profoundly engaging or even particularly memorable about the picture but it remains a highly enjoyable thriller and is certainly no disgrace to the names of either Chabrol or his mentor, Mr Hitchcock.
- MOscarbradley
- Feb 1, 2017
- Permalink
- BandSAboutMovies
- Feb 5, 2022
- Permalink
Overall this is a mediocre offering at best. Clearly the low budget shows and the films has the feel of a Saturday night TV cop show for middle aged viewers. The story is not particularly original and it takes forever to get going. If you leave the room for 16 minutes you probably haven't missed anything. The directing is conventional which goes back to this film feeling like a TV show that's 30 minutes too long. Some reviewers rave about Poiret's performance. I find that strange because for me the is no consistency in the portrayal of the investigating officer. It's watchable but not a film that enriches your life.
- profkringsconsulting
- Sep 20, 2023
- Permalink
A splendid film which is a simple idea of a mother and her son trying to hold on to her house with several people trying to get it away from them. Although it is a bit more than some of them can imagine in a small village. The son is the postman and can get at the letters as well as getting around some of those who want the house. It gets much more complicated, and funny. The wonderful performance by Jean Poiret as the laconic Detective Inspector who has very unusual methods including violence and sure he can do anything he wants, and being very clever. It is interesting and exciting throughout, and especially the wonderful part by Stephane Audran and an excellent denouement still smiling during the credits.
- christopher-underwood
- Jun 6, 2022
- Permalink
'Cop au vin' (an inspired translation of the original title 'Poulet au vinaigre') is one of those films by Claude Chabrol which, when viewed, I have the impression that they were made with Alfred Hitchcock looking approvingly over the French director's shoulder during its production. The story takes place in a small French town where the banality of houses and the apparent dullness of the people create an atmosphere of threatening normalcy which itself is a prelude to the dangerous events and situations that can not be too late to show up. The characters are diverse, some nice and some evil, but all interesting and, in addition, with a degree of madness that arouses and amplifies the interest of the viewers. The cinematography pplaces the characters in context very well, revealing what is needed to arouse curiosity and hiding what we should not find out, as spectators, too quickly. Music creates or amplifies suspense. But in addition toHitchcock-like films, we can also enjoy a dose of French specificity in 'Cop au vin'. A 'special sauce' to use a culinary term in harmony with the titles.
The two-story house where Madame Cuno, a wheelchair-bound widow lives together with her son, the very young Louis, the postman who delivers the correspondence at a time when this is still being carried in envelopes that could be opened, could be a motel at the crossroads as in Psycho. It becomes the setting for part of the story and the object that triggers the plot, as it is coveted by some of the important people of the place. The story is quite complex, husbands and mistresses appear and disappear, more or less accidental car collisions happen, police investigations are conducted with very unconventional methods. In the end, however, it is not the police intrigue that gives the film its charm. I confess that I didn't fully understand it, maybe I did not pay enough attention or maybe it was too complicated. My interest was drawn to the gallery of characters full of charm and color and to the excellent cinematography (by Jean Rabier). Performers include Stéphane Audran (Chabrol's ex, the film is made after they divorced) and Michel Bouquet, who were among the director's favorite actors, as well as Lucas Belvaux, who played the role of Louis, an interesting actor whom I did not see lately. Jean Poiret plays the role of Inspector Lavardin, a role that would turn the film into a tentative head of a series that will be continued in the coming years. 'Cop au vin' is a film with many qualities, which remains to this day an entertainment that should not be avoided.
The two-story house where Madame Cuno, a wheelchair-bound widow lives together with her son, the very young Louis, the postman who delivers the correspondence at a time when this is still being carried in envelopes that could be opened, could be a motel at the crossroads as in Psycho. It becomes the setting for part of the story and the object that triggers the plot, as it is coveted by some of the important people of the place. The story is quite complex, husbands and mistresses appear and disappear, more or less accidental car collisions happen, police investigations are conducted with very unconventional methods. In the end, however, it is not the police intrigue that gives the film its charm. I confess that I didn't fully understand it, maybe I did not pay enough attention or maybe it was too complicated. My interest was drawn to the gallery of characters full of charm and color and to the excellent cinematography (by Jean Rabier). Performers include Stéphane Audran (Chabrol's ex, the film is made after they divorced) and Michel Bouquet, who were among the director's favorite actors, as well as Lucas Belvaux, who played the role of Louis, an interesting actor whom I did not see lately. Jean Poiret plays the role of Inspector Lavardin, a role that would turn the film into a tentative head of a series that will be continued in the coming years. 'Cop au vin' is a film with many qualities, which remains to this day an entertainment that should not be avoided.
It actually can't get much more French than in this Chabrol. I mean, French of the last millennium; and yet.
The first half is the lesser part, it reminds one more of some crime story where everyone seems to understand and yet, the viewer is totally out of touch. A grain of film noir.
Then, the inspector drops into the village, knowing nothing more than the audience. But while he starts to string things together, the audience can follow and unravel more and more.
Chabrol explores all depths and widths of the psychology of the typical elder white rich prominent figure of the typical French village. A maîtresse, a bit of boredom, plenty of money and still greedy. The ugly bourgeois.
I for one enjoy the very minor role of the chief of postal services. The opposite and yet original French bureaucrat. I guess Chabrol enjoyed that one as well.
French, I dare say typical French, too, the encouraging behaviour of the young lady working in the post office. French women used to enjoy their freedom already some generations ago.
French, alas, though a tad overdone, the liberties of the police inspector.
Plus, on top of a gifted director, a honourable set of acting capabilities. Stéphane Audran, Chabrol's ex, amazing as the frustrated wheel-chair bound femme. Left by her husband, and thinking of nothing but the girlfriends of her son.
Let's put it like this: if this wasn't just French, and therefore digestible by the audience in the anglo-american half of the world, it would be ranked significantly higher.
The first half is the lesser part, it reminds one more of some crime story where everyone seems to understand and yet, the viewer is totally out of touch. A grain of film noir.
Then, the inspector drops into the village, knowing nothing more than the audience. But while he starts to string things together, the audience can follow and unravel more and more.
Chabrol explores all depths and widths of the psychology of the typical elder white rich prominent figure of the typical French village. A maîtresse, a bit of boredom, plenty of money and still greedy. The ugly bourgeois.
I for one enjoy the very minor role of the chief of postal services. The opposite and yet original French bureaucrat. I guess Chabrol enjoyed that one as well.
French, I dare say typical French, too, the encouraging behaviour of the young lady working in the post office. French women used to enjoy their freedom already some generations ago.
French, alas, though a tad overdone, the liberties of the police inspector.
Plus, on top of a gifted director, a honourable set of acting capabilities. Stéphane Audran, Chabrol's ex, amazing as the frustrated wheel-chair bound femme. Left by her husband, and thinking of nothing but the girlfriends of her son.
Let's put it like this: if this wasn't just French, and therefore digestible by the audience in the anglo-american half of the world, it would be ranked significantly higher.
- myriamlenys
- Jun 29, 2021
- Permalink
Claude Chabrol ranks among the French directors who left behind them an impressive crop of movies and his filmography remains wildly uneven. The flicks he directed before Poulet au Vinaigre (1985) and after reflect this irregularity. Le Cheval d'Orgueil (1980) didn't do Pierre Jakez Helias' book justice. Les Fantômes du Chapelier (1982), on the other hand were a solid adaptation of George Simenon's book. But le Sang des Autres (1984) was another failure.
Poulet au Vinaigre is like a return to the director's basics and a strong one to boot. First, the film was shot in a few weeks in the small town of Forges Les Eaux in Normandy at the fall 1984. Secondly, it was shot on a shoestring buget even if it's hardly perceptible on the screen and for the filmmaker it heralded a fruitful partnership with producer Marin Karmitz. Then, Chabrol obviously wished to go back to his favorite theme: to denounce the flaws of the bourgeois world and here, he spectacularly renewed his vision through an innovative narrative process.
Indeed, Poulet au Vinaigre is a small milestone in Chabrol's world in the way it introduces an eccentric character: inspector Lavardin. Although he doesn't appear before the first 45 minutes of the film, his presence is ground-breaking. Using irony as if it flew naturally, he acts as a catalyst in the revelation of corruption that thrives in the middle town. Besides when the prostitute Anna Foscarie (Caroline Cellier) says to the young postman, Louis Cuno (Lucas Delvaux): "get me out of here", it says everything. Besides, Lavardin isn't afraid to use peculiar methods to arrive to his ends and particularly to shatter what lies beneath the hypocrisy of the upper class. The scene, when he beats up the notary Hubert Lavoisier (Michel Bouquet) worths its weight in gold. On the other hand, he even epitomizes a sort of father figure for Louis albeit with once again controversial methods and it's significant that he's the only one to come into Louis' house. At last he has a flair for making some secondary characters much more ambiguous and not so friendly as they seem at first glance like the postwoman Henriette or the bartender Dédé. As Lavardin says to the latter: "one can do everything dude when one is in the police!" Indeed, with him sordid facts are transmuted with a big whiff of weird humor and the whole film looks like a delighting massacre game with a geniune morale.
As one says, you don't change a winning team. So, Chabrol's will to return to what he knows best also expressed through his choice of actors, many of them old hand ones. Stéphane Audran, once Mrs Chabrol works wonders as a possessive, half-mad mother. Caroline Cellier, Jean Poiret's wife brings a touch of lightness in this sultry world whereas Michel Bouquet with his hoarse voice embodies with perfection his role of a corrupt notary. At last, the movie enabled Lucas Belvaux to start a prolific career in French cinema, both as an actor and as a director.
When the film was released, Chabrol was confident in the success the film would garner thanks to Jean Poiret: "when Jean arrived, it was obvious the film was going to perform well". He was intuitive and in the end, the chef Chabrol concocted a delicious cinematographic dish with highly personal ingredients that mesh so well that the result is a gustative pleasure. And if you wish some more, I can easily recommand the sequel Inspecteur Lavardin (1986) as well as the tv mini series, les Dossiers de l'Inspecteur Lavardin broadcast at the tail end of the eighties. At last, congratulations to the English distrbutors who found an equivalent for the translation of the film because "Cop au Vin" is a play on word with a French recipe entiled Coq au Vin.
NB: I live not very far from Forges Les Eaux and I was amused at discovering locations that were used as the back drop of the film like doctor Morasseau's big house and garden that are on the edge of town or the town square.
Poulet au Vinaigre is like a return to the director's basics and a strong one to boot. First, the film was shot in a few weeks in the small town of Forges Les Eaux in Normandy at the fall 1984. Secondly, it was shot on a shoestring buget even if it's hardly perceptible on the screen and for the filmmaker it heralded a fruitful partnership with producer Marin Karmitz. Then, Chabrol obviously wished to go back to his favorite theme: to denounce the flaws of the bourgeois world and here, he spectacularly renewed his vision through an innovative narrative process.
Indeed, Poulet au Vinaigre is a small milestone in Chabrol's world in the way it introduces an eccentric character: inspector Lavardin. Although he doesn't appear before the first 45 minutes of the film, his presence is ground-breaking. Using irony as if it flew naturally, he acts as a catalyst in the revelation of corruption that thrives in the middle town. Besides when the prostitute Anna Foscarie (Caroline Cellier) says to the young postman, Louis Cuno (Lucas Delvaux): "get me out of here", it says everything. Besides, Lavardin isn't afraid to use peculiar methods to arrive to his ends and particularly to shatter what lies beneath the hypocrisy of the upper class. The scene, when he beats up the notary Hubert Lavoisier (Michel Bouquet) worths its weight in gold. On the other hand, he even epitomizes a sort of father figure for Louis albeit with once again controversial methods and it's significant that he's the only one to come into Louis' house. At last he has a flair for making some secondary characters much more ambiguous and not so friendly as they seem at first glance like the postwoman Henriette or the bartender Dédé. As Lavardin says to the latter: "one can do everything dude when one is in the police!" Indeed, with him sordid facts are transmuted with a big whiff of weird humor and the whole film looks like a delighting massacre game with a geniune morale.
As one says, you don't change a winning team. So, Chabrol's will to return to what he knows best also expressed through his choice of actors, many of them old hand ones. Stéphane Audran, once Mrs Chabrol works wonders as a possessive, half-mad mother. Caroline Cellier, Jean Poiret's wife brings a touch of lightness in this sultry world whereas Michel Bouquet with his hoarse voice embodies with perfection his role of a corrupt notary. At last, the movie enabled Lucas Belvaux to start a prolific career in French cinema, both as an actor and as a director.
When the film was released, Chabrol was confident in the success the film would garner thanks to Jean Poiret: "when Jean arrived, it was obvious the film was going to perform well". He was intuitive and in the end, the chef Chabrol concocted a delicious cinematographic dish with highly personal ingredients that mesh so well that the result is a gustative pleasure. And if you wish some more, I can easily recommand the sequel Inspecteur Lavardin (1986) as well as the tv mini series, les Dossiers de l'Inspecteur Lavardin broadcast at the tail end of the eighties. At last, congratulations to the English distrbutors who found an equivalent for the translation of the film because "Cop au Vin" is a play on word with a French recipe entiled Coq au Vin.
NB: I live not very far from Forges Les Eaux and I was amused at discovering locations that were used as the back drop of the film like doctor Morasseau's big house and garden that are on the edge of town or the town square.