Stripped
down, this is ultra-smooth thriller from Frederic Forsyth's best seller
about a plot to assassinate French President Charles De Gaulle in the
wake of the Algerian War directed with skill and consummate professionalism
by Fred Zinnemann. From its opening scenes, it is clear that this film
will hold out to the end and even though the outcome is inevitable given
the historical circumstances and situations upon which it is based Fox
does so well you end up thinking he’s really going to kill him.
Assisted
by Kenneth Ross' marvellously basic screenplay, Zinnemann follows the
oldest code of film making in the book and simply shoots what we need
to see for the advancement of the story. Though over two hours in length,
the film is terrifically paced and fast moving, an account of detail
which often seems to resemble a documentary in its determination not
to linger on the faces of actors for the registration of emotion any
longer than is necessary to establish the basic conflicts required to
move on to the next shot.
In
fact it is so clinically executed that many critics have derided its
lack of psychology. This is somewhat unfair, as one of its great strengths
as a thriller is the subtlety with which it portrays the world, on one
hand of a cold but subtly arrogant young hit man (Edward Fox), and on
the other the high pressure world of his main pursuer (Michel Lonsdale).
Each man rises to his challenges with a combination of professionalism
and not undue concern, and each actor gives a minimalist performance
to match. They register just enough character beyond the stone-faced
exteriors both are presumed to have to engage the audience in a delicate
psychological exploration which complements and underlies the intensity
of the fast-moving and pared down narrative. Indeed, it is precisely
this which allows the film's abrupt climax to work, as the moment of
surprise on Fox's face when he misses his target.
The
story is full of vignettes and characters who appear and disappear very
quickly. Rather than a weakness, this turns out to be a positive dimension,
because it increases the sense of scale and provides quiet and simple
insights which serve the plot nonetheless. Rather than dwelling on the
personal conflicts and crises of so many officials and lowlifes respectively,
we are treated to an almost first person perspective on a level of society
most of us would have no contact with anyway and thus rightly seems
alienating and aloof for the most part. We mainly follow the killer
and cop in the manner of the classics of the genre, and the world unfolds
as naturally as it should.
The
Day of the Jackal is interesting on many levels, though it makes no
claims to profundity. It documents a moment in history which captures
the currents of social dissent, charts the moral and spiritual decadence
and emptiness of a number of people who live in it, and explores the
machinery of the state and law enforcement which seeks to control it
all and which is often as morally corrupt as those it nominally stands
above.