Weekend à Zuydcoote

Set in June 1940, Henri Verneuil’s Second World War film depicts the struggle of British and French soldiers in their attempt to escape across the channel under constant bombardment from German fighter planes. Across the duration of a weekend in the northern coastal town of Dunkirk, we are privy to their desperate plight for survival.

On the one hand, Verneuil’s film is typical of the grandiose, high-action commercial feature, with the suited background of war to tell its epic tale. The budget is big, the extras many, the period décor ostentatious, and the film is lavishly shot. Indeed, Weekend à Zuydcoote was another box office hit for its director, who became synonymous with high returns for the studio bosses. On the other, this is one of Verneuil’s most intimate and low-key films, which deftly evokes the personal stories, fears and foibles of its characters. The combination makes for an overwhelming viewing experience, and the film sadly never received its deserved recognition outside France.

Auteur and Nouvelle Vague works export better than the commercial successes in France, however, Verneuil’s film arguably serves as a bridge between the two, marrying the high-budget entertainment factor with personal touches and experimental bravura, in a manner akin to the likes of Hitchcock, Ford and Hawks, so revered by French critics of the time.

The inclusion of Jean-Paul Belmondo epitomizes this potential. Although better known for his work with auteurs such as Godard or Melville (Breathless, Pierrot le fou, Le Doulos etc.), the iconic star also extensively straddled the ‘quality’ French cinema, less experimental in form but magnificently realised nonetheless. Indeed, Weekend à Zuydcoote marks the fourth out of eight collaborations between Belmondo and Verneuil, and the actor delivers one of his finest performances. A subtle restraint infuses a vulnerable yet stoic feel into his scenes; in contrast his Godardian comic and debonair creation, here Belmondo proves his dramatic mettle with aplomb.

The surrounding cast competently holds their own in the likes of Jean-Pierre Marielle, Catherine Spaak and Marie Dubois. Melville, Malle and Chabrol regular, Henri Decae’s cinematography is audacious and befittingly dauntless, while Maurice Jarre’s (Doctor Zhivago) arousing score does justice to this sublime adaptation of Robert Merles’ award-winning source novel.