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A
young man is driving in the French countryside
at night when he spots a beautiful woman (Brigitte
Lahaie), dressed only in a nightgown, standing
in the road. She tells the driver her name is
Elisabeth but seems confused and frightened. She
insists someone is pursuing her but can't say
whom. She begs the fellow to take her with him,
so he places her in his car and somehow misses
seeing a nude redheaded woman just off the road
calling out to Elisabeth for help. He carries
the girl to his flat in Paris and after questioning
her learns that she seems incapable of retaining
memories for any length of time. He tells her
his name is Robert but she even has trouble remembering
that only a few minutes later. She asks him to
please not leave her alone because she knows she'll
forget him as soon as he isn't there to remind
her of what she has experienced. Magnetically
drawn to each other, the pair makes love in a
tender scene, during which Robert tells Elisabeth
to watch his face so she'll always remember this
time together. But the next morning after Robert
goes to work, Dr. Francis breaks into the flat
and convinces Elisabeth to return with him to
his high-rise clinic where he is treating dozens
of people with her memory deficiency. Once in
the clinic she finds the redheaded girl from the
night before and learns that they can remember
each other's names but little else about their
relationship. The two friends attempt another
escape and manage to contact Robert but are quickly
recaptured. A frantic and lovesick Robert locates
the clinic and is told by Dr. Francis that his
patients are suffering from a disease that slowly
robs them of all their mental functions. The doctor
has been trying to treat them but has had no success.
He explains that, ultimately, all the afflicted
become like the walking dead with no cognitive
abilities. But Robert refuses to believe him and
is determined to rescue his beloved.
The films of Jean Rollin are
unusual in ways that many find off-putting. They
usually meander around colorfully surreal or absurd
images and morbid situations for long stretches
so that it becomes unclear where the (sometimes
thin) narrative is going. They always have a dreamlike
tone that can drive some viewers mad with the
desire to hit the fast forward button. But for
those who share Rollin's sensibilities, these
films are gorgeous and evocative pieces that seem
lifted out of a fascinating other world. The stories
are a mixture of quaint old pulp conventions and
wild sexual excitement that, at its best, blends
into something no one else in cinema really tries.
There are points of similarity between Rollin
and Jess Franco, but where Franco seems more interested
in pumping out as many films as possible, I feel
Rollin has a stronger body of work. Rollin always
seems to have a central idea around which he's
gathering images in the same way a poet will collage
words. He layers quiet, moody shots of beautiful,
melancholy women walking through gorgeous locations
with horrific images of bloody violence in what
seems to be an effort to get beyond the shock
of the juxtaposition and question the feelings
that are provoked. Since the violence is often
linked with sexuality there is a reoccurring idea
in his films that sex is both the beginning and
ending of life. Indeed, in The
Night of the Hunted sex is the only thing
the poor afflicted souls can experience and remember.
This isn't the sex-equals-death
concept of so many American slasher films but
a more European view of sex as a transformative
and healing act even when it's linked with danger.
Rollin's parade of undead creatures are almost
always beautiful but tortured. Unhappy in life
they are just as unfulfilled in death —
but are now
robbed of the choices life afforded. Joy is always
in the past for Rollin's characters and tears
are their only response. In Night
of the Hunted the diseased people aren't
zombies or vampires but are rendered "dead"
all the same. Their tragedy is made all the more
touching by its gradual, degenerative nature putting
me in mind of the victims of Alzheimer's or Parkinson's.
The Night
of the Hunted (La
Nuit Des Traquées) is
often cited as one of Rollin's weakest films but
I don't feel that way. It's famous for its small
budget and two-week shooting schedule, but even
though its extremely low budget is occasionally
evident I think the director stages his story
well enough to hide most of its financial shortcomings.
The performances are not exceptional by any means
but get the job done effectively and the frequent
nudity is a plus that distracts me from a few
of the more wooden actors. In all honesty, the
film could be much worse than it is and I would
still champion it simply because of its inspired
final shot. The image of two defeated and desolate
characters walking away from the camera into the
distance becomes the antithesis of riding off
into the sunset. It's a haunting and deeply effecting
image that stays with me for weeks after every
viewing. As cheaply produced as this film is,
I enjoy it a great deal more than some of Rollin's
more expensive works, with The
Demoniacs being my perfect example of more
being much less. I wouldn't start a newcomer to
Rollin's movies here since it lacks his usual
vampires and phantasms, but it might be a good
second feature to try.
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Redemption/Image's
DVD of the film is as good a presentation as Night
of the Hunted is ever likely to receive.
Even though the 1.66:1 letterboxed image is taken
from the director's own 35mm inter-negatives the
picture still looks worn and often speckled, but
as these are probably the best elements available
in the world, I'm content. The mono soundtrack
is clear and clean often showing the poor quality
of the sound effects work in several scenes. The
movie is presented in the original French with
good, white English subtitles but no other languages
are represented. The disc is fairly no frills
with its only extras being the French trailer
and a slideshow presentation of a few stills,
lobby cards and foreign posters. 3/02/04
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