Repulsion
By Bill Warren
Only the second feature film by director Roman Polanski, "Repulsion" already demonstrates clearly that he's a master at filmmaking. After a horrible childhood--a Polish Jew, he hid alone in the forest during World War II to avoid capture by Nazis and Polish anti-Semites--he attended film school in Poland, and soon knew what he wanted to do the rest of his life. Whatever his failings as a person, Polanski is one of the best directors, anywhere, living today.
The very interesting commentary track by Polanski and his star Catherine Deneuve (recorded separately, both in English), reveals that the director now regards this as a flawed early work; Deneuve still regards it as one of her best films, certainly one of her best performances. Both are probably correct, but the flaws Polanski points out--the shadow of a camera on an actor, graininess in a freeze-frame shot, an amateurish quality to some of the scenes--aren't likely to be visible to most who watch this hypnotically fascinating movie.
Hoping to gain a foothold in the world of Western filmmaking (i.e. Britain and Hollywood), Polanski and his co-writer and best friend Gerard Brach deliberately chose to write a horror movie, and turned to a usually cut-rate British production company for funds. The result was probably the most shocking real-life horror movie in the wake of "Psycho," and it's psychologically much more valid than the Hitchcock classic. It takes us into the mind of its psychotic central character; we see her deranged fantasies as if they were reality. Walls crack, phantom rapists lunge at her from behind wardrobes, hands extend from those cracking walls, groping at the terrified young woman.
The production company was headed by Tony Tenser; his output usually consisted of movies with titles like "Blood on Satan's Claw" (a good movie too, but you get the idea), and he and his partners were constantly uncertain about Polanski's goals. The result, however, was nearly a masterpiece; it got rave reviews and, for a low-budget British movie, did well around the world. Tenser and his team also produced Polanski's next movie, "Cul-de-Sac," and then Polanski went on to larger budgets and more prestigious production companies.
Deneuve is Carole, an angelic French-speaking blonde from the Continent, now living in the South Kensington area of London with her sister Helen (Yvonne Furneaux). We first see Carole at her job at a beauty parlor, almost in a trance, so immediately we realize something is wrong with her. By the end of the film, she's completely insane and has killed two people in a psychotic frenzy.
Thanks to Polanski's sensitivity as a director and Deneuve's eloquence as an actor, we never lose sympathy for this increasingly troubled young woman. We also realize why those around her haven't realized she's seriously disturbed; she's soft-spoken, reticent and shy, so to a degree she's overlooked by everyone. But the famous last shot of the movie--a move in on a picture from her childhood--indicates that her derangement goes back many years.
The title identifies one major feature of her mental problems--she's repulsed by human contact, especially anything even vaguely of a sexual nature. When her concerned boyfriend Colin (John Fraser) impulsively kisses her, she flees, and a moment later vigorously rubs every trace of the kiss from her lips. Helen leaves with her (married) boyfriend for a trip to Italy, with Carole left all alone in their smallish apartment. Being alone shoves her off the edge.
At work, there's a telling scene: alone in a storeroom, she sees a beam of sunlight on a stool in front of her--and tries to brush it away. She forgets about combing her hair, she's even more distracted, and finally unthinkingly injures a customer. She's sent home alone, though Colin has begun to really worry about her.
Shot in crisp, beautifully-lit black and white by Gil Taylor (Polanski frequently praises him in the commentary track), "Repulsion" has a unique look, due both to the carefully-lit photography and the imaginative set decoration. When Carole's dementia settles in more deeply, she sees the apartment as a cavernous space; Polanski and art director Seamus Flannery had much larger versions of the sets built. Though it looks impeccably realistic, the apartment is entirely a set.
This Blu-ray disc was released by the admirable Criterion company, specialists in foreign classics, sometimes releasing cult classic American films ("Fiend without a Face," for instance). They're scrupulously professional. In addition to the informative, interesting track by Polanski and Deneuvee, the set includes a booklet with an essay by Bill Horrigan. The disc itself also features a 2003 British TV documentary on the film, and scenes from 1964 French TV documentary shot during production. These are well-edited and very much to the point.
But the major virtue of this is the print itself. The box describes it as a 'new, restored, high-definition digital transfer, approved by director Roman Polanski, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack." The print is a beauty, and the increased sharpness is especially important to this film, where textures are so crucial. Carole takes a ready-for-cooking rabbit carcass from the refrigerator, then leaves it out to gradually decay over the week or so in which the film takes place. Some potatoes gradually wrinkle and sprout fleshy-looking tendrils. Both of these are emblematic of the decay of Carole's mind.
Cracks appear in pavements and walls, but only Carole (and we) see them. Once, she creeps along the wall which seems to soften, allowing her to leave handprints in the plaster. Later, hands sprout from the wall, clutching at her. (Deneuve's commentary-track comments on this are amusing.) It's rare that insanity has been so believably and thoroughly demonstrated in a movie.
The sound, though monaural, was extremely well-planned; we hear noises from the streets, someone practicing piano in another apartment, and Carole is attracted and repulsed by the sounds of her sister and boyfriend having sex. The excellent score by American jazz musician Chico Hamilton includes some inventive, unusual sounds, emblematic of Carole's increasing insanity.
There are several shock scenes--this was, after all, intended to be a horror movie--some of which are so memorable it's likely anyone who ever sees this movie will remember them. (Particularly the use of a mirror on a swinging closet door.) But like "Psycho," it's also much more than a horror movie; it's a movie classic.
This is an outstanding set, easily used as a demonstration of the virtue of releasing black and white movies in Blu-ray high definition, but don't buy it for that reason. Buy it because it's a terrific movie.
Actors/Directors: Catherine Deneuve, Yvonne Furneaux, Ian Hendry, Roman Polanski, Gerard Brach, Chico Hamilton, Gilbert Taylor
