Manon isn’t Henri-Georges Clouzot’s best film by a long stretch but it is a great example of how good he was at what he did. A richly detailed story about an amoral woman and the man she falls for, its interesting personal angle is that Clouzot is possibly using it to examine his own behaviour during wartime.
The story is an updating of Manon Lescaut, by Abbé Prévost, a story familiar to most French people, who would also be familiar with the other “Manon” – Manon des Sources (which has also been turned into a film several times). Not to be confused.
Prévost’s story remains popular because there’s sex and scandal aplenty in it and an enigmatic quality to its “heroine”, a woman without principles first met in the ruins of a French village, where a French soldier, Desgrieux, has been charged with guarding her until an arrest can be made. “Cavorting with Jerrys” is the charge against Manon, and Desgrieux is initially as dismissive of Manon as the townsfolk outside, who’d love to shave the head of this “wicked”, “crafty” woman – as they did with women who’d been too friendly with the enemy.
Instead Desgrieux falls in love with her, and she with him, and after they have embraced in a bombed-out church, surrounded by shattered statues of saints (spot the indictment), they go on the run together. First to Paris, where Manon’s equally ruthless brother is a black marketeer. Here, Manon – flatly, blithely unconcerned about any ethical position taken by anyone at all – works her way down the moral pecking order, eventually becoming a prostitute, all the while professing her blind devotion to Desgrieux, who buys her declarations wholesale.
It is a strange relationship and if this were an exam the question might be what Desgrieux gets out of it, or what is it in a man that allows him to go along with this sort of thing? Desgrieux is the mystery here. Manon is clearly delineated from the start – the woman out for herself, flighty, passionate, unconcerned with the effect her actions have on others. She is at least honest about it, which makes her a heroine at least of an existential sort – true to herself.
Clouzot had also been accused of collaborating with the enemy during wartime, and so there may be an examination of his own behaviour going on here. If so it’s a half-hearted one. What he’s much more committed to is the portrayal of France as the war ends – from the Americans liberating the small towns of Normandy, to life in Paris, where attention is lavished on cafés and clubs, poky garrets and swish mansions, life on and off the streets. The lovely clothes are skilfully caught, as is the elaborately decorated fin-de-siècle brothel where Manon eventually winds up working. The restoration by Films du Jeudi really do Clouzot and his regular cinematographer Armand Thirard proud.
There are some great performances. Cécile Aubry obviously as Manon – the only thing we can really work out about her is that she does genuinely love Desgrieux. Michel Auclair is an enigmatic Desgrieux, Serge Reggiani perfect as the ducking, diving, spivvy brother, Raymond Souplex superbly corrupt as Monsieur Paul, the Parisian pimp with a finger in every pie. And – only in it for one scene but it’s a good one – Gabrielle Dorziat as Mme Agnès, the professionally coquettish madam Manon eventually works for.
Bookending the whole thing are scenes on board a ship bound for Palestine loaded with Jewish refugees, where Desgrieux and Manon will eventually decamp for a finish that is out of keeping with the rest of the film, or entirely as it should be if Old Testament justice is your preferred way of wrapping things up.
It is the movie that moves from one challenging environment – village in ruins, life on the edge in Paris, stowing away on a ship, in the deserts of Palestine – to another and it’s full of great things. It isn’t that great itself, though. It’s obvious what Manon is from the start, the only questions remaining are how long Desgrieux is going to put up with her, and why?
Manon – Watch it/buy it at Amazon
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© Steve Morrissey 2025
