Chiqué: A Silent Film's Peculiar Take on 'Fun'

Look, if you're not already into old silent films, *Chiqué* probably won't be the one to convert you. But for those of us who enjoy a peculiar, unsettling dive into early cinema, this one offers a strange, almost uncomfortable charm. Anyone looking for a lighthearted night at the movies should absolutely steer clear. 🚫

The premise is simple enough. We follow this American couple, clearly a bit out of their element, as they hit up a cabaret. They're trying to be sophisticated, but you can tell they're just tourists, you know? The husband, played by Adrien Lamy, has this perpetually wide-eyed look.

During one of the acts, a dancer really goes at his partner. It's aggressive, almost violent. And the manager, with a shrug and a smile, waves it off. "Oh, that's just fun! It's part of the act!"

That little phrase, "just fun," really latches onto our couple. Especially as the wine flows. They get louder, sillier. Their laughter starts to feel a little too forced, a little too frequent. It's a weird shift, watching them go from amused to almost oblivious.

You can almost feel the movie trying to convince you this moment matters, that this misunderstanding is the key. And it really is. Things start to happen around them, little escalating bits of chaos, and they just interpret it all through that 'fun' filter.

There's this one scene where Charles Vanel, who plays another character at the club, gives a look at the American couple that's just *perfect*. It’s a mix of disdain and pity. He seems to be the only one who truly grasps the situation. Everyone else is just part of the escalating absurdity, or too drunk to notice.

Florence, the actress playing the American wife, has some really striking close-ups. Her smile, which started out so bright and curious, slowly morphs. It's not sadness, exactly. More like a dawning horror, but she can't quite articulate it, even to herself. You see it in her eyes, even if the rest of her face is still trying to play along. 🎭

The pacing here is interesting. It's not fast, not slow. It just *is*. The scene goes on about 20 seconds too long at one point, with just the couple's increasingly boisterous laughter. It starts to feel awkward rather than emotional. You really feel their isolation, even in a crowded room.

It's not a film that spells everything out. Instead, it builds this atmosphere of creeping unease. What happens to them isn't some grand, dramatic tragedy, but a slow, almost pathetic unraveling. The 'fun' they're having starts to feel like a trap.

The whole thing makes you think about how easily perception can be twisted, especially with a few drinks. It's a dark little piece of cinema, without being overtly preachy. Just a strange, uncomfortable mirror.

For silent film buffs, or anyone curious about how early filmmakers handled psychological tension, *Chiqué* offers a lot to chew on. Just don't expect a happy ending or even one that makes perfect sense. It’s more about the feeling it leaves you with. And that feeling? It lingers.

Didja notice?

• The way Adrien Lamy's character keeps adjusting his bow tie? Almost like he's trying to hold onto some kind of decorum.
• One of the background extras just looked so unbelievably bored during a really intense moment. Like he'd seen it all a hundred times. 😂
• The flickering lights in the cabaret really add to the unsettling mood. They're almost alive.
• The specific way the manager pronounces "fun" when he explains the dance. It sounds almost menacing.