| Melville, Le Samouraï and
Tradecraft
August 2007
While Le Samouraï (Melville, 1967) presents numerous
examples of tradecraft this essay will expose a selection to demonstrate
how male professionalism is represented in Jean-Pierre Melville’s
works. The title of the film itself presses critics of the auteur’s
works to examine the cultural suggestion of honour and of code,
and of the warrior and his profession. To fail to do so neglects
to emphasise a substantial element of what the director seeks to
achieve.
Investigating character interaction
with, and conscious awareness of the environment will show its critical
role within the film. This embodies the physical tradecraft, clarifying
the outward talents of Melville’s characters. The application
of tools will show a professional and direct attitude to respective
careers. Analysing aspects of their psychological makeup will provide
understandings in discipline, situational awareness and intuition
linking directly to the Japanese philosophical underpinnings of
the film. Additionally, business dealings will raise issues of interpersonal
relationships and trust. Demonstrating how these themes resonate
throughout Melville’s films will serve to reinforce his auteur
status.
Melville’s films follow characters
who must consciously consider their physical environments for both
physical survival and professional success. The simplest of movements
qualifies this in Jef’s making his way up the centre of stairwells.
While most people will ascend and descend on either side with the
railing, he takes the centre of wooden stairs, which, subject to
less wear, generates less creaking for covert movement.
Jef jumps out a doorway at the last
moment, giving the least possible reaction time to any possible
tail. The young brunette re-establishes the tail yet has an uncomfortable
disposition. This points to her being new to the job, and appreciating
the skills of her suspect. She is outsmarted for not being practical
enough as it is difficult to run with a bag, while wearing high-heeled
boots – conversely she needs these as an effective cover.
Jef takes advantage of this on the mobile walkway, escaping his
pursuers.
In Le Cercle rouge (Melville,
1972) Vogel takes off his clothes to cross the river in escape and
evasion of the Police. This upsets the scenes of the dogs, while
if the officers crossed rapidly he knows they would be weighed down
and uncomfortable from the wet.
Bob le Flambeur (1955) finds
the characters preforming a reconnaissance of their target area
and producing a tactical map. This is about precision, accuracy
and daring. Planning, organization and practice drills are also
present in Le Doulos (Melville, 1962). This, in regards
team dynamics, amounts to evaluating risk and the balance of success
and failure. Likewise in Le Cercle rouge covert surveillance
is carried out on the jewellery assessing cameras, alarms and electric
locks. L’Armée des ombres (Melville, 1969)
finds a complex and well planned infiltration of the Gestapo HQ
being pulled off, even though the team’s allies remain in
captivity. It is these physical skills of the trade that are used
to negotiate these environmental challenges.
Basic skills such as choosing a ubiquitous
model of car in the Citroen, discarding the handgun and gloves into
the river after the Martey hit, and covert observation techniques
which define Jef’s tradecraft in Le Samouraï.
As he negotiates his environment his developed sense of awareness
allows him to carry out his tasks using these physical skills without
compromising himself or the job. Self-discipline goes to extremes,
such as minimalist verbal conversation. This reduces emotional sentiment
and reinforces professional focus while reducing tactical vulnerability
to surveillance. Bingham reinforces these collective concepts:
“Performance is valued
when it refers to the proving of one’s potential through
action, […] Performance, as it pertains to athletics, cars,
military campaigns, and sex, secures a positive meaning for man
because it involves the testing and demonstration of his abilities.”
(1994: 219)
A combination of colours of trousers
and trench coat is deliberately chosen for the urban environment.
Outside, the trench coat matches the non-descript street walls of
Jef’s surroundings, while the trousers match the grey pavement
and steps. As camouflage this is “armour” in the sense
it protects him from observation, thus harm.
Jef wears his watch on the underside
of his wrist. This harks to military practice where a soldier does
so to prevent reflection off the face. It enables the holding of
a rifle fore-stock or reading of a map without needing to turn the
wrist to see the watch face.Jef displays patience and concentration
to find the right key to start his stolen cars. This is emphasised
in what Colin McArthur refers to as a “cinema of process”.
A method “honouring the integrity of actions by allowing
them to happen in a way significantly closer to ‘real’
time.” (2000: 191) The Police surveillance team entering
Jef’s apartment uses the same method.
It can be argued that the bird is
a tool, not a pet, though it is a living being which can be protected
and nurtured without emotional conflict. It acts as an “alarm
system” and, as birds were used in World War One, a way to
detect for harmful gases. Such notions of application are odd to
everyday people, yet accepted as normal for operators such as Jef.
The Police chief is not convinced Jef
is innocent. His alibi is too good and suggests torture to his fellow
officer. A way of gaining the truth, which contravenes the code
of conduct for Police, yet will get results. Of this Vincendeau
says of L’Armée des ombres there is a “blurred
and often corrupt moral universe in which both sides echo each other.”
(2003: 85) This finds significance in Le Samouraï
also.
The scene on the overbridge epitomises
skill-at-arms in which the two hitmen show awareness of each other,
never loosing eye contact, until the exchange of shots and ensuing
hand-to-hand combat, which is technically competent. There is no
hesitation, and deeming the lethality neither party resists the
temptation for a quick exit. Later when these two meet again, Jef
ties up the blonde hitman in tradecraft ways utilising pressure
position squatting, strangulation, which is undignified yet highly
effective.
Similarly in L’Armée
des ombres Gerbier preforms the daring sentry takedown with
the soldier’s own knife. This is done without hesitation and
is likewise uncomplicated and efficient.
While Jef should not have dropped rubbish resulting from his wound
treatment but taken it away from the site, this denotes a sign he
is distressed. But contrary to this he may have wanted those who
are surveying him to know he was wounded. More likely this is a
counter-surveillance tool. If he sees it having been picked up later,
it is a good indicator he is being watched. In this way, even rudimentary
objects become tools of the trade permitting the success of specific
tasks. This suggests that for the operator, hitman or Police officer,
nothing is about aesthetics unless it fulfils a practical purpose.
Vogel, in Le Cercle rouge,
despite discomfort personal discipline he forces himself to rest.
Soon, slow meticulous efforts gain him freedom from the handcuffs
– an attribute of physical deftness. Everything is done in
stages to avoid detection. Likewise Simon in Un Flic (Melville,
1972) has to deal with a door lock on the train. Here, a combination
of technical skill, precision and patience despite being vulnerable,
permits him to succeed in entering the room and retrieving the briefcase.
With the magnet he provided an effective practical solution to a
complex problem.
In Le Cercle rouge the discipline
of silence is expectantly used during covert entry to get the jewels,
while the ironic use of the diamond cutter, a tool of the trade,
allows for the silent opening of a window. Acquiring a safe from
ex-employee allows the crew in Bob le Flambeur to make
dummy practice runs before going into action.
While there are issues of concentration
and self-discipline evident in issues of the physical skills there
are also hard cognitive processes with which the characters must
deal, and master.
There is a deep psychological aspect critical to both the aesthetic
and practices of the criminal mind upon which Melville’s works
are critical. This helps understand the deeper meanings in films
beyond the mere physical dimensions of mise-en-scène, plot
and characters as plot devices.
The first example merges the title of Le Samouraï
with the atmosphere as Jef smokes. Clouds suggest Mount Fuji, Japan’s
highest peak and sacred to the Japanese. A parallel to the mist
on this famous mountain presents a calming effect, while, moments
later the shaky camera work produces the opposition force, a clever
display of the psychological issues at play regarding professionalism
and inner turmoil for Jef, while sparseness provides clarity.
The Hagakure can further extrapolate
this, in William Scott Wilson’s translation of Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s
works:
“In assessing the enemy’s
castle there is a saying that goes, “Smoke and mist are
like looking at a spring mountain. After the rain is like viewing
a clear day.” There is weakness in perfect clarity.”
(2002: 161)
This alludes to the needs of the professional
assassin to find clarity, yet there is the eternal conflict, which
prohibits this through the unpredictable and complex nature of the
terrain in which Jef works. Though, if everything were predicable
and straightforward, he would soon become lax, inefficient, and
become a casualty. For the Police chief who says, “I never
think”, this is about emotional detachment, a capability to
put other things out of the mind, to work with evidence not conjecture.
Time with the gamblers, for Jef, can
in this context be seen as a tea ceremony. O’Neill comments
on this ancient Japanese practice:
“Powerful warlords began
[…] adopting the tea ceremony as a badge of refinement.
The meditative act of making and drinking tea in a small space
– one where sword wearing, even by samurai, was forbidden.”
(2006: 120)
There is a sense of calm amongst the
storm of life, a peace, which allows a warrior to do his duty as
required when the time comes. And when he leaves, Jef says: “I
never lose. Not really.” This relates to his outlook, a professional
confidence expressed verbally as he leaves the gamblers den. Yet
in the same breath he signifies that no one is infallible.
Jane backs Jef up when she is integrated
by the Police. This is psychological, and Jef taking advantage of
the emotional connection Jane desires and he rejects, but for his
professional needs. Later the chief uses passive aggressive coercion
and blackmail. “I have a daughter…” And the good
cop, bad cop routine is played out unsuccessfully against Jane.
Alexandre Astruc notion of auteur theory
called to “use cinema to reveal the workings of human
consciousness.” (Prince 2001: 346) Through a connection
of the psychological roots of ritual and male professionalism a
better understanding of the auteur’s work can be achieved.
Le Samouraï finds Jef
having a sense of his space having been invaded after the Police
have entered his apartment. Experience pays off and is reinforced
by the disturbed bird. He thereby finds the transmitter and leaves
it as a calling card if his unknown surveyors return. The psychological
game is, he wants them to know he’s aware. This is an example
of the mental stresses of “cat and mouse” played out
in such occupations.
Much later, at the Pianist’s
apartment, Jef has to know who hated Martey so much to have him
killed. As a plot device this works well for the complexity of the
Pianist character but also on several levels regarding tradecraft.
There are the repeated psychological aspects of “cat and mouse”
and also the professional sentiments of working within an honour
system. Here it is made most evident that Jef must kill to make
a living, but also to survive physically. The Pianist wears a Kimono,
historical Japanese dress, a visual marker to these issues confronting
Jef.
In Le Cercle rouge Corey throws
a picture of his former woman in the bin signifying emotional detachment.
A requirement to move on and concentrate on the job at hand, there
is no concern for the past, only the present. Additionally, in an
act of mutual professional respect the cop comments on the hunter’s
instincts of his foe “For once the prey is intelligent.”
The drunken former cop Jansen is honest
about his skills and condition while he goes about the business
professionally, sighting in the rifle for the mission ahead. This
assists in his getting his head right for the job. Vincendeau elaborates
on how he “casts special bullets with scientific precision”
(2003: 196) Later, the marksman forgets the tripod and snap shoots
the lock. This defines rapid intuitive shooting, skill and confidence
of a genuine marksman.
Success in the gangster film often
equates to financial gain. Interpersonal skills and relationships,
knowledge of how the mind and different personalities operate, are
critical to the work of the criminal as much as their law enforcement
counterpart. For the professional criminal this includes business
dealings.
The money Jef takes from the blonde
hitman regards paying for the previous contract and initiating a
new one has particular significance in relation to Le Samouraï
and the conducting of business.
“History first takes notice
of the samurai in the tenth century, placing them as guards at
the imperial court in Kyoto and as members of private militias
employed by provincial lords. ” (O’Neill 2006:
108)
O’Neill quotes historian Karl
Friday:
“The first samurai were mercenaries,
privately trained and privately equipped.”
In Le Cercle rouge patience
is required, that of staggered payment to reduce detection of large
sums of money. This is going through established networks and is
essential to elements of trust and issues of calculated risk. This
constitutes decision-making.
In the finale, Jef is killed in an
ambush laid by the Police. Moments before this, the Pianist, his
second hit, asks why. He replies: “I was paid to.” This
shows commitment and professional dedication to the job. There is
honour and respect in saying you will do what you say you will.
In his death it is revealed his revolver was unloaded. He was prepared
to die, yet not to kill the girl. This decision prescribes to the
Samurai code of honour at the centre of Jef’s life. “A
samurai who is not prepared to die at any moment will inevitably
die an unbecoming death.” (O’Neill 2006: 129)
Reading remarks of Melville’s
film: “Le Samourai (1967), a masterpiece of late-period
film noir which has influenced just about anybody who has attempted
the genre ever since.” (2006: 203)
In the study of auteurship homage of
the auteur is no more apparent than in Ghost Dog: Way of the
Samurai (Jarmusch, 1999) in regards the changing of plates
on Jef’s stolen cars, birds as nurturing agents, and the dramatic
finale, both Melville’s character and that of Ghost Dog find
inevitable death in deliberate action, that of their respective
handguns being left unloaded.
Through critiquing elements of physical
and psychological tradecraft, the male professionalism of Melville’s
characters have been presented. Investigating the deeper notions
of warrior culture signified throughout Le Samouraï benefits
from a better understanding of the text. Bonding these common themes
across Melville’s works has permitted a greater appreciation
of film content, while clarifying this director as an auteur.
By Leon T. Harrison for FILM 238, Victoria
University, Wellington
Bibliography
Bingham, D. (1994) Acting Male
New Jersey: Rutgers University Press
McArthur, C. (2000) ‘Mise-en-Scène
Degree Zero: Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï (1967)’,
French Film: Texts and Contexts, Hayward, S & Vincendeau,
G (eds.) New York: Routledge pp. 189-201
O’Neill, T. (2006) “The
Samurai Way”, National Geographic, No. 6, pp. 98-131
Prince, S. (2001) Movies and Meaning:
An Introduction to Film (2nd ed.) Boston: Allyn and Bacon
Reading, M. (2006) The Movie Companion
London: Robinson
Vincendeau, G. (2003) Jean-Pierre
Melville: An American in Paris London: BFI Publishing pp. 82-92
Wilson, W.S. (trans.) (2002) Hagakure:
The Book of the Samurai New York: Kodansha International
Films
Melville, J. (1967) Le Samouraï
Criterion Collection
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