[Film Review] Mississippi Mermaid (1969) 6.7/10
It is an irrational case of “amour fou” resides in the center of Truffaut’s MISSISSIPPI MERMAID, based on Woolrich's source novel WALTZ INTO DARKNESS, and would spawn a Hollywood remake in 2001, Michael Cristofer’s ORIGINAL SIN, a star vehicle for Angelina Jolie and Antonio Banderas.
But, unlike a quintessential folie-à-deux situation, here the “fou” is a singular man, Louis Mahé (Belmondo), an affluent tobacco plantation owner on Réunion Island in the Indian Ocean, is instantly besotted with Julie Roussel (Deneuve), the bride-to-be he has never met, they correspond solely through letters, but the catch is, Julie looks nothing like the girl in the photo Louis has received, still, they marry in the church (highlighted by a telltale shot that Louis’ ring for her is ill-assorted).
The warning signs are all over the place, Julie, whose real name is Marion Vergano, is a con artist in the thrall of her gangster partner, when she successfully vanishes with almost all of Louis’ money in the bank, it is not the life of Riley that awaits her, she is summarily jilted, and soon she and Louis will meet again in Antibes, with the latter harboring an intention to kill. Murder duly ensues, but the poor thing at the receiving end is not Marion, and Louis has to give up all his material effects, even his own life, to prove his unadulterated love for her, isn't that pathetic? Or, in French, that’s “romantic” in its purest sense.
Ultimately, this kind of story only sounds “romantic” in a typical masculine perspective, a man willingly sacrifices everything for the love of a young and beautiful woman, yet, “young and beautiful” are the operative words in this instance, Marion is put on a pedestal simply for her outward pulchritude, the icy queen with a seedy past, she is the “object of desire” only, her soul is rotten and unregenerate, Deneuve is well-disposed to go the whole hog of the stereotyped male-gazing image. What’s more, Louis’ so-called “sacrifice” is totally manipulative because he confesses openly of his “poison-intaking” volition with a selfish intention to guilt-trip Marion into love him back, were it be a de-facto, unconditional sacrifice, he should have simply drunk the poison without divulging anything, but then, he might not be alive to enjoy his victory. By and large, it is regretful that Truffaut has to jump on that faux-devotional bandwagon in view of the opposite sex.
Shot in real locations and proficiently integrating cross-cuts to ginger up a less unpredictable narrative, underset by Antoine Duhamel’s sonorous accompaniment, MISSISSIPPI MERMAID can be twinned with Godard’s PIERROT LE FOU (1965) as a mirror’s two faces, not least on account of the duo presences of Belmondo, who best interprets a modern reckless man’s insouciance, and telegraphs a soupçon of resigned innocence here, belying the cutesy gesture that leaves a bitter taste in Yours Truly’s mouth.
referential entries: Truffaut’s THE STORY OF ADELE H (1975, 7.1/10); Jean-Luc Godard’s PIERROT LE FOU (1965, 7.4/10).
