A pretty dreadful French thriller in which a gifted scenarist may be learning how to direct. The 126 minutes' length hints of a genre-piece that can't stop itself: the director wrote twice as many fainting scenes, dream sequences, and face-offs between heroine-villain as any film could sustain, and then left in every damned one of them. Its only suspense lies in the gradually revealed nastiness of the director himself-- "He's not going to do THAT to his actors.... My God, he really IS." The casting and the peculiar violations of genre logic show vestiges of a much better movie than BAMBI. In a day full of interesting French films shown at Boston's MFA, this ringer, of course, turned out to be the only one secured for American distribution. You are seeing the Director's Cut on screen-- a case in which a Studio version of this frayed and rough-cut would be superior.
Review of Qui a tué Bambi?
