Le Silence De La Mer

Jean-Pierre Melville’s first feature, from 1949. A short work, and an excellent one.
Deliberately frontlining it as an adaption of a novel means that the political commitment, the ‘under occupation’ aspect is frontlined. It deliberately stifles. The narration (and the image in its lack of obvious expression) is pretty Bressonian at the start, with actions we can see being repeated. This welds us to the everyday, making it seem almost like a coping mechanism. It also allows us the interiority the plot cannot give to the French, a necessary balancing of the structure.
This film uses racked focus a reasonable amount. It is perhaps Melville’s (from what we have seen) most formally noticeable, almost expressionist film. High and low angles are use to emphasis power, point of view, and framing particular aspects (the fire, the landmarks, etc). They are also used as a matter of creating space. Establishing shots are generally avoided, but the room (and Paris) are coherently created by angled depth from particular views (with the centre of attention close to us in a deep framing), and frequent cuts using this, so we get to see the whole room). The space is further filled out by this. They are also used as a matter of creating space. Establishing shots are generally avoided, but the room (and Paris) are coherently created by angled depth from particular views (with the centre of attention close to us in a deep framing), and frequent cuts using this, so we get to see the whole room). The space is further filled out by music (Paris) and the ticking of the clock; that harsh sound that alerts us to the whole world, tense, filled with horror, yet so inconspicuous.
Focussing like this means this films P.O.V. is nearly entirely of the German (indeed, the narration is needed to stop it being entirely so). This may be partly to lure us in to understand his world, even accept him; it challenges us to identify with who are should be opposed to. Note this also in that we get his P.O.V., even on the other characters (they are seen side-on/ from above). We are pulled back to the French in some of the film’s most powerful moments.
The lighting here is interesting; usually dappled with fire. The fist shot of the German has him as hellishly front-lit (frontlighting=creepy), but as it goes on, we see him, like the French backlight, face in darkness, softer in a way. A mix of these is achieved throughout.
This film asks us to, at times, sympathise with an agent of terror. This is done while at the same time he is condemned; for every sweetly idealist/ genuinely true phrase, there is one that is unmistakably a horror. He comes to be seen as naive; it is a little worrying if we are asked to think ‘they’re all good inside’, a tough message to get across, but this film clearly, though it certainly strains that way, tries to avoid it, with the other enemies. Perhaps it plays better when practical action was over; at the time, it seems a message almost too nuanced (this is a tough criticism to make).
The close-up near the end is quite stunning, and the near-final shot of the uncle, straight on, is literally and figuratively powerfully direct. This film is sharp but deep; a slice (82 minutes) straight through a world. An excellent picture.