The Wages of Fear (1953)
Having never seen a film by the man dubbed the French Hitchcock I decided to start with Henri-Georges Clouzot’s most famous and popular work, The Wages of Fear. The story of a group of unemployed immigrants living in South America, The Wages of Fear slots in somewhere alongside the likes of John Huston’s The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, albeit with a more realist slant. Its a hugely entertaining film, truly epic in size and scope, and represents the groundings of the high concept thriller, as what we have in hand is effectively a plot that could be summed up in one sentence – 4 men have to drive a truck full of explosives across treacherous land. Its the simplicity of the plot that allows the characterisation to breathe so successfully, which is the films ultimate selling point.
Henri-Georges Clouzot’s film may have been placed at polar opposites to the French Cinema that I am most fond of, but I still rate The Wages of Fear very highly. Lets not forget that its the high concept and commercially targetted likes of this film that the filmmakers of the Nouvelle Vague were actively seeking to be different from, yet the similarities are there; There is a scathing political message aimed at the function of class and the then-already apparent attitude of the United States towards oil (farsighted indeed), stylistically the film is as experimental and stylistically relevent as one would expect a major motion picture to be, and the films protagonist is by and large an anti-hero. So the comparisons towards the New Wave aren’t invisible, despite what Godard and company might lead you to believe.
The Wages of Fear is perhaps the most tense cinematic experience I have yet to partake in. The rules of the journey are simple; the cargo on the trucks is so sensitive to heat, movement and contact that even the simplest of pot-holes in the road could prove fatal. With this constantly in the back of the mind of the viewer it is impossible to rest easy for the latter 90 minutes of the film. Every bump is emphasised and the roar of the trucks engine feels like a scream for mercy. I hate to resort to dated cliches, but it truly is an “edge of the seat experience”.
The cast all perform well, with Yves Montand, recently seen in Godard’s Tout Va Bien, really standing out. Charles Vanel, as the shady new arrival in town (giving an insight into how each of the immigrants may have started out, prior to poverty setting in) provides a surprisingly effective portrait of a man falling apart. We suspect that each of the characters may have at some point been in a similar situation of self-doubt and fallout, yet Vanel’s M. Jo proves to be a rather unassuming look into that side of the characters.
The comparisons to Hitchcock are apparant, especially in the closing minutes, whereby “the sting in the tail” the likes of which we would expect from Hitchcock is revealed. To be perfectly honest I found this aspect of the film to be its weakest point, and a tad unfair to the viewer. I just didn’t believe it, as it strayed into much more poetic areas than previously explored. Saying that there is a fairly experimental and cinematically poetic approach to several other issues in the film. The first, and most obvious would be the point I already mentioned above regarding the noise of the trucks being an emphasised point. They truly do sound monstrous, and terrifying in their ferociousness. A similar thing could be said about the way in which the illness causing concrete is refered to. Its treated as though it is a problem causing character, and not as a lifeless piece of matter. The structure itself is fairly unconventional, as the premise itself isnt outlined until around 40 minutes into the film, and the use of close-ups at particualr moments exhibits a less workmanlike flair than I may have initially tacked on to the film. My favourite moment in the film, whereby one of the trucks meets a premature end is shown in an abnormal manner, with its fate being witnessed by the second group of characters as opposed to the ones it concerns. As such it is strangely more effective.
The Wages of Fear has opened the world of Clouzot up to me, and I look forward to taking a look at some of his other work in the very near future.
