The Last Metro

Truffaut’s multi-award winning masterpiece is not just a homage to people’s resistance during Nazi-occupied France in 1942 but a love-letter to the world of theatre per se – here seen through the eyes of the owners and actors of the Théatre Montmartre and the on- and off-stage challenges they are presented with during a decidedly anti-Semitic climate and the ever–present danger of possible traitors among those willing to carry on regardless despite newly imposed censorship regulations.

Walking along a street in the Montmartre district, a young woman is pestered by actor Bernard Granger (Gérard Depardieu) who is adamant she accept an invite for a glass of wine in a nearby bistro – only to be sarcastically brushed off by her, denouncing him as a typical example of the male species and – adding insult to injury by handing him her phone number which turns out to be the French equivalent of the ‘Talking Clock’. Disappointed, his continues to make his way to the Théatre Montmartre whose owner (and also actress) Marion Steiner (Catherine Deneuve) is looking for a new male lead for the latest production – a play called ‘Disappearance’ written by a Norwegian playwright and of which, the ensemble is sure, may well fall foul of censorship.
Bernard, an actor who had previously worked at the Grand Guignol theatre playing the part of a skeleton (hard to imagine the stocky actor playing such a role) auditions for the lead but almost leaves the premises when he overhears an argument between producer/director Jean-Loup Cottins (Jean Poiret) and another actor auditioning for the same part who appears to be rejected due to his Jewish heritage. However, when Cottins re-assures Bernard that the actor in question hasn’t been turned down due to his being Jewish but due to the fact that he simply wouldn’t have been right for the part Bernard accepts and is introduced to the theatre’s owner Madame Steiner.

The following day during rehearsals, Bernard meets cast and crew and is perplexed to see the same young woman again whom he had pestered some nights before – she turns out to be Arlette Guillaume (Andréa Ferréol), the production designer who sexually happens to swing the other way though it will take several more attempts by Bernard to seduce her with his roguish charms before he finally realises that Arlette is a lesbian. Other ensemble members are Nadine Marsac (Sabine Haudepin) – a ‘multi-tasker’ juggling several acting jobs at once (much to the chagrin of Cottins) and who eventually ends up having an affair with Arlette.
Then there are elderly Germaine Fabre (Paulette Dubost) – the theatre’s mother hen so to speak who looks after everything from actors to the wardrobe and Raymond Boursier (Maurice Risch), the technician who also trades stuff on the black market and manages to get a huge ham (hidden in a cello case) for Madame Steiner. As far as cast and crew are concerned Marion Steiner’s Jewish husband Lucas (Heinz Bennent) - the actual director the theatre – has left Paris in order to hide from the Nazis but in fact he is residing in the cellar of the building where he can hear everything that goes on during a performance through a rigged heating vent near the stage. Marion, who brings him food and discusses rehearsals with him, is eager to listen to her husband’s advice although it hasn’t escaped Lucas that his wife seems more than smitten with Bernard – even kissing him on the lips during a performance.

Her feelings change however when, after a stinging review by slimy newspaper critic and anti-Semite Daxiat (Jean-Louis Richard), Bernard confronts the journalist during a dinner at a restaurant which had been organized by Marion to celebrate the fact that apart from Daxiat all the other critics are positive towards the new production. Ironically, Daxiat actually praised Bernard’s performance but heavily criticized Marion’s by claiming she should stick to the cinema screen. Furious that Bernard’s angry outburst and physical attack against Daxiat will no doubt jeopardise the theatre’s future, the next few performances are truly challenging as the chemistry and passion between Marion and Bernard has gone. It gets worse when Daxiat (also a Nazi collaborator) informs Marion that her husband Lucas ID-card has been found among the belongings of a man organizing an escape route for Jews, meaning that Lucas must still be hiding somewhere in Paris… Tension mounts when a Gestapo officer (Richard Bohringer) and his assistant search the theatre but thanks to Marion and Bernard’s quick thinking don’t discover Lucas hiding in the cellar. The real shock, however, comes when Bernard informs Marion that she had better start looking for a replacement actor as he is in fact a member for the Resistance group and now is needed more than ever before! As he is about to clear out his tiny dressing room Marion enters to bid him farewell but they end up making love instead.
The story then jumps to the end of the war and a pastiche-like finale informs us of the various fates of the main characters.

The film’s title refers to the curfew which had to be endured during the occupation where countless citizens, due to fuel shortages, flocked to the theatres in order to stay warm but had to catch the last Metro back home. Although the film was written with Deneuve in mind (who is almost in every scene) the story was inspired by the actor Jean Marais’s autobiography which tells of his own experience as a theatre actor during the occupation while director Truffaut’s grandfather and uncle were both members of the French Resistance movement. Ironically, Gérard Depardieu was not initially interested in accepting the role of Bernard Granger as he wasn’t a fan of Truffaut’s style of directing but thankfully he changed his mind after the director’s persistence.

THE LAST METRO is presented in a brand-new 2K restoration available in Blu-ray format as well as Amazon Prime and iTunes. Bonus material includes various audio commentaries (one by Gérard Depardieu and historian Jean-Pierre Azéma, deletes scenes, stills gallery, trailer plus Illustrated booklet (first pressing only).