Pleins feux sur l'assassin (1961) is a strange thriller mystery horroresque French film noir nest of vipers-style rural chateau based tale of twisted and messed up tale of bereavement and greed, which speaks of mortality, intense hatred, evil old age male spite and
It is a film not entirely within the French New Wave, and yet one which does display strong noir tropes, and at the same time seems to look at Jean Cocteua or Marcel Carne as inspiration rather than indulging in the deconstructions of the contemporary French class-acts such as Godard and Truffaut.
Georges Franju's Spotlight on a Murderer (Pleins feux sur l'assassin, 1961) stands as an intriguing yet underappreciated entry within the murder mystery genre. Released just a year after Franju's acclaimed Eyes Without a Face (Les Yeux sans Visage, 1960), Spotlight on a Murderer finds the director moving into new territory, blending the allure of Agatha Christie-inspired whodunits with his signature atmospheric direction.
Though this film is not widely regarded as one of Franju's masterpieces, it still possesses elements worth exploring, particularly in terms of its unique narrative structure and evocative setting. It also follows from earlier Franjuvian classics such as La tête contre les murs (Head Against the Wall) it still manages to explore sanity, although the institution explored is not the insane hospital which imposes its own views of reality on these characters it imprisons.
It is perhaps a ghost story, in which shadows impose perceptions, although producers di try to impose humour on the film, and other aspects to commercialise it. Franju said: “How can a film be successful” when its producers “tremble before moral censorship, when they try to please the public while displeasing everyone – the authors, at any rate? You can’t build anything on a scaffolding of concessions, you fall flat on your face.” (source)
It's the story of cruel joke played upon some greedy relatives. Among the group is Jean-Marie de Kerloquen (Jean-Louis Trintignant), who is the only one to make a token gesture, arriving with a funeral wreath for his uncle.
By doing so, he ensures that his heirs will not be able to claim his inheritance until they locate his body, forcing them to wait five years before they can inherit his wealth. This bizarre decision sets off a series of events that leads to the gradual and mysterious deaths of the count’s relatives, as tensions mount and the secrets of the past begin to resurface.
While the premise of Spotlight on a Murderer may seem far-fetched or even ludicrous, it is this very improbability that lends the film its unique charm. On top of that the son et lumiere study invites and makes comments on cinema itself as cinema.
The concept of relatives wasting five years maintaining a decaying chateau for the sake of inheritance is hard to swallow, and yet it forms the backbone of the narrative. The film's reliance on this central premise, however, does not hinder its ability to captivate the viewer, especially those attuned to Franju’s skilful manipulation of atmosphere.
The performances, while competent, fail to add significant layers to the plot. Pierre Brasseur, in the role of Count Hervé, appears for only a brief segment of the film, but his portrayal is nonetheless memorable due to its stark contrast with the other, more pedestrian performances.
To dismiss this film as merely another footnote in the annals of cinematic history would be both a disservice to its creators and a betrayal of its idiosyncratic allure. The nefarious Emeric Belasco, a figure of immense privilege, resolutely seeks to maintain his malignant influence beyond the veil of death, ensconced within the decaying, morally bankrupt confines of his opulent yet accursed manor in John Hough’s The Legend of Hell House (1973), adapted from Richard Matheson’s novel, is similar somehow to the Count, playing the living after death.
Similarly to this cinematic exploration, it is not until the revelation of the Count’s hidden presence that the other characters, ensnared by the oppressive enchantment he has woven, are finally liberated from the insidious grip of his spectral domination.
The plot, though absurd on its face, is a carefully crafted vehicle for both dark humor and a satirical commentary on the nature of greed. At its heart, Spotlight on a Murderer is an exploration of the grotesque human condition: the lengths to which one will go to claim what is not rightfully theirs. The narrative centers on the terminally ill Count Hervé de Kerloquen (Pierre Brasseur, giving a performance as fleeting as the man he portrays).
In a final act of rebellion against his heirs—greedy, desperate, and manipulative—he decides to vanish into the shadows of his own sprawling estate, his body hidden behind a two-way mirror. His death, although anticipated by his physicians, remains in doubt due to the absence of a body, thereby forcing his heirs to wait five excruciating years before they can claim their inheritance.
The absurdity of the premise is underscored by the heirs’ predicament: they must maintain the extravagant estate during the interim, a task that becomes increasingly difficult as familial tensions begin to rise.
The situation takes an even darker turn when some of the heirs, now desperate to secure their wealth, die under mysterious circumstances. Enter Jean-Marie (Jean-Louis Trintignant), the only family member who begins to suspect foul play and embarks on an investigation to uncover the truth. However, his suspicions are met with resistance from his fellow heirs, who are too consumed by their greed to entertain the possibility that one of their own might be behind the deaths.
It is, of course, a narrative that recalls the archetypal whodunit, but what makes Spotlight on a Murderer stand out is its bizarre blend of darkly comedic farce and gothic horror.
Franju, the cinema auteur, is not simply content to play within the confines of a standard murder mystery; rather, he invites his audience into a world where the grotesque and the absurd collide with resplendent artistry.
What might at first glance appear as a run-of-the-mill thriller reveals itself as a sly commentary on the human condition, particularly on the baseness of human desire and the consequences of unchecked ambition.
The film’s mood is suffused with a palpable sense of unease, which Franju masterfully conjures through his use of atmosphere. Much like the oppressive presence of the château in Eyes Without a Face, the estate in Spotlight on a Murderer is more than a mere backdrop—it is an active participant in the drama that unfolds.
The architecture itself, vast and labyrinthine, reflects the labyrinthine machinations of the characters within. The castle, in its Gothic splendor, stands as a metaphor for the labyrinths of the soul: vast, enigmatic, and fraught with peril for those who dare to navigate its halls.
Franju, in collaboration with his trusted screenwriters Boileau and Narcejac, imbues the film with an almost surreal quality, particularly through its son et lumière (sound and light) sequences, which evoke the ghostly spectacle of a haunted house attraction. The heirs, in their desperation to maintain the estate, transform the castle into a tacky tourist attraction, complete with elaborate light shows and eerie sound effects.
These sequences, while ostensibly designed to entertain visitors, serve as a clever visual metaphor for the falsehoods and illusions that the family members construct in order to justify their actions. The light and sound become tools of manipulation, turning the truth into a spectacle for public consumption. This commentary on the performative nature of truth and the commodification of the past speaks to Franju’s own engagement with cinema as a medium of spectacle.
Visually, the film is striking. Cinematographer Marcel Fradetal’s lensing captures the eerie beauty of the estate with precision, using shadows and light to underscore the sense of dread that permeates the narrative. The light, both literal and metaphorical, becomes a central motif.
As the plot progresses, light, in its various forms, becomes both a weapon and a symbol of revelation. Just as the light reveals the hidden corners of the château, it also exposes the darkness within the characters themselves.
Musically, the film benefits from the haunting score by Maurice Jarre, whose compositions lend an ethereal quality to the narrative. The music, delicate yet unsettling, mirrors the contradictions inherent in the film—its lighthearted moments are undercut by an ever-present undercurrent of menace. The score dances between tragedy and comedy, much as the film itself vacillates between the farcical and the sinister. The juxtaposition of these elements is what gives the film its unique flavor, creating a tension that keeps the audience on edge, unsure whether to laugh or shudder.
The performances, though at times somewhat one-dimensional, are nonetheless effective in conveying the moral and emotional decay of the characters. The heirs, each more despicable than the last, are driven by a singular obsession: the inheritance.
Their motivations are rendered with a delightful simplicity, as they manipulate, backstab, and conspire in increasingly absurd ways to secure their claim to the estate. Jean-Louis Trintignant’s portrayal of Jean-Marie, the lone heir with any semblance of moral compass, stands as a beacon of reason amidst the chaos. Trintignant, always a charismatic presence, imbues his character with a quiet intensity that contrasts beautifully with the more flamboyant performances of his fellow cast members.
Yet, it is Brasseur’s brief but impactful appearance as the deceased count that truly encapsulates the essence of the film. His eccentric, larger-than-life portrayal of a man who, in his final moments, chooses to frustrate his heirs rather than make their lives easier, serves as a satirical commentary on the greed that drives the family.
Brasseur, who had previously worked with Franju on Eyes Without a Face, is perfectly cast in this role, bringing to life a character whose very existence—though hidden behind a two-way mirror—exerts a lasting influence on the events that unfold.
In terms of narrative structure, Spotlight on a Murderer operates within a familiar framework, one that will be instantly recognizable to fans of Agatha Christie’s work. Yet Franju’s handling of the material is far from conventional.
He does not simply provide a straightforward mystery; rather, he subverts expectations at every turn, using the murder mystery genre as a vehicle for exploring themes of greed, deception, and the commodification of death. The question of who will inherit the estate is less important than the question of what lengths the characters will go to in order to secure their desires.
The film’s subversive elements extend to its treatment of death itself. While the deaths of the heirs are treated with an almost offhanded humor, they also function as a critique of the value placed on wealth and status. The deaths are not mourned but rather viewed as inevitable consequences of the characters’ own actions. In this way, Franju critiques the notion of legacy, suggesting that it is not the dead who are truly important, but the living who continue to pursue their desires, often at the expense of others.
It is worth noting that Spotlight on a Murderer was initially a commercial failure upon its release in France in 1961. The film’s playful approach to the genre, combined with its dark humor and occasional absurdity, did not sit well with contemporary audiences.
However, over time, the film has been reappraised, and today it is recognized as one of Franju’s most intriguing and imaginative works. The recent high-definition release by Arrow Films has provided a new opportunity for audiences to experience this cinematic gem in all its restored glory, allowing the film to reach a wider audience than ever before.
In conclusion, Spotlight on a Murderer is a film that deserves far more attention than it initially received. It is a work that plays with genre conventions, subverts audience expectations, and offers a darkly comedic exploration of the human condition.
Through Franju’s meticulous direction, Boileau and Narcejac’s sharp script, and a talented ensemble cast, the film presents a unique and captivating take on the murder mystery genre. It may not have achieved commercial success upon its initial release, but its rediscovery and restoration allow it to take its rightful place in the pantheon of great French cinema. Spotlight on a Murderer is a delightful, ghoulish caper that proves, once again, that in the world of cinema, appearances can be deceiving.
His character’s decision to die in hiding, though dramatic, is never fully explored beyond its practical implications. Similarly, Pascale Audret, though an actress with considerable potential, does not have the opportunity to showcase her talents in a role that lacks the necessary depth to allow for a meaningful connection to the audience.
Spotlight on a Murderer finds its strength not in character development but in its pacing, direction, and atmosphere. Georges Franju’s eye for composition and his ability to create tension in the smallest of details are evident throughout the film.
As in his earlier works, Franju excels in creating an oppressive atmosphere, with the imposing chateau serving as both a character and a symbol of the twisted machinations taking place within it. The oppressive nature of the environment is heightened by the claustrophobic confines of the château, and the desolate landscapes surrounding it only add to the sense of doom and inevitability that hangs over the proceedings.
It is this oppressive atmosphere that ultimately becomes the film's most powerful asset, making up for its narrative shortcomings.
The script, written by the famed duo Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, who are best known for their contributions to Les Diaboliques (1955) and Hitchcock's Vertigo (1958), is full of clever twists and references to classic murder mysteries.
The story nods to Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None and Ten Little Indians, but it is done with a knowing tongue-in-cheek sensibility. These subtle references to the works of Christie serve as a tribute to the genre, while also acknowledging its conventions in a playful, self-aware manner. This approach may have contributed to the film’s lack of initial recognition—some critics at the time dismissed it as a mere "rehash" of Christie’s formulas, failing to appreciate the film's more ironic and self-referential tone.
It is important to note, however, that Spotlight on a Murderer is not intended to be a deep psychological exploration of its characters or a statement on the human condition. Rather, it is a work that invites the audience to engage with its playful and mysterious elements.
The film’s greatest strength lies in its ability to entertain while offering a lighthearted take on the murder mystery genre, and it is here that Franju and his collaborators excel.
One of the standout features of the film is the magnificent setting of the chateau. Its grandeur and isolation lend the film a gothic quality that is both eerie and mesmerizing. The château is a character in itself, its walls and corridors hiding secrets, just as the characters hide their intentions and motives. The film’s cinematography captures the dark, moody atmosphere of the setting with striking elegance, enhancing the tension and intrigue that permeate the plot. The chateau’s lakeside location adds an additional layer of melancholic beauty, contributing to the film’s overall sense of dread.
The use of the château as the central location also emphasizes the isolation of the characters. Trapped within the walls of this imposing structure, the heirs are forced to confront not only the mystery of the count’s disappearance but also their own personal conflicts and ambitions.
This confinement mirrors the moral and psychological isolation of the characters, who are driven by greed and a desire to claim the inheritance, yet remain unaware of the dark forces at play within the chateau.
The film’s pacing, while deliberate, maintains a level of suspense throughout its runtime. The deaths of the heirs are staged in a manner that is both thrilling and darkly comedic, as the viewer is left to wonder who will be next to succumb to the deadly forces within the château. Franju keeps the audience on edge, alternating between moments of tense anticipation and moments of dark humor. The film does not shy away from the macabre, but it also injects moments of levity that prevent it from becoming overly grim or heavy-handed.
Despite its flaws, Spotlight on a Murderer has found a measure of posthumous appreciation in recent years. The film’s reputation has improved somewhat, largely due to the growing recognition of Franju’s work and the film’s ability to stand out in a crowded genre.
Though the film may not reach the heights of Eyes Without a Face or Les Diaboliques, it remains a valuable piece of French cinema that deserves more attention than it originally received.
One of the most notable elements of the modern appreciation of the film is the Arrow Video Blu-ray release, which has made the film more accessible to contemporary audiences. The restoration, along with the vintage production featurette that includes interviews with Franju and the cast, offers a glimpse into the making of the film and its place within the larger context of Franju’s career.
However, the release is somewhat lacking in additional supplementary material, such as an audio commentary or a video essay, which would have added further depth to the understanding of the film’s place in cinematic history.
The film’s musical score, composed by Maurice Jarre, while not as iconic as some of his later work, complements the tone of the film well. The music, though relatively subdued, helps to build the sense of mystery and suspense that defines the film’s atmosphere.
The soundtrack, with its use of haunting melodies and eerie motifs, enhances the overall mood of the film, making the chateau and its secrets feel all the more sinister.
Spotlight on a Murderer is a film that, while not without its flaws, offers a unique and engaging take on the murder mystery genre. The film’s playfulness, combined with its atmospheric direction, makes it a worthy entry in Franju’s filmography.
The film may not be a masterpiece, but it may also be a masterpiece, if that fits your vision. At the same time it is an entertaining and charming experience that deserves to be rediscovered by those with an interest in French cinema and the murder mystery genre.
With its clever script, atmospheric setting, and darkly comedic undertones, Spotlight on a Murderer is a delightful romp through a twisted world of intrigue and deception.
Spotlight on a Murderer (1961)
Directed by Georges Franju
Starring Pierre Brasseur, Pascale Audret | Release date: 29 September 1961 | Running time 95 minutes