There's a Term Paper waiting to be written on why it is that Georges Simenon's novels are only so-so when read but gain an extra dimension when cinematicised, if I may coin a phrase. This is the second time around for this one, Julien Duvivier did a first-rate job back in 1947/8, shooting in black and white with the great Michel Simon and a passable Viviane Romance, under the title 'Panique'. Patrice Leconte is no slouch either and he has moved on light years from 'Les Bronzes' and turned out a string of intriguing, offbeat, enchanting and excellent films, indeed, his track-record is the equal of any of the great post-war French film makers (and totally eclipses, it should go without saying the pretentious pairing of Godard and Truffaut)and with illustrious names like Jean-Pierre Melville, Alain Cornau, Claude Sautet, Bertrand Tavernier, Jean-Paul Rappeneau, and newer kids on the block in the shape of Ann Fontaine, Daniele Thompson, Agnes Jouai, Zabou, etc, that is saying something. Here he turns in a very tasty offbeat entry and finds in Michel Blanc the perfect leading man to convey at one and the same time a sense of isolation and inner strength. This is a film in which most, if not all the characters have an agenda. The lazy cop just wants to nail the sad son of a bitch who he considers perfect patsy material just because he chooses not to socialize with his neighbors. This is now a crime? Alice, the subject of Hire's open voyeurism is anxious to keep suspicion from falling where it should, her own boyfriend, but such is the quality of Sandrine Bonnaire's acting (she turns in an equally offbeat and ambiguous performance in Leconte's latest film, 'Confidences trop Intimes', currently on release)that we can't be sure that she doesn't REALLY fancy Michel Blanc's essentially colorless Hire. Hire himself is not interested in diverting suspicion from himself, as he could so easily do, as protecting Alice, with whom he has fallen in love, from both the indifference of her boyfriend (which, natch, she can't see) and the repercussions should he (Hire) talk to the gendarmes. The only jarring note in fact is the aggravating Michal Nyman grating sounds that pass for music in his circle of pseuds. Pity I couldn't rewrite that to read Jarre-ing notes, had Leconte had the good taste to hire Maurice Jarre, or indeed, ANYONE bona fide musician. That cavil to one side this remains an absorbing film, not perhaps quite eclipsing 'Panique' but certainly fit to stand beside it. 8/10
