May 31, 2019
Remorques
(Stormy Waters) – France, 1941
By the time of the release of Jean
Gremillon’s Remorques, France had been
under German occupation for about a year. When a film is made under such
conditions, there can be a tendency to look at it and search for hidden
messages or for characters that seem like stand-ins for real and much more
controversial figures. However, to do this with Remorques would be a mistake. At the very least, it would be to see
the film for what it isn’t rather than what it is, and what it is not is a
social yarn in which an villainous force is wrecking havoc upon a powerless or
manipulated public. In fact, it is difficult to say for sure what kind of film Remorques actually is. It begins with
scenes that resemble those more commonly attributed to an action film, pivots
toward one about a man in search of justice, and then veers into classic
melodrama. In other words, there’s ample opportunity for the film to veer off
course, and the fact that it doesn’t, I suspect, has a lot to do with the
storytelling ability of its director, as well as the star power of its lead
actor, Jean Gabin.
The film takes place in a seaside part of
France, where Captain Andre Laurent (Gabin) commands a rescue ship known as the
Cyclone. It’s the kind of job that demands that he always be on call, even on
the day of a crew member’s wedding. From there, we get an action packed scene,
filled with shots of sweaty shipmates working feverishly in steam filled
compartments, as the sea rages all around them. It is as if Neptune himself
were standing there willing the full force of the ocean onto the hopelessly overmatched
vessel. And yet, it indeed survives, making its way to a damaged ship whose
captain is surprisingly less than grateful to see them.
Before I go on, I’d be remiss if I didn’t
mention the importance of the wedding scene that opens the film and whose
participants the film frequently cuts back to. Often, in films whose leads
characters do dangerous jobs – be they fly fishermen, soldiers, or police
officers – wives are portrayed as being the rocks that hold their husbands up,
their support and courage utterly unwavering. Remorques begins this way, yet very quickly, we begin to see
another side of the sailors’ wives. These are traumatized women, emotionally
spent after so many nights spent waiting for their husbands to return alive,
and while they may want to play the role that society expects of them, there
comes a time when they simply can’t anymore, at least not in the same way as
they used to.
Also, during that opening scene, a crew
member offers a toast that includes the observation that a seaman has two
loves. This is spoken of as if it were an everyday truth, yet throughout the
film it is this dual loyalty that is at the heart of so much of the drama that
transpires, pitting crew against family and blinding men to the depths of the emotions
underlying their wives’ words. In a way, the film is less about rescues or
ungrateful captains who need to be rescued than it is about what happens when
what two people need in order to carry on are no longer identical.
The film’s primary drama comes after the
Cyclone is dispatched to rescue a ship captioned by a man who makes the
rescuers waits simply because the help didn’t arrive quick enough. On board the
stranded ship are a crew of nearly mutinous sailors – and for good reason – and
the captain’s bitter wife, Catherine (Michele Morgan), who can’t wait for an
opportunity to get as far away from her selfish husband as she can. The extent
of her loathing of him can be seen in her willingness to get into a raft in the
middle of a ferocious storm and take her chances at survival. Catherine
eventually plays a big role in the film.
Around the same time, Andre’s wife, Yvonne
(Madeline Renaud), finally makes her unhappiness known and in a pivital scene,
pleads with her husband to give up his life on the sea. Left unsaid is the physical
toll his job is taking on her, and the film is intentionally ambivalent about
the source of her health problems. Yvonne’s scenes with Andre are the kind that
stay with you long after the film ends, for they are an array of conflicted feelings
and steadfast expressions of loyalty, sometimes to more than one thing. There’s
a sense that this is the last hurrah for the two of them, the last chance to
rekindle the sparks of love that have begun to flicker and to steady the mind
that has steadily begun to wander. And all the while, the sea, that inconsistent
entity that has no qualms about disrupting critical moments or postponing vital
exchanges, is out there, its winds picking up, its mythical sirens sounding
their resolve-bending voices.
Remorques is a fascinating film, with moving characters in relatable
situations. It is anchored by great performances and helmed by a director who
trusts his actors to make their own memorable moments. His direction is minimal
during critical conversations, yet he captures side glances, eye movements, and
subtle gestures that tell more than any long-winded speech could. Later, in the
film, Gremillon focuses on a character whose has just realized that she has lost
in the game of love, and instead of beginning one of those standard tear-filled
expressions of remorse, she simply summons the strength to ask for her bags to
be packed. Nothing else needs to be said, and what follows is a one of those
perfect cinematic partings, one in which the character speaks of what she’ll
never have again in a such a way that we all understand the depths of her
sacrifice. It really is a quite a moment. In truth, Remorques is a film filled with so many of them. Sure, the film has
a predictle third act, but up until that point, it is absolutely spellbinding,
and I’m grateful for the opportunity to discover it. (on DVD as part of Eclipse’s
Series 34: Jean Gremillon During the
Occupation)
3 and a half stars
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