Les Diaboliques (1955)

Perhaps the most incredible element of Henri-Georges Clouzot’s bitterly charged horror-thriller Les Diaboliques is that even after nearly 60 years, the absolutely impeccable conclusion dares not to be muttered. It is a film that is wholly clouded in mystery and ambiguity, and that’s how it remains to serve as a flawless piece of atmospheric cinema. There is even a statement in the closing credits which kindly asks audiences not to discuss or spoil the film’s final moments for future viewers; that is how strikingly and importantly they screen. Often the film is cited as ‘the greatest Hitchcock film he never made’, and this is entirely apt.  

Not only it is vigorous in design, structure and presentation, it is also a greatly disturbing tale; one laden with deceit, control and murder. Clouzot’s characters are fleshed with towering density – to the point where even their faintest motions feel entirely authentic and cinematically realised. The black and white photography only elevates the murky tone which brilliantly hangs in the air; coating the world in sour shades and shadows. The score meticulously clinks and spine-tingles before wailing like a wounded animal – it’s frequent contrasts so shocking that it shakes the soul harder than the eardrums – plus the Mise-en-scène is so astute that not even a single hair fibre feels out of place. Les Diaboliques is not only a quintessential French picture, it’s also among the hallmarks in a genre so widely renowned and beloved.