Prepare yourself for a good, old-fashioned murder mystery with 8 Femmes: All the different ways a woman can screw over a man.
This movie is an adaptation of a 1950s French play by Robert Thomas, and is spiritually equivalent to a sitcom bottle episode. The head of the household, Marcel, is killed in his sleep during a snowstorm so horrific that all means of escape have been eliminated, and calling for help is useless. Now the eight most important women in his life are tasked with the responsibility of deducing which one of them is a murderer.
Is it his invalid mother-in-law who recently moved into the house to be cared for?
Or his high-strung, hypochondriac, sister-in-law Augustine, who is overly concerned with everyone else’s actions?
Is it his fabulously dressed wife, Gaby, who strides to maintain a high level of wealth and decorum?
Maybe it’s Chanel, the housekeeper who has dutifully served the family for years, but has a secret gambling problem?
Or Louise, a recently hired young sexpot with a mysterious past?
It might be Catherine, his youngest daughter, who always has her nose in a book? Or perhaps his eldest daughter Suzon, who has recently returned from school for Christmas break several pounds heavier, but suspiciously vocal on how she’s maintained excellent grades?
Or perhaps is it his estranged sex-worker sister who is always asking for money?
As the story unfolds, the layers of these women are peeled back like onions. Their relationships with each other and Marcel eventually reveal themselves, as well as their personal motivations for his untimely demise.
I won’t divulge details of the plot, because I don’t want to spoil it. I think everyone should watch this movie and bask in its luxurious glory. The women start off as allies, but as time progresses, their behavior becomes increasingly unhinged. Even when their actions were abhorrent, I still rooted for them because the women in this movie are unbelievably charismatic and captivating actresses. Catherine Deneuve’s glamour just seeped out of her pores. The way she wears clothes gives me the yearning of a child wanting to put on their mother’s coat and shoes and prance around the house. Isabelle Huppert’s facial ticks and loud, sharp outbursts that cut her otherwise restrained persona were absolutely hilarious. Both Fanny Ardant and Emmanuelle Béart made me feel hot underneath the collar due to their effortless antagonization of Gaby. Virginie Ledoyen and Ludivine Sagnier made me annoyed with their characters in similar ways – Virginie with the feigned doe-eyed innocence of someone who is hiding a secret, and Ludivine as the whiny, outspoken younger sister who thinks she knows everything but knows nothing. Firmine Richard’s performance was both hilarious and heartbreaking, balancing the loneliness of feeling ostracized by the family she’s supported for years, but trying her best to stay out of the way and let these crazy ladies tear each other down. And last but not least, Danielle Darrieux’s exasperated reactions to everything that happens and everything she was accused of consistently cracked me up.
The songs in this musical are delightful, and didn’t feel out-of-place in an otherwise straightforward murder mystery. However, they are not original to the film, making this a dreaded jukebox musical. I was unfamiliar with the songs outside of the context of the movie, which made it easy to associate them with parts of the plot. Each woman has their own musical style that fits their character, and when their motivations were called into question, they burst into song to address it. The actresses all have fairly good singing voices, but what surprised me was how uncomfortable they looked during their musical performances.
I’m fairly certain they didn’t rehearse the choreography much, as I noticed several of the actresses looking at each other for their next dance move. Virginie Ledoyen was the biggest culprit of this, with Catherine Deneuve as a close second, which really, really bummed me out. She is explosive while she’s acting, but you can kind of see the thoughts running through her head every time she had to move.
In a similar vein, I really didn’t buy that Pierrette was an exotic dancer, because although Fanny Ardant perfectly embodied the sultry seductress, during her musical number she reminded me of a drunk aunt singing karaoke. When I think of burlesque, I think of Dita Von Teese, where clothes melt off of her like a magician’s sleight-of-hand card trick, not the strong and brazen removal of articles of clothing in this number.
I don’t think these performances needed to be handled by musical theatre veterans, but maybe another day of rehearsals (or perhaps some liquid courage?) might have served them a little better. Not to put it all on the actresses, either, the choreography isn’t all that elegant to begin with. I’m just saying, when I was watching the musical numbers, I kept wondering if the actresses were reluctant to really lean into them because they were afraid to screw it up, or if they hadn’t had enough time to memorize the movements where they felt comfortable enough to make them their own. Based on the behind the scenes stuff I was able to watch, I’m leaning toward the latter. It’s a bad sign when the choreographer has to dance with them behind the camera to remind them of what they’re supposed to be doing.
I had to purchase 8 Women on DVD for $10 because I couldn’t find it anywhere online with English subtitles, and despite my nitpicky quips, this film was worth the price of admission. I was along for the ride the entire time, and aside from the shocking ending that I think tried to venerate a dude who absolutely deserved to die, the story was interesting and captivating. If a campy and emotional whodunit story interspersed with musical respites sounds like your cup of tea, this is absolutely a must-see.
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