Les mystères de Paris (1935): A dusty, tangled dive into the gutter

Is it worth the time?

Honestly, only if you’re a real completist for 1930s French melodramas. If you want something snappy or well-paced, stay far away. It’s for the folks who like staring at old architecture and waiting for characters to finally stop talking so something can actually happen.

If you're looking for the punchy, fast-moving energy of something like Claude Duval, you won't find it here. This movie is heavy. It's like wearing a wet wool coat.

The vibe

The whole thing feels like it’s shot through a veil of thick, Parisian smog. The sets are clearly sets, but there’s a weirdly charming artificiality to them that I kind of dug. Madeleine Ozeray is doing a lot of heavy lifting with her eyes, carrying that classic 30s look of permanent, tragic distress.

There is a scene in a tavern that goes on for an eternity. The extras are just milling about, looking confused, like they’re waiting for the craft services table to open. One guy in the background is clearly trying to look busy by wiping the same spot on a table for three full minutes. I couldn't stop watching him.

The plotting is, well, it’s a lot. It’s like Eugène Sue wrote a million pages and the director just grabbed handfuls of scenes and threw them at the wall. Characters pop in and out without much explanation. Sometimes you’re in a high-society parlor, and then boom, you’re in a damp basement being yelled at by a guy in a rags.

The good and the bad

• The lighting is surprisingly moody. Some of the shadows in the back alleys actually have a bit of teeth to them.
• The dialogue. Oof. It’s very theatrical, very loud, and very prone to long speeches about destiny.
• The pacing makes me feel like I’ve aged a year in the span of an hour.

I found myself thinking about The Night Patrol while watching this, mainly because I wanted the same kind of straightforward, no-nonsense tension. Instead, Les mystères de Paris just wants to be grand and sweeping. It succeeds at being grand, but mostly in the way a broken clock is still right twice a day.

There’s a moment near the middle where the main protagonist just stops to stare at a fountain for way too long. It’s supposed to be a moment of deep reflection. To me, it looked like the actor just forgot his line and was waiting for the director to yell cut. It stayed in the final edit, so here we are.

It’s not a bad film, really. It’s just... exhausting. If you’re a fan of the source material, maybe you’ll find the nuance I missed. Personally, I was just glad when the lights finally came up. 🕯️