By the time Mississippi Mermaid hit the big screen in 1969, Francois Truffaut had long been established as the doyen of French New Wave cinema casting back to a decade previously when his groundbreaking debut Les Quatre Cent Coups aka The 400 Blows received rapturous acclaim. This was swiftly followed by the Charles Aznavour vehicle Shoot the Piano Player in 1960 and quintessential tragic love triangle Jules et Jim two years later. Having ridden the wave of this new vanguard of film making alongside his compatriot Jean-Luc Godard, Truffaut’s star began to wane with the troubled production of Fahrenheit 451 but he soon re-emerged as cinematic kingpin thanks to the release of 1968’s Baiser Voles aka Stolen Kisses, which saw the return of the much-loved and considerably older Antoine Doniel, protagonist of his 1959 breakout masterpiece, so adeptly played by Jean-Pierre Leaud. 

With his star in the ascendancy again, it only seemed natural that at the turn of the decade two of French cinema’s greatest actors, Breathless’ Jean-Paul Belmondo and Catherine Deneuve of Umbrellas of Cherbourg and Belle de Jour fame, should join forces with France’s most in demand director at the time for a noirish tale of intrigue and obsession. However, sometimes a project that on paper seems so obviously destined for success just doesn’t quite go to plan and while by no means a bad film Mississippi Mermaid is not quite the grand opus that you feel it could have or should have been.

Based on the novel The Bride Wore Black by Cornell Woolrich which Truffaut himself adapted, Mississippi Mermaid is what can only be termed as a ‘colour film noir’ set in the deep wilds of Reunion Island – a French department located in the Indian Ocean. Here, we find Belmondo’s wealthy tycoon Louis Mahé eagerly awaiting both his wedding and the arrival of his fiancée who he has yet to lay eyes on having put his destiny in the hands of the lonely-hearts column. Having been slightly economical with the truth in terms of his financial standing, Mahé has the tables turned on him when Catherine Deneuve’s Julie arrives looking suspiciously different from the picture of the fiancée he had been expecting. But rather than sending her packing following Julie’s altogether feeble explanation, he surrenders to his superficiality, so enraptured by the beauty of this evident stranger, and continues with the wedding as planned. Not entirely surprisingly things start to unravel rather swiftly when his wife absconds with all his cash leading Louis to give chase - his obsession and desire to find the elusive Julie becoming all-consuming.

Mississippi Mermaid noirish qualities are at the forefront of this tale, Truffaut adopting many of the mainstay tropes of the genre – the femme fatale, sex, death, murder, intrigue, obsession, while shifting setting from the customary dimly lit urban backstreets to the illumination of the tropical sun, the world-weary private investigator replaced by the (initially) less sceptical, positively hopeful, millionaire. And it’s a film whose narrative twists and turns, rarely taking the obvious course and for that Truffaut’s adaptation must be commended. But while inspired by legendary director of La Grande Illusion and Les Regles du Jeu Jean Renoir - references to whom are both implicit and at other times unequivocal, Mississippi Mermaid doesn’t get anywhere near those heights, lacking the tension needed to make this a truly engaging piece of work both in terms of the story and our connection with the two protagonists – something I would suggest it largely due to the performances or more accurately, the casting. Catherine Deneuve is perfectly decent in her role as the enigmatic and simultaneously vulnerable yet resilient Julia, but Belmondo as the doting lover, ready to accept whatever is put on him in the name of love just doesn’t quite ring true and the chemistry between the two leads suffers, ultimately detracting from the story’s overall credibility.

I would say that there is much to enjoy here and wouldn’t encourage avoiding an important part of Truffaut’s canon but it’s not a film that calls for frequent revisits in the same way as say Les Quatre Cent Coups. That being said, this is a lovely new edition from Radiance compiled using a high-definition digital transfer and uncompressed audio which contains not only an audio commentary by the film critic Glenn Kenny, but three excellent bonus features including a thirty-minute interview with the director himself. Dating back to 1969 - around the time of the film’s release, Truffaut discusses everything from male actors’ faces, his suspicion of radical politics to his ability to write good female roles and provides a fascinating insight at a time when the director was arguably at his peak. Even more fascinating perhaps, is the all too short interview with legendary director Jean Renoir rather pleasingly located in his house and taken from the same year, where he expresses his pure admiration and respect for Truffaut as a director touching on the nuances of their friendship and (lack of) conflict. French cinema expert Ginette Vincendeau’s critical analysis of the film gives us a more contemporary perspective with her own insights and deep knowledge, making for stimulating viewing.

 Mississippi Mermaid is a good film. An enjoyable watch that looks great and captures two of the greatest French actors of their generation at the height of their fame, but you can’t help but wonder what could have been.