You
see a lot of life and death at sea.
Skipper for hire Captain Jacques Cournot is about to see more of both in
The Dictator’s Guns, a hardboiled
caper which screens as part of the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s nearly
complete retrospective for Claude Sautet, who is probably best known to most
cineastes for his highly intimate late career dramas.
Cap.
Cournot has been hired by playboy businessman Hendrix to acquire a sailboat in Santo
Domingo from a little old lady in Pasadena who only sailed her once. However, as soon as Cournot kicks the tires
and telegrams her his offer, the good ship Dragoon disappears under criminal
circumstances. It turns out his boss is
not who he thought he was, nor is his boss’s boss. As for the American widow—she’s no lady, she
is a femme fatale.
Making
haste to the DR, the Widow Osborne more or less clears the captain with the
coppers so she can retain his services tracking her boat. Unfortunately, he does so in rather short
order, bringing them face-to-face with a desperate gang of gunrunners, including
Hendrix, her gutless ex-husband #1, in the cabin of the listing ketch. From here, they are off to Key Largo territory, as the Cap and
widow play the wait-to-pounce game.
Frankly,
this is not a very well thought through scheme, boiling down to the reluctant Cournot
ferrying crates of munitions from the off-kilter boat to a nearby sandbar on
the dinghy. Still, the noir works like a
charm. Hollywood character actor and
onetime San Quentin resident Leo Gordon is like a walking Sam Fuller movie as
the ringleader Morrison. In the lead,
Lino Ventura is like a Lino Ventura character, except perhaps more
likable. Indeed, his Cournot is not a
world-weary drifter. He seems to quite enjoy
flirting and partying with the other carousers flocking to Santo Domingo’s
night spots. His expatriate life
actually looks like fun, except for the part where he is held captive by arms
smugglers.
Sylva
Koscina (veteran of a legion of sword & sandal flicks) adds a bit of nostalgic
appeal as the Gabor-ish Osborne, also getting down to business rather gamely in
the big shootout-siege. Walter Wottiz’s
moody black-and-white cinematography is a pleasingly noir, as is the crime-jazz
soundtrack co-composed by big band leader and record producer Eddie Barclay
(for whom Quincy Jones once worked) and his label’s music director Michel
Colombier.
