An example of Litvak’s breathtaking early mastery, the titular Lilas is a prostitute suspected of having committed a murder. An undercover police inspector poses as a common worker out to dig up the evidence to convict her, only to fall in love with her. The transition from the sunny playfulness of his previous film to a tale of doomed love and crime was gradual as there was still song and dance in this, his first fully French production. Litvak subjects his characters to an amorous, swirling camera (the work of German cinematographer Curt Courant), relishing their fickle joys. Two smaller roles were given to then unknown Jean Gabin and Fernandel. By the time the film was released a year after production, Gabin was a rising star and the producers gave him top billing on the poster. He deserves it. He steals the show as soon as he appears.
Cœur de lilas opens with glorious crane shot of a military parade, slides over bridges, and runs along passing trains. In a miniature of the world on the move, children with paper helmets imitate the soldiers. The movement and length of the shots in this ten-minutelong sequence are in sync with the rhythm of the march and a blind organ grinder’s tune. Even the power cables that cut the smoggy skyline into parallel lines start to resemble pages of sheet music. A lengthy scene set in the judge’s room with characters walking in and out follows, and a restless camera and rapid editing captures the frenzy that leads to the judge convicting the wrong man. The middle section is set in a working class dive, a hotel frequented by ruffians, jobless labourers and fallen women where songs, cheap booze and thick smoke make the air heavy with lust. Finally, the last twenty minutes deals with the departure of the newly reunited lovers. Pouring rain and a Renoiresque outing make the final revelation – where the inspector holds back tears as he hands over his lover to the authorities – more shattering. The film then cuts back to the opening parade to close the circle. This time, the whistle of a train against the grey silence of the suburb proclaims the end of the day. Originally meant to be directed by Maurice de Canonge, Litvak’s work is a miracle of cinema that gives precedence to atmosphere over story; it heightens emotional impact through the minutest of details rather than attending to the action.

Ehsan Khoshbakht