The Mole, on Eurochannel

Compared to Lino Ventura’s network in Army of Shadows, it looks like Marie-Helene Dumoulin’s “Vaillance” Resistance group had an above-average survival rate. Yet, they are understandably haunted by the memories of their fallen comrades, particularly their charismatic leader Castille. When Dumoulin discovers they were betrayed by an informer, she confronts her fellow survivors, hoping to uncover the truth in Josee Dayan’s The Mole (a.k.a. Marie-Octubre), which premieres this Friday on Eurochannel.

Thirteen years after the war, Dumoulin has built a successful fashion house, named after her Resistance code-name, Marie-Octubre, with the support of her old comrade and current lover, Jerome Massenet. The Vaillance group now spans the social gamut, including a prominent politician, lawyer, and surgeon, as well as a leftist professor, and a failed businessman who is considered little better than a con artist.

Yet, they duly come together to honor Castille. When the eleven are finally assembled (twelve including Massenet’s longtime family servant Clemence), Dumoulin drops her bombshell. During one of her fashion shows, a German buyer rather casually revealed to her his role as a former SS intelligence officer, who received information from a Vaillance turncoat that led to Castille’s death.

Dayan’s remake of the 1959 Julien Duvivier film has the form and tone of an Agatha Christie movie. All the suspects are assembled in one place, where each one’s motives for betrayal are examined one by one. That is also why it is so much fun. Even though it was made for French TV, The Mole is a terrific French thriller. It is particularly intriguing to see how Vaillance group encompassed leftwing and rightwing extremes, who inevitably point fingers at each other, in the wake of Dumoulin’s accusation.

Witchcraft, on Eurochannel

The kind of antisemitic “blood libel” slander you can currently find on tiktok and social media comes straight out of the 13^th Century, so why should we be surprised by modern day accusations of witchcraft? Such rumors dogged Hanna’s missing-and-presumed-dead mother when she lived in this rustic community in northern Germany, so they predictably fall on her too when she returns for a hot, uncomfortable summer in Esther Bialas’s Witchcraft (a.k.a. Hanna’s Homecoming), which premieres tomorrow on Eurochannel.

Hanna’s dad has a serious case of denial. He seems to think nothing will happen if Hanna keeps her head down, spending all her time working for the family’s farm and butcher shop. Yet, even the family employees start bullying her as soon as she arrives, especially the brutish Gunnar. It only gets worse when several of her tormentors (or their pets) experience painful misadventures. She only makes one friend, the mysterious Eva, who is also an outsider visiting family. However, she exerts a questionable influence over Hanna.

If you cannot figure out Eva’s deal after five minutes, you probably have not seen very many genre movies. Nevertheless, Bialas does a decent job maintaining the is-it-supernatural-or-is-it-Scooby-Doo-villainy ambiguity. She creates a creepy atmosphere, especially through the use of the Blair Witch-y sigils that adorn the forest and out-buildings. Nevertheless, there is a simplicity to Lena Krumkamp’s screenplay that betrays Witchcraft’s made-for-German-TV origins.

The Perfect Murderer, on Eurochannel

Kamenar is a homicide detective with a death wish. Even after a lifetime dealing with death, he was unprepared when it came for his family. This case might finally kill him, or possibly lead him towards redemption when he finds himself protecting his late daughter’s estranged friend in Jozsef Pacskovszky’s The Perfect Murderer, which premieres tomorrow on Eurochannel.

Both Kamenar and his wife have essentially given up on life. He is daring every criminal in Budapest to kill him, whereas she is about to enter a convent. Much to his surprise, he discovers his daughter’s former bestie Petra is the prime suspect in a murder. CCTV has her entering the luxury flat before the murder and exiting after, which is a bad look for her. Indeed, his colleague refers to her as, you know, “the perfect murderer.” However, he soon discovers another deleted access to the security system.

For a while, it looks like Kamenar might just keep Petra a captive in his “new” bachelor pad. Yet, he will become her protector when parts of her story check out. In fact, she most likely scratched the real killer, who is presumably out to get them both. He will need someplace secure to hide her, like a nunnery.

Perfect Murderer looks and sounds like it has the makings of a fiendishly twisty thriller, but the ho-hum plotting is predictable and the execution is rather flat. It is easy to guess who the surprise villain is, due to the small cast of characters and Mr. X’s conspicuously weird behavior. Perhaps his predatory pursuit of his implied sexuality also possibly says something about Orban’s Hungary.

By far, the best thing Perfect Murderer has going for it is craggy Zsolt Laszlo’s incredibly hard-nosed performance as Kamenar. He is all grizzled gristle, but, somehow, he makes it believable when Kamenar becomes Petra’s guardian angel. Nora Horich is a convincing hot-mess as the endangered witness. Plus, Gyozo Szabo also adds rumpled grit as Kamenar’s schlubby but possibly dangerous rival, Szabo Ormos.

Tormented Souls

This provincial Austro-Hungarian-era Czech town could relate to a lot of college campuses today. Anti-Semitism is rife, often manifesting in “blood libels.” Consequentially, when a bullying officer is murdered, the local authorities are only too eager to arrest a Jewish man for the crime. However, Superintendent Albert Mondl from Vienna is more concerned with evidence in Jiri Svoboda’s Czech TV-produced Tormented Souls (a.k.a. A Soul to Redeem), which airs on the Euro Channel.

Four years ago, the “heroic” colonel nearly ran over Kacov’s son. When the accused protested, the drunken officer gave him a lashing that left visible scars. Inconveniently, Kacov’s happens to be a kosher butcher, so when someone slashes the Colonel’s throat, the local police automatically arrest Kacov.

Of course, as soon as Mondl arrives, he can tell they have no case. The killer made a messy job of it, unlike a professional butcher’s work. Nobody likes it, but Mondl releases Kacov and proceeds to run a real investigation. However, his attention is diverted by Lea Stein, a gifted violinist, who remains deeply traumatized by her mother’s supposed suicide.

Tormented is an effective portrayal of early Twentieth Century anti-Semitism and an intriguing character study of the principled Mondl. However, screenwriter Vladimir Korner fails to develop the potentially creepy revelation that all three victims were involved in an ambiguously satanic secret society. Instead, it rushes to a forced and unsatisfying conclusion.

The Sound of Freedom, Adapted from Skvorecky

In his youth, Czech novelist Josef Skvorecky was an ardent jazz musician, but playing music from America was a dangerous proposition. However, when bassist Herbert Ward temporarily defected, Skvorecky and his bandmates capitalized (so to speak) on Ward’s “anti-imperialist” credentials to openly play their music. James Bulwer is transparently based on Ward, but Danny Smiricky’s friends will not enjoy much protection from their association with him in Andrea Sedlackova’s The Sound of Freedom, based on Skvorecky’s “Little Mata Hari of Prague,” which airs on the Euro Channel.

Of his band, Smiricky was always the least interested in politics. Nevertheless, he always carried guilt over the misfortunes suffered by his bandmates and their social circle. Frankly, he never really understood why he was spared the worst of it, because guilt and innocence were meaningless under Communism. He might have an opportunity to discover why, when Kunovsky, a former secret policeman, offers to sell him his long-lost file.

Back then (predating the Prague Spring), Smiricky just wanted to play and maybe pursue a relationship with Geraldine Brandejsova. She would be bad news anyway, since her mother is British. To make matters worse, Brandejsova has a friend in the American embassy, for whom she acts as a go-between with an activist priest. Kunovsky and his slimy boss have been assigned to build a case against Smiricky’s band. Unfortunately, their vocalist Marcela Razumowska is the obvious weak point for them to pressure. She tries to protect her friends, even breaking up with Richard Kambala, the trombonist-leader, but the life of her imprisoned brother depends on her providing incriminating evidence.

Although Sound of Freedom was produced for Czech television, it is remarkably mature and achingly tragic. It also has a nice swing-era-appropriate soundtrack that includes a number of arrangements by the great Emil Viklicky. There is also a laughably strident propaganda blues for Bulwer, very much like those Ward warbled, while backed by Skvorecky.