Les Bonnes Femmes [1960]

 The most striking quality of Les Bonnes Femmes – Chabrol’s fourth feature and one of his personal favourites – is the way it so fluidly segued from bouncy and vibrant to sardonic and astringent to menacing and nihilistic. These, combined with Chabrol’s clinical dismantling of bourgeois, paternalistic and heteronormative tendencies that the society is so inherently filled with, and bitter lamentations on how naïve and sentimental dreams are casually exploited and quashed, made this a surprisingly pessimistic work. The film’s jaundiced themes, nevertheless, were counterpointed with a freewheeling style, jazzy score, sparkling B/W photography, exuberant splashes and love letter to Paris – it was shot on location in a mix of public and private spaces – which made it such a vivacious work, despite its caustic undercurrents. These contrasting flavours, in turn, made it a key Nouvelle Vague film on hindsight, despite being largely unsuccessful during its release. It’s a remarkably zeitgeisty portrait of four young Parisian women who’re co-workers at a store – the flirtatious Jane (Bernadette Lafont), who loves unrestraint abandon and one-night-stands; the reserved Ginette (Stéphane Audran, in her first major role and second of her twenty-five film collaboration with Chabrol), who copes with the drudgery of her job by secretly singing at a decrepit cabaret during the night; the hopeful Rita (Lucile Saint-Simon), who’s engaged with a guy patronizingly moulding her into his social class; and the naive and starry-eyed Jacqueline (Clotilde Joano), the most heartbreakingly tragic of the lot, who becomes enamoured with a mysterious man obsessively stalking her, which eventually takes an ominous turn. The men in the film were either predatory or lecherous or uncouth or tiresome, which unambiguously indicated who the filmmaker’s radical empathies were with.

Director: Claude Chabrol

Genre: Drama/Urban Drama/Comedy/Buddy Film

Language: French

Country: France