Elevator to the Gallows - The Atlanta Journal-Constitution movie review

'Elevator to the Gallows': A cutting-edge classic

By STEVE MURRAY
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

It's the first thing we see: Her face swims out of the darkness, voluptuous as a lily, as she whispers into the phone, "I'm the one who can't take it any more — I love you, I love you."

Rialto Pictures

'Elevator to the Gallows'

B+

The verdict: A striking blend of American film noir and the emerging French new wave.

Director: Louis Malle
Starring: Jeanne Moreau, Maurice Ronet, Georges Poujouly, Yori Bertin, Jean Wall, Elga Andersen
Run time: 88 minutes
Release date: June 24, 2005 (restored print of the 1957 original)
Rating: Not rated. In French with English subtitles.
Theater: Landmark's Midtown Art.

The actress is a young Jeanne Moreau. But before we learn her character's name, or who's on the other end of the line, Miles Davis' famous jazz score kicks in. "Elevator to the Gallows" then unfolds like a rain-drenched shotgun marriage between American film noir and the French new wave — a movement that wouldn't be firmly established for two more years, with the arrival of the cool, amoral chic of 1960's "Breathless."

Moreau plays Florence, trophy wife of a rich, older arms dealer named Carala (Jean Wall). She's also the secret lover of Carala's employee Julien (Maurice Ronet), a former wartime paratrooper who now does his boss' thug work. Julien is on the other end of the phone conversation that kicks off both the movie and a bloody plan devised by the cheating couple.

The film — the first feature from director Louis Malle — lets us discover their plot in-progress. It involves a rope, a gun, a faked suicide and, yes, a stalled elevator that Julien finds himself trapped inside after-hours at his office building. If he's found there the next morning, he'll be in trouble deeper than the elevator shaft.

Meanwhile, a young car thief named Louis (Georges Poujouly) and his flower-shop girlfriend Veronique (Yori Bertin) steal Julien's convertible from the curb outside and take a joyride that causes some identity confusion and ends with the two irrevocably tied to Florence and Julien.

The movie builds a fascinating parallel between two wayward couples, one younger, one older, both in big trouble. But to be honest, as it ticks along toward a hardboiled denouement, the plot doesn't bear too much scrutiny.

The movie's chief pleasures are visual (the on-location, black-and-white shots of Paris at night) and aural (Davis playing lead trumpet on the soundtrack).

"Elevator" is being re-released with a new 35mm print, as well as new subtitles and translation of the dialogue.

The movie's most compelling element of all is Moreau, wandering the nighttime streets trying to find her lover. It's as if she's blown from one cafe to the next on a blended wind of passion, dread and the lonely trumpet wail.

At the film's end, in a reversed echo of the opening, Florence's face swims away, retreating into darkness. It's the last thing we see.