Coup de TorchonThe further we drift from civilization as we know it, the more blurry our definitions of "good" and "evil" become...at least that's the idea that men like Lucien Cordier (Philippe Noiret) would have you believe in. Lucien is the protagonist of Bertrand Tavernier's adaptation of Jim Thompson's crime novel, "Pop. 1280"--a film titled Coup de Torchon, which translates as "Clean Slate" in French. Lucien is the "sheriff" of a small village in French West Africa (Senegal) circa 1938, and claims that his method of enforcing the law largely amounts to letting minor crimes go unpunished. But in truth, Lucien is an unassuming schemer, capitalizing on the assumption of others around him that he is ineffectual for his own gain.
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I've read "Pop. 1280", and one of the things that made Thompson's novel so compelling was the way that you get inside the mind of what is fundamentally a sociopath. The sheriff in that story was named Nick Corey, and it was set a ramshackle little town at the turn of the 20th century in Texas, a time when The Wild West was still very much a fresh memory. Nick Corey exploited the other characters not just because they needed some comeuppance, but more specifically just because he could. It's the kind of character that because the others assume that he is too dumb because of his lackadaisical attitude and superficial submissiveness, they feel a little too comfortable to reveal precarious secrets about themselves...tools for Corey to exploit. I speak of the novel that inspired Coup de Torchon in detail here because it is both surprising just how effective transplanting that setting and those characters into this film is, but also to compare Nick Corey to Lucien. The brilliant casting of Noiret as Lucien makes it all the more alarming when Lucien drops his facade and does stuff like shoot someone in cold blood. With his soft expression and gentle eyes, he looks like a kindly uncle instead of an insidious manipulator, a detail that must have been considered with his casting. This helps to subvert audience expectations, along with the fact that virtually everyone else in the town--aside from the native Africans--are selfish jerks who take advantage of Lucien. Lucien is married to Huguette (Stéphane Audran), who denies him sex an criticizes him. It becomes clear very quickly that her "brother", Nono (Eddy Mitchell), who is living with them is anything but; he is actually Huguette's lover, and Lucien knows this. Both of them berate and mock Lucien, yet eat his food and live under his roof. So Coup de Torchon is already making us sympathetic toward Lucien because of how he is being used and abused by his wife and her lover. This trend continues with an arrogant businessman named Vanderbrouck (Michel Beaune), who owns--in addition to a lumber company--a collection of dilapidated outhouses situated right outside of Lucien's apartment. Vanderbrouck complains about their condition, yet uses them anyway, and barks at Lucien to have them fixed. There are also a pair of vicious pimps in fancy suits who openly torment and bully Lucien while breaking the law in other ways...like shooting at the corpses of Africans in the river for sport. When Lucien visits a colleague in a neighboring village--a sheriff named Marcel Chavasson (Guy Marchand)--about how to deal with the pimps, instead of authentic and legal counsel, he gets a racist tirade and is abused yet again. The only satisfaction Lucien appears to get comes from an attractive young woman named Rose (Isabelle Huppert), with whom Lucien is having an affair; she herself is publicly abused by her husband, Mercaillou (Victor Garrivier), on a regular basis. So after all of this mistreatment, when Lucien shoots the pimps dead by the side of the river, with no witnesses watching, our first reaction is to think that Lucien has simply had enough. But what follows slowly reveals that Lucien has a much more twisted agenda and a worldview to match. And this is where the parallels between Coup de Torchon and its source material truly emerge.
The village Lucien essentially holds dominion over is a kind of microcosm, a world under a looking glass for Lucien to scrutinize and study. Or perhaps to him it is more like a chessboard, and everyone else in the town are his pawns. Africa not a native world to the French, and this is important with the shadow of imperialism a constant in the film. On the surface, this comes in the way that the whites treat the blacks; at best, they ignore them, and at worst they are openly abusive. This does not appear to be true with Lucien, which further endears him to us in a subversive way. But consider, for example, when Lucien discloses to the pimps early on that one of his "prisoners", a man called "Fête Nat" (Abdoulaye Diop), makes coffee for him. Lucien dislikes how the pimps demand to use him for one of their gatherings, but...should Lucien really be making his "prisoners" perform tasks for him regardless? Isn't this an abuse of power, even if it is one where both parties benefit? That is, Fête Nat isn't kept in a cell, but openly sweeps the vestibule during this scene? Well...that starts to suggest that Lucien isn't really a "by the book" kind of cop--not in the slightest. But more than this, Lucien is observant, far more than anyone gives him credit for being. He is also subtly manipulative, knowing how and when to coordinate events to his advantage. This is obvious with the way that he entices Marcel to publicly boast and say that he "dealt with" the pimps, so as to deflect suspicion off of himself. Lucien even takes the opportunity to twist the knife when he intimates to Marcel that his open declaration of this will make him the prime suspect if they should turn up dead. Two birds, one stone. And as an audience, despite his double homicide, we may still sympathize with Lucien because the only people who suffered were horrible anyway. And that's the seductiveness of Coup de Torchon; that, and the lovely, young Rose...which leads into the next point.
In a traditional story, you'd expect the "hero" to wind up with the love interest, and Lucien appears to take great pains to make this happen with Rose. Lucien gives a repeat performance by killing an isolated Mercaillou, apparently so that he and Rose can be together. It's clear that Huguette and Nono are aware of the affair, yet Lucien denies it all the same. Why? Because, in reality, Lucien doesn't want to be with Rose. He's just playing the same game with people that he has for God knows how long. Yet this appears to change with the arrival of an innocent school teacher named Anne (Irène Skobline). Unlike virtually every other non-African person in his town, she is a sharp contrast of benevolence and good morality. Is this what Lucien finds so attractive about her? Is it the refreshing presence of a stranger in his midst? Does he seek to corrupt her? Coup de Torchon is joyfully enigmatic about this. At times, Lucien appears to confess his twisted scruples to her. He writes something suggesting that he has done evil on the chalkboard at her school, knowing that her students could not read it; it is a message for her alone. He goes to her apartment, slouches on the floor, and for a moment seems to want to confess...something. Maybe love, maybe sin. But since Lucien continues with his schemes anyway, this clearly wasn't enough of a thorn in his side to make him change his tactics. The justification that Lucien uses for his machinations is that when you are farther from civilization, rules become arbitrary; ironic, given his profession. What Lucien suggests is that it is the setting that has corrupted him, not something internal. So if Lucien is meant to be a true parallel to Nick Corey, then this is just another lie to conceal his black heart. But compare Lucien with other literary and cinematic figures, like Kurtz/Colonel Kurtz of "Heart of Darkness" and Apocalypse Now, and you have to wonder if there isn't a grain of truth here. Human beings are remarkably adaptable, but everyone has a point where they become a product of their environment, different from who they were before. Huguette briefly suggests that they have lived in Africa for about fifteen years at least. Would Lucien even know what the rest of the world--or the rest of France, even--looked like after all this time, despite the shadow of World War II looming on the horizon? Would he even care?
Recommended for: Fans of an intriguing and sly character study, a neo-noir exploration of how appearances can be deceiving, and how trust can be dangerous in the wrong hands. Coup de Torchon is a fascinating movie that constantly has you wondering if you can truly understand its protagonist's motivations. It challenges our own understanding of why people do what they do, since we often come to these conclusions on the mere scraps of truth others offer us.
The village Lucien essentially holds dominion over is a kind of microcosm, a world under a looking glass for Lucien to scrutinize and study. Or perhaps to him it is more like a chessboard, and everyone else in the town are his pawns. Africa not a native world to the French, and this is important with the shadow of imperialism a constant in the film. On the surface, this comes in the way that the whites treat the blacks; at best, they ignore them, and at worst they are openly abusive. This does not appear to be true with Lucien, which further endears him to us in a subversive way. But consider, for example, when Lucien discloses to the pimps early on that one of his "prisoners", a man called "Fête Nat" (Abdoulaye Diop), makes coffee for him. Lucien dislikes how the pimps demand to use him for one of their gatherings, but...should Lucien really be making his "prisoners" perform tasks for him regardless? Isn't this an abuse of power, even if it is one where both parties benefit? That is, Fête Nat isn't kept in a cell, but openly sweeps the vestibule during this scene? Well...that starts to suggest that Lucien isn't really a "by the book" kind of cop--not in the slightest. But more than this, Lucien is observant, far more than anyone gives him credit for being. He is also subtly manipulative, knowing how and when to coordinate events to his advantage. This is obvious with the way that he entices Marcel to publicly boast and say that he "dealt with" the pimps, so as to deflect suspicion off of himself. Lucien even takes the opportunity to twist the knife when he intimates to Marcel that his open declaration of this will make him the prime suspect if they should turn up dead. Two birds, one stone. And as an audience, despite his double homicide, we may still sympathize with Lucien because the only people who suffered were horrible anyway. And that's the seductiveness of Coup de Torchon; that, and the lovely, young Rose...which leads into the next point.
In a traditional story, you'd expect the "hero" to wind up with the love interest, and Lucien appears to take great pains to make this happen with Rose. Lucien gives a repeat performance by killing an isolated Mercaillou, apparently so that he and Rose can be together. It's clear that Huguette and Nono are aware of the affair, yet Lucien denies it all the same. Why? Because, in reality, Lucien doesn't want to be with Rose. He's just playing the same game with people that he has for God knows how long. Yet this appears to change with the arrival of an innocent school teacher named Anne (Irène Skobline). Unlike virtually every other non-African person in his town, she is a sharp contrast of benevolence and good morality. Is this what Lucien finds so attractive about her? Is it the refreshing presence of a stranger in his midst? Does he seek to corrupt her? Coup de Torchon is joyfully enigmatic about this. At times, Lucien appears to confess his twisted scruples to her. He writes something suggesting that he has done evil on the chalkboard at her school, knowing that her students could not read it; it is a message for her alone. He goes to her apartment, slouches on the floor, and for a moment seems to want to confess...something. Maybe love, maybe sin. But since Lucien continues with his schemes anyway, this clearly wasn't enough of a thorn in his side to make him change his tactics. The justification that Lucien uses for his machinations is that when you are farther from civilization, rules become arbitrary; ironic, given his profession. What Lucien suggests is that it is the setting that has corrupted him, not something internal. So if Lucien is meant to be a true parallel to Nick Corey, then this is just another lie to conceal his black heart. But compare Lucien with other literary and cinematic figures, like Kurtz/Colonel Kurtz of "Heart of Darkness" and Apocalypse Now, and you have to wonder if there isn't a grain of truth here. Human beings are remarkably adaptable, but everyone has a point where they become a product of their environment, different from who they were before. Huguette briefly suggests that they have lived in Africa for about fifteen years at least. Would Lucien even know what the rest of the world--or the rest of France, even--looked like after all this time, despite the shadow of World War II looming on the horizon? Would he even care?
Recommended for: Fans of an intriguing and sly character study, a neo-noir exploration of how appearances can be deceiving, and how trust can be dangerous in the wrong hands. Coup de Torchon is a fascinating movie that constantly has you wondering if you can truly understand its protagonist's motivations. It challenges our own understanding of why people do what they do, since we often come to these conclusions on the mere scraps of truth others offer us.