There’s something different about Julie. It’s not just her hair, but her entire features. She has no key to her trunks. When her beloved canary dies, she shows little interest. All this would be of no consequence if Louis didn’t feel he knew her already, as they had been exchanging letters for some time.
As the owner of a tobacco factory, Louis (Jean Paul Belmondo) is a rich man. Seeking a wife, he has finally resorted to mail order correspondence in his search for the perfect woman. When Julie Roussel (Catherine Deneuve) appears, she looks nothing like her photograph. Other discrepancies follow and before Louis knows what’s happening, she has emptied his bank account and made off with his entire fortune.
This is only the beginning of Francis Truffaut’s tale of obsession and the power of love. Although this film has been categorized as “Hitchcockian”(and does have some elements of Vertigo [1958] and Marnie [1964]), it owes much more to one of Tuffaut’s other idols: Jean Renoir, to whom the film is dedicated. Savvy fans will note the similar ending to La Grande Illusion (1937), parallels with La Chienne (1931), and more. There is also a strong connection to Joseph H. Lewis’ Gun Crazy (1949). Tuffaut is also a fan of movies like us and loves to share scenes and billboards of his favorite films throughout.
Deneuve is brilliant as the icy blonde who is beautiful, unattainable, and incapable of love—or so she thinks. Belmondo is the man who will do anything for her—even if it means his death at her hand. The American title is wasted here as the French (La Sierene du Mississippi) more closely aligns the female character with the traditional Greek Siren, luring sailors to the rocks and ultimately their demise. Truffaut’s femme fatale is not impregnable though, and his hero is not of the typical Noir persuasion. In another’s hands, this film could turn melodramatic mush or predictable crime. Truffaut keeps us guessing about his characters motivations and provides stunning camerawork and cinematography. He also uses visuals more often than words, giving us the chance to decipher what’s important here. There is one scene towards the end that I won’t give away, where one of the characters realizes their dire situation simply by reading a cartoon.
Mississippi Mermaid has not achieved the status of Truffaut’s 400 Blows (1959) or Jules and Jim (1962), but it’s definitely one of his most enjoyable works and a great introduction to a man whose love of movies was so intense that he had to become a filmmaker, but never stopped being a fan. In that sense, we share kinship with him and perhaps this explains why his films touch us so deeply.
