The phrases “character study” and “heist thriller” will rarely, if ever, be used in the same sentence to describe a American genre film. A contemporary American film would likely emphasize the planning, preparation, and execution of the heist over character, character development, and dialogue. Character would be revealed through the actions necessary to reach major goals or milestones, i.e., the heist or robbery itself. A contemporary French film, on the other hand, might take a different, diametrical approach. It would more likely treat the heist. either as goal or as an event, as background, as subplot, while thoroughly exploring the motivations and backstories of the individual characters, through dialogue and routine, everyday interactions (and not through conflict, confrontation, or violence).
In Patrice Leconte’s Man on the Train (“Homme du train, L'), a chance meeting between two older men reaching the end of their lives leads to an examination of opportunities missed and paths not taken. As Man on the Train opens, Milan (Johnny Hallyday), an aging thief, arrives in a small provincial town via train. Milan, suffering from a headache, enters the local pharmacy to obtain aspirin. There, he meets Monsieur Manesquier (Jean Rochefort), a retired elementary teacher. Manesquier invites the stranger home, ostensibly for a glass of water to accompany the aspirin. Manesquier lives alone in a semi-rundown manor on the edge of town. The two men are oddly matched. Manesquier is loquacious, covering his intense loneliness and ennui with constant chatter. Milan, on the other hand, is reticent, hesitant to offer even simple, personal details.
A second coincidence (the only hotel in town is closed) leads Milan back to Manesquier’s home. Milan, in a sense, becomes Manesquier’s boarder. Milan, of course, isn’t in town for a vacation. Milan, in fact, is the leader of the gang, intent on robbing the only bank in town. But even as Leconte introduces the other members of his crew, Max (Charlie Nelson), Luigi (Jean-François Stévenin), and Sadko (Pascal Parmentier), he returns to the growing friendship between the two men. As Milan begins to respond to Manesquier’s garrulousness, the men recognize the different paths each could have taken. They see in each other’s lives much to admire. For Manesquier, who’s lived his entire life in the small, provincial town, Milan’s life of risk, danger, and adventure is admirable. Milan sees Manesquier’s calm, settled life of routine and order as equally admirable. Manesquier even offers to help with the robbery. For his part, Milan plays at substitute teacher when one of Manesquier’s private students arrives for his lesson.
But the first tentative signs of friendship gradually give way to two, unrelated events, for Milan and his crew, the bank robbery, and for Manesquier, heart surgery. Both events are scheduled for the same day, both carry life-or-death consequences for the characters. Manesquier, his romanticism fading as Saturday approaches, offers Milan an alternative to the robbery. Both events, however, take on a sense of inevitability, of irrevocable mortality as Man on the Train works its way toward its tragic denouement. Man on the Train may be the first (and most likely, the only) heist or robbery film that intercuts a robbery in progress with open-heart surgery.
Not surprisingly, Leconte (Monsieur Hire, The Hairdresser's Husband, Intimate Strangers) and his screenwriter Claude Klotz prefer to end Man on the Train on an ambiguous note, allowing the audience to choose between several possible endings, ranging from the hopeful to the tragic. Some viewers, however, may have some difficulty with Man on the Train's ambiguous ending (and see it as a cop out, or as "typically French," i.e., pretension in the guise of profundity). Ending aside, viewers might find the relationship between the two men improbably (especially in the early scenes). Viewers might also find the dialogue implausible, as the conversation between the two men turns from the mundane to the poetic (understandable in the case of a former elementary school teacher, but less believable in the case of an aging criminal). Leconte and Klotz, however, give imbue the dialogue with gentle wit and droll humor.
Rochefort and Hallyday, in turn, give persuasive, sympathetic performances. Hallyday’s performance, however, is more mannered, less naturalistic, likely driven by his iconic status in France as a rock'n'roll singer and performer spanning four decades (he's long been considered the "Elvis" of France). Rochefort, one of the most respected and admired actors in France (his career has spanned more almost fifty years and more than 100 films), gives an understated, grounded performance as the retired schoolteacher. Both actors are aided, in turn, by Leconte's actor-friendly direction. Leconte employs fluid, unobtrusive camera movement, in part to underscore mood and emotion, and in part, to energize the dialogue scenes. For his color palette, Leconte relies on blues and grays, connecting winter colors to the characters and the mortality they both face.
© Mel Valentin, 8th May, 2005
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