Van Horn lives and rules in 1925 forever.
Ten Days of Wonder is a film by Claude Chabrol based on a mystery novel by Ellery Queen, the pseudonym of two cousins who produced a stream of very popular mystery tales and products in the 40s and 50s. Chabrol said he became an avid fan during the German occupation of France: I don’t share his love of mysteries – even Poe’s tales of deduction leave me cold – but I liked this film a lot. It’s a weird gothic tale with a soundtrack by Bach.
I find it hard to grasp the notion of Chabrol getting the idea to make a movie of a Queen book, but, like any culture-struck Yank, I guess French means Art to me. On their side of the sea, they are fascinated by our pop culture – Jerry Lewis, murder mysteries, noir, and detectives. I don’t quite get it, and thus, the New Wave of French Cinema leaves me cold. Funny, this issue doesn’t come up for me with Hitchcock, another cinematic artist who was at home with the whodunnit, and to whom Chabrol has a close connection.
In the film, the elder van Horn (Orson Welles) lives in splendid isolation in an Alsatian manor, and likes to pretend it’s 1925 – everything was good then. His drunken mother hangs out in the attic. His adopted son, Charles (Anthony Perkins) worships him, but has a father complex, as well as a passion for his young stepmother, a pretty, lithe thing that God, …er Dad, rescued from rural poverty and then married. She worships him too, of course, but loves Charles.
The two lovers fear the wrath of Father and are being blackmailed by an unknown caller who is in possession of some love letters that Charles sent. After the second money drop, I figured out the identity of the blackmailer – am I good with voices or was I supposed to know? – but since I don’t care about cinematic exercises in deduction, it didn’t matter to me.
Charles, poor stressed-out boy, is subject to blackouts now and then that last for days, and he fears he may kill someone during one of them. He invites Paul Regis (Michel Piccoli), his former professor, to the manor to try and help sort things out. Paul’s renowned logical mind can surely produce some light in his darkness, and he consents to play the part of the Ellery Queen detective figure in this drama.
I have never read an Ellery Queen, and this plot doesn’t make me want to start now. Ah…but in this film, the entire story is a complex fabric of themes related to patriarchy, oedipal frustration, sin, repression, arrogance, Original Sin, and more…There’s something about these lapsed Catholics (Chabrol was one) – the old black magic never quite lets go. The film seemed to me to be two running parallel at once – the weird psycho-drama, and the tedious detective story. Clearly Chabrol is someone I must investigate further. The only film of his I know is La Ceremonie.
The stills below are from the mesmerizing sequence when the elder van Horn/Yahweh (Welles) exacts his terrible revenge on his young wife, Helene (Marlène Jobert)
This sequence recalled to my mind another strange film that involves a mad, arrogant, male god-figure who dispatches passive beautiful women using a straight razor with balletic finesse, The Night of the Hunter.
On the DVD, there is a comment by Chabrol that is something like, “What I like is beautiful women being sliced with razors in circumstances très distinguées.” Hmm…and that chilling blue!