“A Story of Women” (1988)
Isabelle Huppert and Chabrol had quite a working relationship, and this film is really the apex of their collaboration. Huppert plays Marie, a mother of two during World War II, who turns to performing abortions in order to earn money and support her family. Based on a true story, “A Story of Women” is about the difficulties of being a woman, and especially a mother, in a man’s world. Chabrol deftly handles the historical drama genre and never turns Marie’s story into a black-and-white case of right and wrong. Her character may be cold and greedy, but it’s made clear she doesn’t deserve her ultimate fate and while we admire her for her love of life, we also despise her for taking advantage of a loving husband. It’s probably Huppert’s best role with Chabrol as she’s playing perfectly to her type and really holds the sometimes melodramatic story together; she fully deserved the award for Best Actress at the Venice Film Festival that she ultimately won. And if Chabrol feels a little uncomfortable with the strains of making a more realistic film than his New Wave roots might urge, he makes up for it with beautiful shots of poverty-ridden small town life in France. [A-]
“Madame Bovary” (1991)
Chabrol got all the elements of the adaptation of Gustave Flaubert’s “Madame Bovary” right, except for one thing — he forgot to find an actress who could play the Emma Bovary found in the novel. If you haven’t read the book, you might appreciate Isabelle Huppert’s performance, but she’s completely too serious and harsh to play the incredibly silly and naive Emma. This film is a great example of a director using his favorite actor even when they might not be the best person for the role. If only the acting — and that includes the predominantly male supporting cast including Jean-Francoise Balmer as Dr. Bovary — weren’t so atrocious, then we could focus on Chabrol’s perfect recreation of 19th century France. Emma accumulates ferocious debts after marrying a small town doctor, and Chabrol goes all-out with the costumes and set design. Every piece drips with splendor, and juxtaposed against the mediocre streets of a town on the outskirts of France, Emma’s eventual downfall from overspending is foreshadowed in every shot. But “Madame Bovary” may be about an unsatisfied woman, which was one of Chabrol’s specialties as he got older, however no amount of beautiful cinematography and art design can save the blatant miscasting of Huppert. [C-]
“Betty” (1992)
Perhaps Chabrol‘s most nihilistic effort and most depressive statement on human nature, 1993’s “Betty” is a study in not just a character’s self-destructive tendencies, but her wanton desire for self-immolation. Featuring an engrossing turn by Marie Trintignant (daughter of Jean-Louis Trintignant) as the broken-down titular lead, Betty is an annihilative, young alcoholic seemingly hellbent on drinking herself into oblivion. At a nightclub she is rescued from seedy admirers by Laure (Stéphane Audran), a sympathetic fellow alcoholic who recognizes another lost soul and decides to take her in after hearing her stories of victimhood at the hands of ruthless high society. The film then circuitously fills in the blanks of Betty’s backstory as Laure tries to bring her back to at least a functioning state of alcoholism. The truth is Betty is her own worst enemy and then some. She cheats on the bourgeois husband who plucked her from poverty and introduced her to affluence, and then is faced with a grim divorce settlement, under which she must give up complete custody of their children and get paid a moderate stipend for life, or, penniless, face a bitter and merciless custody battle. Out of options, Betty settles on the only path she knows and returns to the bottle. But more disquieting is the revelation that alcoholic or not, Betty is a cancerous force who cannot help but ruin herself and those around her. With an appetite for destruction like an unquenched lust that must be sated, Betty soon sets eyes on Laure’s lover — almost because she can. Laure flees and Betty discovers that she has greedily destroyed the last person who actually gave a damn about her. Depressing and bleak, but powerful. [B]
“La Ceremonie” (1995)
Chabrol definitely moved away from his New Wave roots as he got older, and ventured into realism here (at least until the ending) with a story of two lower-class women who become friends in the country. Sophie (Sandrine Bonnaire) plays a maid working for a bunch of snotty, rich people; she befriends Jeanne (Isabelle Huppert), an eccentric, sometimes manic postal clerk. It’s here that Huppert finally breaks type, playing an erratic and crazed young woman who hates any and all authority. Bonnaire is also a real find as the dyslexic, shy girl who can’t stand up to her icy and pretentious employers (played by Jacqueline Bisset, and Jean-Pierre Cassel). They too, however, have their own concerns — they’re raising a family and are just coming off firing a maid. A polarizing, wild third act in which all hell breaks loose will divide audiences — shocking, provocative and almost deliriously violent, seemingly out of nowhere, the finale is likely seen as either the best commentary on lower class oppression in France, or the worst. Considering the sly irony of the denoument — in which you can practically see Chabrol’s sinister smile across the screen — we’d call the bold, cavalier conclusion a success at the very least. [B+]
“Merci, Pour Le Chocolat” (2000)
While Chabrol’s ‘80s and ‘90s career as a filmmaker was hit-and-miss, and often the productive filmmaker was ignored when he made an above average picture, at the ripe old age of 70, the director hit a home run at the top of the aughts with classic Chabrol-ian psychological suspense picture, “Merci, Pour Le Chocolat.” Starring well-worn muse Isabelle Huppert, famed French musician Jacques Dutronc, a young (and rather radiant) Anna Mouglais (“Coco & Igor”) and Brigitte Catillo, ‘Chocolat’ chronicled one of Chabrol’s favorite subjects: decaying family dynamics through the lens of a possible switched-at-birth scenario and a family’s deep dark secret. On her birthday, during a random lunch with her mother’s friend, Jeanne, an aspiring pianist (Mouglais), finds out that when she was born a nurse had mistakenly told prominent pianist André Polonski (Dutronc) that she was his daughter. The story and its genetic coincidence is just too juicy to ignore and so the curious Jeanne tries to track the family down. Meanwhile, this family has its own rich and complex history. “Mika” Muller (Huppert), an heiress to a Swiss chocolate factory, has just remarried André (Dutronc). During their divorce and split, André married another woman and fathered his son, Guillaume (the same boy almost switched in the hospital decades ago). After André’s wife died in a mysterious auto accident it was Mika who consoled him and helped heal his wounds. When Jeanne befriends the family through her curiosity and becomes a piano pupil, the disturbed psyche of Mika begins to uncoil, when she feels her reborn family being threatened. The film veers into thriller mode in its third act when Mika’s carefully laid plans begin to unravel, and while it might be a bit too cocoa bitter for some, there’s no denying the picture is masterfully calculated and a thoroughly entertaining ride. [B+]