The Strangler
Written and Directed by Paul Vecchiali
Starring Jacques Perrin, Julien Guiomar, Eva Simonet, Paul Barge
Unrated
Runtime: 96 minutes
New 2K restoration - Nov 17 at Alamo Drafthouse Cinema Lower Manhattan

by Clayton Hayes, Staff Writer

If you’re trying to pique my interest in a film, there are few sequences of words that would do better than “early ‘70s unconventional French giallo.” Each word is potent on its own, but together they weave a sort of spell that I find myself powerless to resist. Watching such a film isn’t something I want to do but something I need to do, something I’m called to do from the very deepest parts of my being. So it is with Paul Vecchiali’s The Strangler (originally L'Étrangleur), recently restored and seeing a theatrical release in the U.S. for the first time.

The film is a joy to watch almost from the outset, announcing itself with a title sequence done in letters cut from magazines and pasted on gridded paper. It was so delightfully tactile, done almost like animation, inviting the viewer to reach through the screen and run their hand along the pages. That tactility echoes through the film every time Jacques Perrin’s titular strangler, Émile, runs his hand along the crocheted scarves that serve as his weapon. And, like Émile, The Strangler ambles along at an unhurried pace, more interested in the emotional state of those appearing on screen than with sex or violence.

This might come as a surprise because of the giallo label, named for the yellow covers of Italian mystery and crime paperbacks, but then Vecchiali seems to be pulling his literary inspiration from closer to home. The name of Julien Guiomar’s Inspector Dangret, for example, sounds suspiciously close to Inspector Maigret, the pre-eminent detective of 20th century French crime fiction. L'Étrangleur, the film’s French title, is only a few letters different than that of Albert Camus’ classic existentialist novel L'Étranger (The Stranger). The two seem to share some thematic aspects, especially when Émile is questioned about why he kills.

I hope I’m not making it sound too dour; despite the philosophical undertones, Vecchiali’s film is at times quite playful. There is, for example, a full song-and-dance sequence in a nautically themed cabaret that remains without context until after it ends. Another sequence sees Dangret led, in montage, on a scavenger hunt for notes that Émile has planted around town. And, of course, there’s the mayhem that ensues when Émile confuses a sex worker’s patter for the depression of his usual victims. There are even several lovely vignettes of Paris nightlife completely unrelated to the plot except that Émile is somewhere nearby.

These scenes inject a lot of life into what is otherwise a plot-light film, providing a fully-formed world for Émile and Dangret to meander through. Their threads get tangled up with a few others: Anna, played by Perrin’s actual sibling Eva Simonet, is convinced she’ll be the strangler’s next victim. Paul Barge’s unnamed thief shadows Émile to steal from his victims. It’s only at the very end of the film that it becomes clear what sort of web those threads have been weaving, making me question what sort of film I had been watching all along. Perhaps instead of a thriller it was a tragedy all along, but I recommend you give The Strangler a watch and decide for yourself.

As for me, as soon as it ended I wanted to watch The Strangler again. Sadly, none of the theatrical dates are anywhere near me, or I’d be buying my tickets now. Instead I’ll be waiting impatiently for the home release.