Just Before Nightfall

"Just Before Nightfall" is a slow, grim, gritty, no-nonsense film. It seems as if director Claude Chabrol is saying to the viewer, "Look, don't expect to be charmed or pleased by this film -- that would be pointless for everyone. I'm interested in one thing, and one thing only: the theme of the story. Anything else would be a pointless distraction." If the viewer is willing to go along with Chabrol for the ride, Just Before Nightfall is a rich and moving film.

"Just Before Nightfall" is not a whodunnit, or even a why-dunnit. "It" -- a murder -- kind of just happened, possibly accidentally, and the question facing the characters is: what shall we do about it, now? The lead character knows he is guilty, and his desire to conceal his guilt slowly changes to a desire to confess his guilt. In this, he is like the character of Raskolnikov in Dostoevski's "Crime and Punishment". More astonishing is how his friends and family respond to his confession: they are eager to forgive and forget, to deny and bury the past. And this, in turn, creates an even worse situation for the anti-hero.

1971 was dark moment, politically and culturally. Many films of that year feel like they are suffering from a hangover from the 60s: the time of exuberant exploration and new possibilities has passed, and in its place is a cosmic-scale exhaustion and hopelessness. You see this kind of industrial-strength bleakness in US films like "Five Easy Pieces", "Carnal Knowledge", "Two-Lane Blacktop". If you enjoy 70s bleakness, or, you are interested in guilt and forgiveness, or, you want to watch a director go after his message with an intensely single-minded focus -- then "Just Before Nightfall" is well worth your time.

This is one of the few satisfying movies Chabrol made in his long career. Here he has a convincing story that does not require complicated plot zig-zags. It is a simple story of adultery leading to death and the cover-up that follows. The acting is almost all fine--Francois Perier as the widower who expresses little sorrow for his dead wife is especially convincing; he's really acting, not just shrugging his way through a scene. Michel Bouquet has to make his guilt-ridden character (could have been created by Dostoievsky) interesting and sympathetic and mostly he does.

Couldn't this be issued on DVD?

This is the most morally exquisite of Chabrol's many explorations of the human condition. Guilt, forgiveness, revenge coexist and mutually triumph. Many of us assume these three moral stances are mutually incompatible. Chabrol balances them against each other and then fuses them together. The actors reveal their inner dilemmas with gestures more than words. Deep intentions run across surface motives. And the final gesture of this compelling film casts all that went before into another, deeper level. Of course, no deed is as simple as it seems. But few appreciate as Chabrol does here that our all too common morally mixed motives can continue to coexist to the grave. No evil deed is ever straightforward, but neither are the best ones.

Had Chabrol filmed this in the style of Bergman, this film would be a Criterion Classic. But filmed as a thriller, it has sadly failed to gain the audience and admiration it so richly deserves. It is a philosophical triumph!

Fascinating view of middle class degeneracy in two married couples, with the less hypocritical paying to keep the whole facade going. Masochism, murder, desire for absolution, self-sacrifice. The acting and characterisation keep surprising. Like all Chabrol films it links to others in his filmography and will benefit from more viewings.

Possibly the best film Chabrol made, along with 'La femme Infidele' and 'Le boucher'. An intense psychological study and not really a thriller this was the first Chabrol film I ever watched. At first I was left confused and disappointed, however this powerful and moving film slowly revealed it's hidden beauty with each viewing.

This film more than any other of Chabrol's has entered my consciousness, Michael Bouquet's acting is very memorable and Stephanie Audran is astonishingly beautiful. There is no hint of mawkishness or sentimentality and one is left moved and glad of so poignant a masterpiece.