Joy House

Reviewer: James van Maanen
Rating (out of 5): ***½

History has a lot to do with the special appeal of Joy House (titled "Les Felins" in France): the history of its director Réne Clément, of filmmaking at this particular time (1964), and even the history of one of its stars (Lola Albright). Clément will probably always--and rightly--be remembered for two of his films: the quiet, elegant and moving WWII drama about children, Forbidden Games (from 1952; nominated for Best Foreign Film, winner of the NY Film Critics Circle award, as well as the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival) and Purple Noon, a huge international hit that helped put Alain Delon on the movie star map. Clément made other notable films, but none that captured the zeitgeist as did these two.

Mainstream filmmaking in 1964 was in a funk. Mankiewicz's clunky Cleopatra had come and gone the year before, and Goldfinger, the third in the James Bond series, premiered within a month of the Joy House debut. I remember trying to get various friends to understand why the Clément film -- fast, frisky and filled with little touches I hadn't seen before (the quick, subtle camerawork and the bouncing tennis ball that lets us know Delon has been knocked flat; the sudden, speeding train that allows him to escape from his pursuers) -- offered more originality and surprise than did the Bond movie. To no avail, of course.

Then there was Ms Albright. Sexy as hell and what us younger men then referred to as an "older woman," this actress had just made a hot little independent film called A Cold Wind in August that had become the critics' darling the previous year. It looked as if her career might really take off, and Joy House ought to have been the next step in this rise. It didn't happen, and Albright mostly continued doing television and the occasional movie after this. (Cold Windwasn't much, if my memory serves: interesting performances but rather silly and overwrought. It is probably one of those movies that deserves a DVD release just to determine if all that shouting was warranted.)

History aside, Joy House is worth a watch for a number of reasons. The other two leads -- Delon and Jane Fonda -- are working at something close to their best: the handsome, sexy gigolo role was made for this gorgeous actor, and Fonda, in one of her first sex-kitten roles (with a dash of psychosis), looks dynamite and is simply terrific. Clément always used good people on his crew. Costa Gavras, one of his assistant directors here, made his breakout movie The Sleeping Car Murders the following year. Further, Clément's use of the great cinematographer Henri Decaë (who collaborated with most of the best French filmmakers: Truffaut, Cocteau, Chabrol, Melville, Malle, plus Joseph Losey on Eva) produced in this little movie some of the finest black-and-white cinematography of all time. Has foliage ever seemed so lush and verdant in black-and-white? Notice the scene in which Fonda pours the milk: Ravishing. Decaë's gradation of grays is simply unbeatable, and his shot of the newly-polished Rolls-Royce is one you'll probably commit to memory.

The plot's fun, too: fast and full of surprises to keep you alert but with characters who are sleazy enough to warrant whatever happens to them. In fact, Joy House is a kind of morality play offered in the no-apology European style that, back in the early 60s, often left American audiences -- and critics -- confused and a bit angry. As I recall, The New Yorker's Brendan Gill, a very smart and sophisticated fellow who always appreciated a good time, was one of the few critics to praise the film. He counseled his readers to rush headlong to Joy House, and if they didn't take his advice then, the new Koch-Lorber DVD release will provide a second opportunity -- while giving younger audiences the chance to discover the kind of filmmaking that was ahead of its time 44 years ago and still holds up damn well. In a recent IFC post regarding Joy House, Michael Atkinson laments that good films that do not qualify as blockbusters often get lost in the shuffle. Amen.

Note: this new DVD release offers quite a good transfer (except, for some reason, in the opening shot of the MGM Leo the Lion logo) and also gives American audiences their first chance to see the film in its original language, with Fonda (and it sounds like Albright, too) speaking pretty good French. The first scene, however, shot in New York City, features English language spoken plus English subtitles. Not to worry: once the venue switches to the Riviera, it's all French from there on. For those who prefer the spoken English version, it's included here, as well.