Criterion Collection: Le Silence de la Mer | Blu-ray Review

Available for the first time in the US on Blu-ray and DVD is Jean-Pierre Melville’s masterful directorial debut, 1949’s Le Silence de la Mer (The Silence of the Sea). Based on a famous underground novel published secretly in 1942 by author Jean Bruller, written under the pseudonym Vercours, the exceptional debut precedes the brooding themes that would grace Melville’s later noir and gangster films, as well as the continuation of period pieces concerning Nazi occupied France. Understated and elegant, it’s an incredibly haunting first title from the self-made auteur, an actual member of the French resistance (he adopted his surname for his love of author Herman Melville and it remained his pseudonym after the war).

Opening with a statement that the film has ‘no pretensions’ as concerns the relationship with France and Germany (whose people were complicit with the Nazi’s rise to power), we hear the omniscient narration of an elder Frenchman, simply known as the uncle (Jean-Marie Robain). He begins by explaining the presence of two German soldiers unexpectedly visiting his home, where he resides with his niece (Nicole Stephane). They soldiers are scoping out potential room and board. Soon after they leave, a new tenant announces himself, the generally affable Lieutenant Werner von Ebrennac (Howard Vernon). The man and his niece exchange not one word with the man, who prattles on, oblivious to their silence. As a defense mechanism and an act of rebellion, they continue to ignore his presence, treating him as if he were a shadow. The lieutenant begins to make it a habit of visiting them by their fire in the evening, out of uniform. He often muses aloud about his life, his passion for France, his relationship with various women, trying foolheartedly to gain the attention of the niece. Naive and optimistic, he leaves for Paris, and reconnects with several old friends that have changed significantly since the inception of the Nazi party, and he’s shocked to learn the extent of depravity that’s been raging on around him.

Hardly a sympathetic portrait of German culpability, Le Silence de la Mer is a memorable echo of the evils made possible in the face of ignorance and blind allegiance. Somber, and filled with an ambience that recalls the angular, constrictive shadows of film noir, brilliant DoP Henri Decae seems to be channeling a mixture of German expressionism and Carl Theodor Dreyer with his extreme close-ups on faces, particularly with that of Nicole Stephane. Actor Howard Vernon’s incredibly striking visage is often shot from low angles, and he’s initially framed like some kind of insidious creature, similar to Conrad Veidt’s infamous somnambulist in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.

What’s most impressive is Melville’s ability to turn the lieutenant into a character worthy of a certain amount of sympathy, a man who equates the Nazi occupation of France with the French fairy tale of Beauty and the Beast (which, in turn, recalls Cocteau’s classic, released only three years prior in 1946—and Melville would go on to adapt Cocteau’s novel Les Enfants Terribles). It’s a reference that hints at the reluctant form of Stockholm Syndrome that transpires when in close proximity with humans seemingly at odds. Likewise, the lieutenant goes on to excitedly share an allusion to Macbeth, which he believes to be a nifty metaphor for how this occupation will benefit both countries. His sobering realization in Paris (where Vernon’s curious look stands out even more amidst a group of men meant to be his peers) is a parallel to a date he relates to the uncle and niece, told in flashback. A pretty young blonde woman remarks how lovely all God’s creatures are, moments later cursing an insect that stings her, viciously ripping out all its legs to exact cruel vengeance for her discomfort. Women don’t figure prominently here, as is usually the case in Melville’s oeuvre. Robain’s narration speaks for the niece’s character, and she only utters two lines herself, one about an hour into the film, and the other a sad, quiet farewell.

Melville, denied a license to be an Assistant Director after the war ended, went ahead with adapting this text without obtaining the rights first. This eventually brought about a meeting with Jean Bruller, who threatened to destroy the narrative if he was displeased. Robain would appear in several of Melville’s most famed works, while Howard Vernon would go on to star in hundreds of titles, including many giallo and Hammer films, before figuring into Marc Caro & Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s debut, Delicatessen (1991).

Disc Review:

This new high-definition restoration is presented in 1.33:1 aspect ratio, and Criterion’s first rate transfer looks superlative—if you watched this in silence, you’d assume it to be a film noir. As usual, a slew of extra features are certainly worth checking out.

24 Hours in the Life of a Clown:
Melville’s 1946 short film about two circus clowns runs nearly twenty minutes. His first cinematic endeavor, it’s an interesting starting point.

Interview with Ginette Vicendeau:
An interview with film scholar Ginette Vicendeau, author of Jean-Pierre Melville: An American in Paris conducted by Criterion in November, 2014 is just under twenty minutes and discusses the director’s origination of Le Silence de la Mer.

Code Name Melville (2008):
A seventy-six minute documentary by Olivier Bohler on Melville’s time in the French Resistance and his films about it, this a comprehensive, very informative feature that features a great deal of interview footage of Melville, as well as a host of other notables, including Volker Schlondorff and Johnnie To.

Melville Steps out of the Shadows (2010):
Also not to miss is this forty-two minute documentary about the making of Le Silence de la Mer from 2010, which features interviews with Schlondorff, Nicole Stephane, cinematographer Pierre Lhomme, and Rui Nogueira (author of Melville on Melville).

Interview with Melville:
A 1959 interview with Jean-Pierre Melville that aired on the French television program Cinepanorama is very brief (under two minutes), but has the director discussing how he eventually received the author’s approval to adapt Le Silence de la Mer.

Final Thoughts:

Le Silence de la Mer is a meticulously constructed reenactment of resistance. Lesser known than more popular titles from Melville that deal with similar circumstances, such as Leon Morin, Priest (1961) and the epically staged The Army of Shadows (1969), this expressive and elegant film may be the most sorrowful of the three.

Film: ★★★★/☆☆☆☆☆
Disc: ★★★★/☆☆☆☆☆