Bay of Angels

I was chilled to the bone, and mesmerized, by the dark crime of M (1931). Then, in the double-feature session, the 15-y-o boy trespassing as a 17-y-o, quickly changed his temperature when the 'great sinner' Jeanne Moreau appeared on La Baie des Anges (1963). «Actress Moreau forcefully demonstrates the verve, style and flamboyant femaless that make her the envy of European sex symbols much greener in years and cooler in blood. Her wicked, winning presence has saved a bad movie from utter oblivion, and at 36 she knows how to turn Bay of the Angels into a one woman show.» So wrote a reviewer (Time, November 27, 1964), and I couldn't put it better; I'm now copying this from my typewritten notes - no photocopier at home, then. That young boy would never enter a casino in his life due to this film, and he tried to see all the films starring Jeanne Moreau. I'm a winner on two counts, by money not given away to casino owners, and by a plethora of good films that were saved from oblivion by this great woman, and actress.

Jean is a clerk in a bank. His colleague Caron is a gambler and gives him the virus. In the casinos, Jean meets Jackie. Their love affair will follow their luck at the roulette.

Jacques Demy was still early in his career at this point, having really only made one film, "Lola". He returns here to black and white and a non-musical, the second and last time he would do that. But he always told stories of love and this is no exception. (Some think he had his own take on Hollywood, but that is a whole other issue.)

Here gambling, especially roulette, is glamorized. At a time when gambling was run out of Cuba and was illegal basically everywhere in the United States besides Nevada, there is a sense of mystique about gambling that evokes thoughts of James Bond. This film captures that perfectly.

Boy, take Demy away from musicals and he becomes one rather somber director, huh? In other words, I disagree with the previous reviewer, theognis 80821, who described this very bleak study of two chronic gamblers as "fun". In fact, it's so un fun that I sedulously did not buy the tacked on happy ending when Jeanne Moreau's walking ad for gamblers anonymous suddenly and inexplicably decides to renounce roulette for stolid Claude Mann (who may look like Belmondo but does not resemble his acting).

However, until that cloying last scene Demy does not hit a false note as he relentlessly chronicles the toll this insidious addiction takes on a woman of intelligence and sensitivity to the point where husband and child are tragically renounced for momentary highs at expensive and tawdry casinos. And Moreau's great performance ensures that you experience the full ugliness of it. Give it a B plus which would have been higher without that sappy ending and a different actor in the lead opposite Ms. Moreau.

Jacques Demy's "Bay Of Angels" may be the best movie ever made about compulsive gambling, along with the appropriately titled "The Gambler" (1974). It's not "realistic" in its technicalities (winning three consecutive times by betting on a single roulette number happens ONLY in the movies), but I don't think it wants to be; what it's trying to get at is the psychology of gambling, and at that it succeeds (in fact, it shows two different "types" of players: the wetting-his-feet and the full addict). This movie, which offers a rare view of the high and low life in and around the Nice and Monte Carlo casinos circa 1963, has the immediacy and spontaneity that the French New Wave often strived for, minus any of the pretentiousness (just compare it with Godard's not dissimilar "Pierrot Le Fou"). Jeanne Moreau sports an iconic look and plays a daringly flawed female character; the much lesser-known internationally Claude Mann is also very good. It's a minor classic. ***1/2 out of 4.

Jacques Demy's second feature is an amazingly fluid, vibrant comedy about love and luck, starring Jeanne Moreau at her (dazzling) best. And she is literally dazzling, in resplendent costumes (mostly by Pierre Cardin) and radiantly blonde. The music by Michel Legrand is one of his best scores ever, as it sweeps through the film, carrying everything along with two basic themes, one furiously accelerated piano theme, the other a softer, more lilting theme played in different variations, but mostly on the mandolin. It's a movie that sweeps you along, just as fast and unpredictable as a spin on the roulette wheel. This is a film in which "black-and-white" becomes a dazzling metaphor, so that the sun-drenched exteriors of the south of France are contrasted with the various interiors of hotel rooms and casinos. LA BAIE DES ANGES may seem slight, but only "seems": it's one of the most passionate statements on love and faith in the modern cinema, and it's a work of true enchantment.