by Julian Wood
Worth: $12.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Denis Podalydè, Anne Alvaro, Irene Jacob, Dominique Reymond, Manuel Guillot
Intro:
... rather plodding ...
Every country and literary tradition has a famous detective. In France (via Belgium), Georges Simenon gave birth to such an iconic literary figure in Jules Maigret. Simenon wrote over 70 novels so, like Arthus Conan Doyle in the UK, he knew how to keep a series going. He has lasted because he was able to combine high style with satisfyingly complicated plots, which alas, is something that this workmanlike adaptation seems unable to convey.
Maigret is a dogged and unflappable pursuer but not a man of action like Sherlock Homes, so there aren’t many scenes of derring-do. This can be a challenge for directors seeking to realise his cases into a gripping film without merely relying upon the affection for the lead character. In other words, it has to work as a film beyond the tropes of the pipe and the trenchcoat and the determined little man.
Director Pascal Bonitzer does in fact open with the famous pipe and, again like Holmes’ meerschaum, it is a metonym for the character. Lead actor, veteran Denis Podalydè is as reliable as the creation he plays. He has an impish quality, and he does have a bit of fun with the famous prop, lighting it or carrying it around in almost every scene.
Bonitzer is more known for his scriptwriting collaborations than his directing. He should know his way around a script but somehow the film lacks any zinger scenes. There are, as usual, a number of potential suspects who gradually are drawn into scope as the most obvious suspect becomes less certain. There are lots of scenes of Maigret and his sidekick trotting along to interview one slightly evasive character after another. We never really get much sense of the frustration that this could invoke in Maigret, or at least it is nothing that a good meal with his lovely wife (she is played by Irene Jacob after all) won’t fix.
The film is very French. One index of this is that Maigret is always either meeting in a café or cooking up a storm at home. All of which gives the film ample chance to describe the meals and the wines in detail. They all sound rather mouthwatering, but this is not a cooking show. Beyond these obvious gastronomic descriptions and some nice sly scenes where Maigret shows himself to be cleverer (inevitably) than everyone else he works with, there isn’t that much for us to hang on to. He is not Policeman Plod, but the film is rather plodding (sorry). As is so often the case, the books are better.
