Un condamné à mort s'est échappé/A Man Escaped (Robert Bresson)
Gaumont has announced Robert Bresson's Un condamné à mort s'est échappé ou Le vent souffle où il veut (1956) (English: A Man Escaped or: The Wind Bloweth Where It Listeth) for release in Gallic territories on 25 March 2010.
Thanks to Kynch for this original post on Gaumont's 2010 release slate; I felt that this film needed its own thread as well.
EDIT (17 March 2010): Release date changed to 18 May 2010. Preliminary info indicates English (and French HoH) subtitles.
The French film director, Robert Bresson, is an extraordinary artist in his realm. He makes his pictures with patience, simplicity and the uncompromising devotion of a saint. This was clearly demonstrated in his mystical and austere "Diary of a Country Priest." It is evident again in his "A Man Escaped," known in France as "Un Condamné à mort s'est échappé," which came to the Baronet yesterday.
Here concentrating his attention upon the quiet resolve of a French Underground prisoner to escape from a Nazi jail during the wartime Occupation, M. Bresson spends an hour and one-half detailing the prisoner's painful preparations and then his perilous execution of the break.
It is a raw, lean, mechanical operation, beginning with the man's unblinking realization that he must get himself out of that prison or certainly be put to death, and continuing with his patient calculation and accumulation of the means to get away.
He steals a spoon, makes a tool of it, opens a secret portal out of his cell and then scouts among the other prisoners to learn the best avenues of escape. From an unsuccessful escapee, he hears that there is a moat over which he must pass before gaining freedom. For this, he must make himself a rope.
So, with a searching eye to detail, M. Bresson documents the enterprise, looking often at the face of the prisoner to comprehend his deliberate, desperate moods. And so, through a train of tense experience, we are brought to know the fervor of the man—the fervor of a condemned man for freedom—and the grim, suspenseful trial of his escape.
The picture is based upon an actual account of a prisoner's break from Fort Montluc in Lyons, where, we are told, much of this film was made. The claim is credibly supported by the severity of the scene. And the appearance and behavior of the prisoners are easy to believe.
François Leterrier as the principal character is impressively gaunt and engrossed, giving a sure, integrated performance that makes it hard to accept the report that he is an amateur. If so, an exceptional credit must be given the direction of M. Bresson. Charles Leclainche as a second prisoner who is threaded into the escape also plays with remarkable realism.
This is not the sort of picture that one should view without knowing what it is. The strain is hard and the reward is limited. But it is a fine reflection of a cruel experience.