Peter Debruge Chief Film Critic SPOILER ALERT: The following essay discusses key plot points, including the ending. Last weekend, I took in “Le Samouraï” for what must have been the sixth or seventh time, relishing the new 4K restoration of Jean-Pierre Melville’s masterpiece (now playing at Laemmle theaters in Los Angeles).
As I exited the screening, I discreetly eavesdropped on my fellow audience members. Most seemed impressed. A few were still processing what they’d seen: an existential study of a lone killer, told with radically little dialogue. “That wasn’t at all what I expected,” one woman told her friend. “I thought we were going to see some kind of samurai movie.” It’s a reasonable assumption, given the film’s title, although the 1967 crime classic takes place half a world away, in Paris, almost exactly a century after Japan’s samurai era came to an end.
I first saw “Le Samouraï” in the late ’90s, encouraged by a rerelease that touted Hong Kong director John Woo’s endorsement: “The closest thing to a perfect movie that I have ever seen.” We agree on that point (Woo credits the film with shaping both “Hard Boiled” and “The Killer,” and by extension much of Hong Kong cinema), to which I might add that it stars the most handsome actor ever to have appeared on-screen, Alain Delon.
The enigmatic title refers to the main character’s mentality more than his métier: As played by a stone-faced Delon, Jef Costello is a hit man who kills on command.
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