Courtroom drama dissects defiance of French far-left activist

2023 France/2024 US/1h 56m

The Goldman Case” functions as a tense, often-tumultuous courtroom drama, which is based on a true story. At the same time, the film delves into a turbulent period of modern French history – the late 1960s and 1970s – grappling with political, cultural and social-justice issues as it renders an even-handed portrait of an intellectual/self-described revolutionary/criminal agitator.

That agitator is French far-left activist Pierre Goldman (Arieh Worthalter). His parents (both Polish) were members of a branch of the French Resistance in WW2; after the war, his mother returned to Poland and Pierre was raised primarily by his father in France. At 19, Pierre became a communist and over the next several years spent time in Cuba and Venezuela, where he was involved with guerrilleros. He was part of the Royal Bank of Canada robbery in Venezuela in 1969, but was not identified and returned to Paris.

He continued his criminal activities and was given a life sentence in 1974 after being convicted of a robbery in which two pharmacists were killed. He denied having committed that robbery (although he’d admitted to three other, earlier robberies and had received a 12-year jail sentence).

While in prison, he wrote a book about his case, “Souvenirs obscurs d’un juif polonais né en France (“Obscure Memories of a Polish Jew Born in France,” 1975), which caught the attention of Simone Signoret, Jean-Paul Sartre and others, and Goldman became a cause célèbre.

Because of the publicity and emerging questions about the police work, Goldman is granted a retrial. In the courtroom, Goldman frequently disregards protocol and speaks out of turn – arguing his cause, criticizing the proceedings (angrily explaining, for example, why he sees character references as pointless) and asserting racism by the police. His outbursts spur cheers from his many supporters in attendance. Though the judges don’t sanction him (no “order in the court!”), his seeming bent on self-destruction frustrates his defense team.

As various witnesses testify and we learn more about Goldman, his family, his relationships and his mental health, we’re unsure from minute to minute as to his innocence or guilt regarding the murder charges. The rousing speeches from passionate lawyers on both sides and the sometimes-arcane idiosyncrasies of French legal proceedings add to the tension. Confining most of the action to the gloomy, harshly lit courtroom creates a pervasive sense of claustrophobia.

Ably directed by Cédric Kahn (he wrote the screenplay with Nathalie Hertzberg), the acting is solid throughout and it’s hard to take your eyes off Worthalter, who fully inhabits the fiery, ferocious Goldman and brings to life a character and a case that remain fascinating and disturbing long after the film ends.

“The Goldman Case” opened Sept. 13 in Los Angeles and is playing in select theaters nationwide.

‘Diabolique’ is all surprise, all mystery, one twist after another

‘Diabolique’/1955/Cinédis/114 min.

Michael Wilmington

By Michael Wilmington

The worst kind of fictional horror, the kind that seeps into your psyche and stings into life your worst fears, sometimes springs from the seemingly mundane routines of life, when the placid world we know suddenly becomes a backdrop for darkness and evil.

In French filmmaker Henri-Georges Clouzot’s masterpiece of suspense, “Diabolique,” a school near Paris turns into the site for a cold-blooded murder and a den of everyday nightmares. “Diabolique,” called “Les Diaboliques,“ (“The Devils”) in France, is a movie about the mystery and terror of appearances, and the ways that they can ensnare us, drive us mad or destroy us.

If there was ever a movie review that needed a “Spoiler Alert” it’s “Diabolique,” a film that doesn’t have one surprise up its sleeve, but many. It’s all surprise, all mystery, one twist after the other, going off like firecrackers until the end of the film.

Vera Clouzot

Simone Signoret

“Diabolique” takes place in a boarding school, an ugly, sprawling ex-chateau run by a ferret-faced brute of a headmaster, Michel Delassalle (Paul Meurisse) and his weak, ill and persecuted wife Christina (Vera Clouzot). Delassalle viciously exploits and abuses his wife, and is openly unfaithful to her, with the school’s science and math teacher, a sultry, smart blonde named Nicole Horner (Simone Signoret, in one of her most famous roles).

Headmaster Delassalle is an awful man and the school is an awful but believable place, with bleak dormitory rooms, rotten food, dark hallways, and a dirty swimming pool in which something terrible, we feel, will happen. Or maybe not.

In the first of the movie’s string of shocks, we discover that Christina and Nicole, wife and mistress, have formed an unholy alliance. Both seemingly disgusted by the swinish Michel, they are plotting to kill him and disguise it as an accident.

And Michel is such a cad and sadist – a brilliant performance by Meurisse, who was later just as fine for both Jean Renoir (“Picnic on the Grass”) and Jean-Pierre Melville (“Le Cercle Rouge”) – that we don’t condemn the women. Another brilliant actor of astounding longevity, Charles Vanel, plays superlatively well the retired detective Fichet, who starts sniffing around when he runs into Christina at the morgue.

The man who made this astonishing and frightening movie, writer-director Clouzot, seemed to be many things himself: a cynic and a sometime sadist to his actors (especially his own wife, Vera), a friend/collaborator of artistic greats like Pablo Picasso, a WW2 opportunist who worked for a company run by the occupying Germans, and, above all, a genius at making movies that tightened the vise of anxiety like a noose around the audiences’ throats.

Clouzot was, in fact, the only specialist in suspense who was ever plausibly bracketed with Alfred Hitchcock – and Hitchcock was one of “Diabolique” ’s biggest admirers. The wry British master of movie fear wanted to buy the novel, “Celle qui n’etait plus,” by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, on which “Diabolique” was based.

When “Diabolique” became an international hit, Hitchcock bought another Boileau-Narcejac novel, and turned it into his masterpiece “Vertigo.” Hitch then acquired a Robert Bloch novel called “Psycho” and essentially made it his own “Diabolique,” shooting in black and white, playing up similar scenes and themes (including the idea of murder in a bathroom), borrowing liberally from the earlier movie’s style and execution, even reworking some of its advertising gimmicks. [Read more…]