"Le Rouge est Mis" has so much going for it: a top-notch cast, an excellent but under-rated director and two top writers, Michel Audiard and Auguste ("Rififi") Le Breton. It's an adaptation of the latter's novel, and he knew the underworld, which he wrote about almost exclusively, having been involved in it before WW2. His real surname was Monfort, but having adopted Le Breton as a nom de plume it's no surprise that he peppered his tales with similar nicknames, most notable being "Bob le Flambeur", filmed by J.-P. Melville. Here Gabin is Le Blond, Ventura is Le Gitan, and we also get Le Matelot and L'Americain. Presumably it's common in that milieu.
This film is undeniably gripping, but certain aspects prevent it from being satisfying. There was some lazy stereotyping: the gypsy is ultra-violent, a homosexual is portrayed as a mincing caricature and Annie Girardot's character, a manicurist who wants more from life, is dismissed by Le Blond as a "slag." There are also holes in the plot. Paul Frankeur (so good in Grangier's "Reproduction Interdite") plays a man whose inside knowledge facilitates the gang's heists: why is he taken along on the jobs when he doesn't play any part, apart from being a bag of nerves? Why is Gabin (53 and looking older) still living with his old mum? Why, when Ventura is sure Gabin's brother (Bozzuffi) has betrayed the gang to the police, doesn't Gabin just tell him who the real traitor is? The cynical answer is "Because then there'd be no final shoot-out." And finally, when Gabin falls outside Girardot's apartment block does he somehow crash onto the next landing rather than plummeting several storeys down the stairwell ? None of this made any sense.
My main objection, though, is to the way Le Breton, like Jose Giovanni, perpetuates the myth of the honourable gangster. That's how Le Blond is portrayed, yet apart from the obligatory anger scene (was one in Gabin's contract for each film?) he remains impassive. Even when Ventura kills three and wounds two in the final robbery Gabin doesn't bat an eyelid. Like all criminals Le Blond is amoral and a parasite, so why should an audience care if he lives or dies? The French have an unhealthy interest is such sordid types.
Review of Speaking of Murder
