THE limited possibilities of making drama out of attempted prison breaks have been worked so often and so astutely in the congenial medium of films that it is amazing to find the subject handled again with genuine tension and even some originality. Yet that is what the late Jacques Becker had done in his last French film, "The Night Watch".
Exercising the greatest economy of situation and character, which is to say that he has fetched his whole drama from five men in a Santé Prison cell, he has worked up a "big house" cliff-hanger that throbs with excitement and suspense and, at the same time, offers some stabbing insights into the anxieties and energies of imprisoned men.
His story, derived from a novel by José Giovanni entitled "Le Trou" ("The Hole"), which in turn was based upon an actual attempted escape from the famous Paris jail, is simply that of the daring, tedious labors through which his five prisoners go in hacking and sawing and digging a complicated escape route out of their common cell.
It is a standard dramatic sequence of familiar prison-escape incidents, such as the first uncertain maneuver of chopping a way through the concrete cell floor, then finding a way out of the chamber into which they unwittingly drop, and then on through the dark and twisting passages of underground corridors and sewers. All the perilous digging and exploring are done at night, with the men idling by day in their cell.
But Mr. Becker and those who worked with him have done such a studied, skillful job of documenting the details of this sequence with such brilliant photographic exactitude that the viewer is quickly pulled into the adventure and made to feel a very participant in it.
For instance, the task of hacking through the concrete floor is not a passing effort that is told with a quick few shots and a few dissolves. It is made a tremendous labor of many minutes (that seem endless hours) of hacking and scooping out debris while one of the men watches for the guards and all exhaust themselves completely before the hole is broken through.
Mr. Becker has used the technique of close-ups to great effect. Iron doors and locks picked out in the darkness by the flickering light of a cellmade candle loom large. Faces and hands laboring diligently are expressive of massive toil in the close view. So immediate is the contact of the audience with the job that one can often expect his own forehead to break out in a hot or cold sweat.
The actors, none of whom are familiar, play their roles with such simple, natural force that they become not only bold adventurers but also deeply appreciable friends. Jean Keraudy and Philippe Leroy are the intrepid leaders of the group. Raymond Meunier and Michael Constantin are the gangsters and clowns. And Mark Michel is the young fellow who has the toughest time of establishing himself with his cellmates and has to bear the brunt of an ironic plot-twist at the end. Minor roles of guards and wardens are played convincingly.
This is obviously the sort of melodrama that will never be confused with the works of the French New Wave, but it should engross those who like straight torment.
The English subtitles are good.
Exercising the greatest economy of situation and character, which is to say that he has fetched his whole drama from five men in a Santé Prison cell, he has worked up a "big house" cliff-hanger that throbs with excitement and suspense and, at the same time, offers some stabbing insights into the anxieties and energies of imprisoned men.
His story, derived from a novel by José Giovanni entitled "Le Trou" ("The Hole"), which in turn was based upon an actual attempted escape from the famous Paris jail, is simply that of the daring, tedious labors through which his five prisoners go in hacking and sawing and digging a complicated escape route out of their common cell.
It is a standard dramatic sequence of familiar prison-escape incidents, such as the first uncertain maneuver of chopping a way through the concrete cell floor, then finding a way out of the chamber into which they unwittingly drop, and then on through the dark and twisting passages of underground corridors and sewers. All the perilous digging and exploring are done at night, with the men idling by day in their cell.
But Mr. Becker and those who worked with him have done such a studied, skillful job of documenting the details of this sequence with such brilliant photographic exactitude that the viewer is quickly pulled into the adventure and made to feel a very participant in it.
For instance, the task of hacking through the concrete floor is not a passing effort that is told with a quick few shots and a few dissolves. It is made a tremendous labor of many minutes (that seem endless hours) of hacking and scooping out debris while one of the men watches for the guards and all exhaust themselves completely before the hole is broken through.
Mr. Becker has used the technique of close-ups to great effect. Iron doors and locks picked out in the darkness by the flickering light of a cellmade candle loom large. Faces and hands laboring diligently are expressive of massive toil in the close view. So immediate is the contact of the audience with the job that one can often expect his own forehead to break out in a hot or cold sweat.
The actors, none of whom are familiar, play their roles with such simple, natural force that they become not only bold adventurers but also deeply appreciable friends. Jean Keraudy and Philippe Leroy are the intrepid leaders of the group. Raymond Meunier and Michael Constantin are the gangsters and clowns. And Mark Michel is the young fellow who has the toughest time of establishing himself with his cellmates and has to bear the brunt of an ironic plot-twist at the end. Minor roles of guards and wardens are played convincingly.
This is obviously the sort of melodrama that will never be confused with the works of the French New Wave, but it should engross those who like straight torment.
The English subtitles are good.