Le scandale: A messy, old-school soap opera

Should you watch Le scandale today? Honestly, probably not unless you are a die-hard fan of French pre-war cinema or have a weird obsession with 1930s hotel billing drama. If you enjoy vintage melodrama where everyone acts like their life is ending every five minutes, you might get a kick out of it. If you want something that moves or feels grounded in reality, you will likely find yourself checking your phone about twenty minutes in.

The whole thing hinges on a woman deserting her husband for a guy who is clearly bad news. She hands over her jewelry to pay for a hotel bill, which is the kind of reckless, panicked move that makes you want to reach into the screen and shake her. It feels like a precursor to the kind of frantic energy you see in The Unpardonable Sin, just with more hats and cigarette smoke.

There is this one scene involving a piece of jewelry that just drags on forever. I swear, the camera stays on the necklace for so long that I started counting the dust motes in the air. The director, Marcel L'Herbier, really wants you to understand the weight of her betrayal, but it just feels like we are waiting for a bus that is never coming.

The husband’s reaction is… well, it is something else. He toggles between being saintly and being absolutely unhinged, sometimes in the same sentence. It reminded me a bit of the frantic, uneven mood swings in Poor, Dear Margaret Kirby. You never quite know if he is going to hug her or throw a vase.

Odd bits and pieces:

• Gaby Morlay is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. She is basically playing the entire movie on her shoulders while everyone else just poses.
• The hotel lobby set looks like it is held together by tape and prayers.
• There is a background extra in the third act who clearly forgot he was supposed to be looking sad. He is just staring at the wall. I couldn't stop watching him.
• The dialogue is incredibly sharp, but delivered with the volume of someone shouting across a train station.

It is not a masterpiece. It is barely even a cohesive story half the time. But there is something strangely hypnotic about how seriously these people take a hotel bill. It is far less charming than the caper vibes in The Ghost Camera, but it has that weird, specific intensity that only these old dramas seem to have.

I left the movie feeling like I needed a nap and a stiff drink. It’s a relic, for sure. Sometimes that’s enough. 🎭