The Flower of Evil is French director Claude Chabrol’s 50th movie, and in his long career (which began in 1958 with one of the first films to herald the French New Wave, Le Beau Serge) he has made many marvelous movies. (See Les Bonnes Femmes, Les Biches, The Butcher, La Cérémonie, or The Swindle for just a few examples of Chabrol working in top form.) However, The Flower of Evil is one of Chabrol’s lesser works – which is not to say that it is a bad movie, just one of the director’s more routine efforts. Like most of Chabrol’s movies, The Flower of Evil is consumed with the subjects of guilt, culpability, and the disingenuousness of the bourgeoisie. It is also a story based on the notion that one generation’s sins are destined to be repeated by the next. And although this fills the movie with an inevitable sense of dread, the story’s pace moves toward its climax with little suspense or quickening of the senses. The opening shot of the movie leaves little doubt as to what will happen (it’s a slow tracking shot through the empty rooms of a French country estate until it finds a woman crouched on the floor in tears and a dead man with a bloodied head in the next room); Chabrol’s only concern is what led to the death. The story begins as François Vasseur (Magimel) returns home to the Bordeaux region after spending four years in America. He returns to the home of his father Gérard (Le Coq) and stepmother Anne (Baye), who has become involved in local politics during his absence and is currently running for mayor. Gerard and Anne’s marriage is the second for both partners, each having been married to the other’s deceased spouse. Also living in the house is François stepsister Michèle (Doutey) and Anne’s elderly Aunt Line (Flon). Quickly, it becomes clear that the reason François left for America was his fear that he was becoming too close to his stepsister. Another thing that becomes quickly apparent is the philandering Gerard’s displeasure with his wife’s involvement in politics. But good bourgeoisie that these people are, they curb their tongues and mind their manners. Then, an anonymous scandal sheet brings up dirt from the past about Anne’s mother, who was rumored to have murdered her Nazi collaborator husband. The stage is now set for repetition, yet it all seems a little forced. Nevertheless, there are some wonderful performances and lovely unadorned moments in The Flower of Evil when the movie is not drowning its viewers in its doomed fragrance.
This article appears in November 14 • 2003.
