Superficially, Jean-Pierre Melville’s Army of Shadows isn’t too dissimilar from the gangster movies the director is famous for: it is a chilly meditation on a world inhabited predominantly by men following a grim, unforgiving code. Trust is rare, paranoia habitual – but there are islands of friendship and absolute loyalty, so that betrayal, if and when it strikes, is all the more tragic. And yet: even if the protagonists of Army of Shadows resemble the cops and robbers of Le samouraï or Le cercle rouge, even if they live their lives according to similar rules, they are heroes in ways that Melville’s gangsters aren’t. Their goals aren’t self-serving. They fight the Nazi occupation of France.
So why does their fight feel so unheroic?
It’s not that Melville depicts the enemy that the Résistance members fight with any ambiguity. The film’s Germans aren’t Le silence de la mer‘s Lieutenant von Ebrennac. They aren’t even characters, nor do they need to be. They are invaders, violators, and it is clear that they must be fought, if necessary to the death. The fight is obviously necessary and good, but it is never epic, and fighting it carries a heavy cost. Early in Army of Shadows, its main character, Philippe Gerbier (Lino Ventura), escapes the Gestapo, killing a German guard, in a scene that, in a different film, would be played as thrilling. Here it is desperate and quick, it is not dwelt on. Only a little later, Gerbier is involved in another killing: he, together with other members of the Résistance, puts a young French man to death who betrayed him. Their motive is clear, their actions are justified; nonetheless, the killing is portrayed by Melville, and experienced by those doing the killing, as murder. This is not the fight against the Nazis as a boys’ own adventure. The fight is necessary, even just, and yet it is corrosive to the souls of these men.
What women there are don’t fare much better: next to Gerbier, the film’s most memorable character is Mathilde, played by a firmly middle-aged Simone Signoret. Mathilde may seem matronly at first sight, but she is perhaps the only member of the Résistance in the film to indulge in a certain flair, a kind of panache, bringing out an unexpected and engagingly girlish quality in Signoret. The men who work with her adore her, and it is clear why: Signoret makes an unlikely but appealing heroic figure among these men who know that they and their comrades are doomed. She has a fire that has burnt out in the others – which is why her eventual fate hits the hardest. We knew the others were doomed, just as they do themselves – but we hoped she wasn’t. But Army of Shadows isn’t the kind of world where hope wins out over doom; that kind of victory can only come later, afterwards, and one way or another, the film’s characters are unlikely to ever enjoy it.
Verdict: There is an almost John le Carré quality to the world Melville depicts. Ventura’s Gerbier is not too dissimilar from a George Smiley in that he believes in the cause he fights for, but is no longer able to feel it. There is an almost catatonic quality to the fatalism Gerbier and his companions embrace. They must do what they do, but they are resigned to being destroyed in the process. It is not so much a question of whether they will lose their friends, their lives, everything: it is a question of when and how. They need to forfeit their own humanity to be good at what they do, and dying at the hands of the Gestapo may not be the worst that can happen to them. All of this makes Army of Shadows a grimmer watch than Melville’s other films; his classic gangster movies are as fatalistic, but they also offer the enjoyment of competence porn with their consummate professionals and their daring heists. The protagonists of Army of Shadow are competent, but their fight has a desperation that the existentialist cops and robbers fare of Le samouraï or Le cercle rouge doesn’t quite have, and the price of failure is immeasurably higher. But the grimness pays off: I cannot imagine a more effective, more chilling drama about the exploits of the Résistance, nor the steep cost of their fight.
A Damn Fine Cup of Culture 
Interested in fact based espionage and ungentlemanly officers and spies? Do read “Beyond Enkription” by Bill Fairclough – it is the first stand-alone fact-based espionage novel of six autobiographical tomes in The Burlington Files series. As the first book in the series, it provides a gripping introduction to the world of British intelligence and espionage. It is an intense electrifying spy thriller that had me perched on the edge of my seat from beginning to end. The twists and turns in the interwoven plots kept me guessing beyond the epilogue. The characters were wholesome, well-developed and intriguing. The author’s attention to detail added extra layers of authenticity to the narrative.
In real life Bill Fairclough aka Edward Burlington (MI6 codename JJ) was one of Pemberton’s People in MI6; for more about that see a brief News Article dated 31 October 2022 published in TheBurlingtonFiles website. The series follows the real life of Bill Fairclough (and his family) who worked not only for British Intelligence, but also the CIA et al for several decades. The first tome is set in 1974 in London, Nassau and Port au Prince: see TheBurlingtonFiles website for a synopsis.
Fairclough is not a professional but his writing style is engaging and fast-paced, making it difficult to put the book down as he effortlessly glides from cerebral issues to action-packed scenes which are never that far apart. Beyond Enkription is the stuff memorable spy films are made of. It’s raw, realistic, punchy, pacy and provocative. While the book does not feature John le Carré’s “delicate diction, sophisticated syntax and placid plots” it remains a riveting and delightful read.
This thriller is like nothing we have ever come across before. Indeed, we wonder what The Burlington Files would have been like if David Cornwell (aka John le Carré) had collaborated with Bill Fairclough whom critics have likened to “a posh Harry Palmer”. They did consider collaborating but did not proceed as explained in the aforementioned News Article. Nonetheless, critics have lauded Beyond Enkription as being ”up there with My Silent War by Kim Philby and No Other Choice by George Blake”.
Overall, Beyond Enkription is a brilliantly refreshing book and a must read, especially for espionage cognoscenti. I cannot wait to see what is in store for us in the future. In the meantime, before reading Beyond Enkription do visit TheBurlingtonFiles website. It is like a living espionage museum and breathtaking in its own right.