In Arcachon, a small town in southern west of France, Jérôme Pessac, an unionist is killed in the factory run by Jacques Pincemaille. Did his death have a link with the strike he planned ? Or is it linked with the manager's complex private life? Only one man can solve this mystery: funnily efficient inspector Jean Lavardin.
Among the four tv movies starring the incorruptible cop, le Diable en Ville is one of the two shot by Christian de Challonge, the two other ones were directed by Claude Chabrol. If the former filmmaker isn't on a par with the director of le Boucher (1970) in the history of French cinema, it would be a mistake to ignore this episode for De Challonge made full use of the strong material he had at his disposal and his work is trimmed at all levels. One of the highlights in this miniseries was the worthy use of scenery and here, the contract is so well fullfilled that you doubly almost feel the autumnal weather and the vibe of Arcachon as if you were in town. And the tv movie marks another point by turning many common places almost into unusual ones.
Equally convincing is the story for it remains firmly anchored in the topical perimeter designed by the series. Through the codes of whodunit, a narrative progression and various twists end to a rigorous result until the very last images of the film. But its solid linearity has also room to break into pieces, provincial bourgeois respectability and to expose in the light of day, shameful facts. Le Diable en Ville isn't an exception to the rule for it unites both social satire and detective entertainment. Only Jean Lavardin could make this marriage irresistible through his unpolitically correct manners and formidable cues. My favorite sequences would be the following ones: he brings Pincemaille's car back in the manager's house and he even interferes for the latter's dinner! While his hosts eat a duck with peaches, he relishes himself with his favorite dish: eggs with paprika and he even gives advice to the maid on how to cook them. Be that as it may, his devastating humor and his search for truth make his actions legitimate.
Of all the four episodes, le Diable en Ville has the most brillant cast. Of course, it's always a pleasure to watch Jean Poiret but because the other names embellish their characters with a specific personality, they aren't easily forgotten. Bruno Cremer epitomizes a fragile force to his tormented role as an ambiguous manager. Bulle Ogier as a jaded wife was a judicious choice. Nathalie Nell distills a poisonous charm and Maria de Medeiros may have been rightly spotted by Tarantino when he made his cast for Pulp Fiction (1994).
In the end, this quality made-for-tv film is so well treated that it could probably apply for the finest episode of the series.
Among the four tv movies starring the incorruptible cop, le Diable en Ville is one of the two shot by Christian de Challonge, the two other ones were directed by Claude Chabrol. If the former filmmaker isn't on a par with the director of le Boucher (1970) in the history of French cinema, it would be a mistake to ignore this episode for De Challonge made full use of the strong material he had at his disposal and his work is trimmed at all levels. One of the highlights in this miniseries was the worthy use of scenery and here, the contract is so well fullfilled that you doubly almost feel the autumnal weather and the vibe of Arcachon as if you were in town. And the tv movie marks another point by turning many common places almost into unusual ones.
Equally convincing is the story for it remains firmly anchored in the topical perimeter designed by the series. Through the codes of whodunit, a narrative progression and various twists end to a rigorous result until the very last images of the film. But its solid linearity has also room to break into pieces, provincial bourgeois respectability and to expose in the light of day, shameful facts. Le Diable en Ville isn't an exception to the rule for it unites both social satire and detective entertainment. Only Jean Lavardin could make this marriage irresistible through his unpolitically correct manners and formidable cues. My favorite sequences would be the following ones: he brings Pincemaille's car back in the manager's house and he even interferes for the latter's dinner! While his hosts eat a duck with peaches, he relishes himself with his favorite dish: eggs with paprika and he even gives advice to the maid on how to cook them. Be that as it may, his devastating humor and his search for truth make his actions legitimate.
Of all the four episodes, le Diable en Ville has the most brillant cast. Of course, it's always a pleasure to watch Jean Poiret but because the other names embellish their characters with a specific personality, they aren't easily forgotten. Bruno Cremer epitomizes a fragile force to his tormented role as an ambiguous manager. Bulle Ogier as a jaded wife was a judicious choice. Nathalie Nell distills a poisonous charm and Maria de Medeiros may have been rightly spotted by Tarantino when he made his cast for Pulp Fiction (1994).
In the end, this quality made-for-tv film is so well treated that it could probably apply for the finest episode of the series.