It's hell being bourgeois in a Claude Chabrol film. You might be married to a fine-looking woman like Stephane Audran, and live in a swish modernist pad on the outskirts of Paris, like Charles Masson in this film, but still, it's hell. You're forced into sadomasochistic sex by your lover, and one session ends very badly. So begins the descent into the depths of despair. Every shadow holds doubt and, ultimately, every door is closed except the one marked 'Last Exit'. Morality and justice are non-existent. All you find are perverse forms of forgiveness and acceptance when what you want is punishment according to the rules of civilised society. But you're too cowardly to go to the police, and too racked with guilt to rebuild a life with a devoted wife. There's no priest to confess to, no salvation in religion. Working from the novel by Edouard Atiyah, Chabrol films the dark heart of life without hope and murder without clear motive. There are no answers. There is no meaning to even the worst of crimes. Ultimately, there is only the desire for sleep...
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