Review of Le Samouraï (1967) by Dorianator F — 31 Oct 2015

Le Samouraï is not a masterpiece because of its no-nonsense, economical, and stylish construction, all traits that can ultimately be found in any dimestore noir; it's a masterpiece because of its underlying sadness, its portrayal of quiet pain, and its commitment to calculated anxiety.

Alain Delon is perfect for this role, beautiful and mysterious and capable of communicating silent desperation with just intense stares and moments of silence, an unknowable and yet entirely universal embodiment of a human being cut off from human emotion. The bird in Jef's apartment serves as a security measure, but it also keeps him from killing himself, a physical presence that upsets his meticulous routines. Like the world of the film itself, he is not passionate, cool and calculating out of necessity but hopeless and depressed and without purpose beyond duty. When the world turns against him, he gives in without hesitation, and the tragedy of his ultimate demise is remarkable, succinct, and poignant in a way that makes Le Samouraï one of the absolutely best of its genre and of its medium as a whole.