The Night of the 12th captivates with contrasts and colour
New murder mysteries are abundant this month with Amsterdam, See How They Run and Decision to Leave, but French film The Night of the 12th (La nuit du 12) distinguishes itself from the pack with its sophisticated style – which is both its saviour and executor.
César Award-winning director Dominik Moll and co-writer Gilles Marchland’s (Harry, He’s Here to Help) screenplay adapts part of Pauline Guéna’s non-fiction book, 18.3 – Une année à la PJ. The film tells the story of Yohan (Bastien Bouillon), a recently-promoted police captain, who discovers that every investigator has an unsolved case that haunts them. For Yohan, the murder of 21-year-old Clara (Lula Cotton-Frapier) is that case. One interrogation follows another until, with no shortage of suspects, Yohan develops a nagging obsession. Only one thing is for certain: the crime occurred on the night of the 12th.
Patrick Ghiringhelli’s simple cinematography ignites the screen. Set in the South of France, intimidatingly beautiful mountains against a blue sky create a suspicious contrast with Olivier Marguerit’s (Méduse) eerie score as we are taken to the crime scene. Ghiringhelli does not lack creativity, as evident with clever reflection shots and effortless framing, but what makes his work so attractive is knowing when to release that creativity and when to pull back. The moody lighting and Laurent Rouan’s (Moll and Marchland’s Only the Animals) artful, montage-like editing gives the murder mystery an almost cosy feel – teasing us, who believe we know better.
Symbolism can be found in the purr of a cat, the lap of a bike, the blue thread of a sweater. Geniously, Moll evokes a sense of security with the colour blue through costuming and production design. If the predominately blue room at Nanie’s work doesn’t get your aesthetic meter tingling, the judge (Anouk Grinberg) apologises to Yohan that her office is unwelcoming – here, red folders are strewn across her desk. Moll creates unease through symbols and a meticulous care for mise-en-scène.
“Maybe none of them is the killer. But each one could’ve done it” – Yohan, The Night of the 12th
Lead actor Bouillon (Jumbo) has a boyish charm that puts him at odds with Yohan’s new position as captain. His casting ups the stakes as the audience is left wondering if he is the superstitious “black cat” that curses the determined team with bad luck.
Twenty-five-year-old Pauline Serieys brings a frustration of culture to the surface of Nanie’s grief. As the best friend of Clara, Nanie cooperates with the police, answering their questions carefully in the hope of seeking justice. She is the one who points out, in a much-needed emotional release in the second act, the implicit victim blaming that has been occurring in front of her and behind closed doors. “Want to know why she was killed?” she asks the police captain. “Because she was a girl.” Not because of what she was wearing or how many men she dated. This is what socially-focused Moll voices through her, and his feminist concerns only get louder from here.
Later, we meet Nadia (Mouna Soualem), the only female officer on the team. She offers a new perspective on toxic masculinity, commenting on her poor experience in what she thought was going to be a highly professional environment. Soualem’s onscreen presence is warmer than the orange glow of the street lamps, leaving us wanting more in a largely blue film.
“Don’t you find it weird, most crimes are committed by men and mostly men are supposed to solve them” – Nadia, The Night of the 12th
Naïve Boris (Julien Frison) is new to the team, but amidst conversations about love at first sight and overtime hours, he contributes to the conversation of male brutality. “Even if women don’t burn, men start the fire,” he says. Tensions rise within the group, adding to the suffocating tone set by the hunt to find Clara’s killer, as a side of aggression emerges from the reserved Yohan and malicious hatred boils over in the passionate Marceau (played by the brilliant Bouli Lanners).
The layered characters, intriguing plot and à la mode visuals make for a captivating watch, but ultimately the match doesn’t catch with an ending that sells us short. But there’s genius behind this empathetic technique, too, as Moll leaves you with the same obsessive feeling that plagues the police captain – and will continue to do so for the rest of his life.