ElMaruecan82 'Playing the game' as the idiomatic expression meaning 'pretending to' in French. While Elizabeth played the game, Paul 'played the game'. And what a captivating game!A vertiginous ceiling-shot shows the four protagonists visiting their future house, walking on a chessboard-like roof. Like the human pieces of the infamous game whose mastermind is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, portrayed by Nicole Stéphane in a grandiloquent operatic BAFTA nominated performance, as the overly protective sister of Paul, Edouard Dermitte, a 16-year boy with a fragile health. An ambiguous relationship constantly flirting with incest. One of the strangest cinematic pairings. "Les Enfants Terribles" from Jean-Pierre Melville and Jean Cocteau.Emotionnally speaking, "Les Enfants Terribles" plays as a succession of build-ups, twists and climaxes, guided by the beautiful sound of Bach and Vivaldi's Concertos, plunging you in the confusing mix of emotions that inhabit the hearts of Elizabeth, Paul, and their friends who undergo their caprices with a remarkable patience. The sound of violins takes your soul and transports you in the middle of a hypnotic nonsense when the narration from Jean Cocteau tries to enlighten us on what should rather be kept secret, the whole movie is about secrets, deadly and dangerous but did we need to hear what was going in the hearts or the souls of these twisted individuals while their actions, their expression were more eloquent? The film belongs to the theater world, which is even more spectacular on a cinema's screen, it conveys a sense of disturbing intimacy between Elizabeth and Paul who love to argue so much that they fail to hide how needy they are -in fact- to each other. Elizabeth is the tempestuous 'Yin' to Paul's tormented 'Yang', the mother, the mistress, the friend, enslaving Paul in a relationship to which he can only react through sarcasm and irony, to better hide this discomfort. In fact, the only self-confident character is Elizabeth, the one who pulls the emotional strings of every one, echoing the discomfort of the viewer. But once you get used to that discomfort, "Les Enfants Terribles" becomes the mirror of its own emotions: unpredictability, zaniness, theatricality, where even the artistic conflict between the two film-makers have ironically served the film's artistry and unique sensation. Cocteau's prose is nuanced and monotonous while the characters are deliberately over-the–top, when the movie could have been 'good' by classic standards, it became disturbing to the level of genius and making you realize that it's no use to rationally analyze something that invites to spontaneously let the emotions dictate your feelings. "Les Enfants Terribles" is an exhilarating experience, a kaleidoscope of emotions that creates a harmonious symbiosis between every form of artistic expression : music, theater, literature, it looks artificial sometimes, but it's so gutsy and brave that any attempt to decorticate the meaning of one scene separately is vain and pointless. The whole package works, the opening is intriguing, what follows disturbs, and the ending leaves with you a "wow" feeling that requires catching your breath before reconsidering what you saw. Nicole Stéphane IS over the top in the same perfect intensity that turns her into the secret daughter of Norma Desmond (from a masterpiece of the same year). She's so absorbed by her exclusive lust toward Paul that she can't behave normally without betraying her true nature, the only way to manipulate is to keep this exuberant feel as the right vehicle of her inner emotions.And Elizabeth is such an omnipresent character, almost God-like, that one should consider her as part of Paul's persona, and this is the only way to appreciate Dermitte's performance. While he could be seen as a lousy, or too histrionic actor, I feel there's something deliberately missing inside him, as if half of his soul belonged to Elizabeth, keeping it secretly among the various objects that constituted the treasured bric-a-brac. Look at his mouth, like paralyzed, unable to express one positive emotion, Paul rarely smiles and his smiles are not convincing because Nicole possesses the best of him, and his doom is that he ignores this or 'plays the game', even when his most feminine part inspires his male crush. Elizabeth and Paul are the same persona, and the film carries many Bergmanian undertones ... even illustrated in the poster.The dazzling black-and-white cinematography conveys the bizarre aspect of this duality. There's a beautiful shot of Paul sleepwalking on the stairs, appearing all in shadows like a ghostly figure only capable to escape from Elizabeth and emerge from the light when he's asleep, as if his subconscious was the only refuge from the doom that would lead to his demise. The surrealistic aspect gets more palpable as the movie progresses: in a beautiful dream sequence, Paul walks backwards solemnly as if Nicole managed to bring him back under her power, which she did by conjuring the only thing that could have deprived her from Paul, his love for Agathe. But Paul by sending the letter to himself, instead of Agathe, signed his own death warrant, proving that he couldn't see his life with anyone but him, with this very part of him cruelly belonging to his sister.That was Paul's tragedy and Elizabeth is the Goddess. The film borrows many elements from the Greek mythology, so cherished by Cocteau, and sublimated by the noir genre to which Melville would give its letters of nobility. Paul and Elizabeth's fates were already traced, they could live in the biggest room ever, there would be no room for Gérard, and certainly not Agathe, who unmasked Elizabeth's villainous side. Were the actors too old for these parts? No, their troubling Aryan blonde and curly hair with intense azure eyes and their marble statue-like beauty reminded of the forbidden love between Electra and Orestes with the noir direction underlining the troubling effect of their games ...... are they adult playing like kids, or kids playing adult games … does it really matter?

Hitchcoc This movie really creeps me out. I have trouble getting past the incestuous relationship of the principle characters. Once it established that they have this sexually tense thing going, sleeping in the same room, at each other's throats one minute, loving the next, I was able to look at it as a portrait of a kind of sickness, a sickness of the mind. It also has one of the most villainous characters ever portrayed in the cinema. It builds a continuous movement toward self destruction and annihilation. The acting is superb but I could barely look at the two. One part was the fact that a man who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties was supposed to be sixteen years old. The sister looks to be about thirty. Still, once I got over this, it totally captivated me. Anyway, I need to explore more of Melville's film to see where this led.

R. Ignacio Litardo It took time to build, but when things got really rolling, I felt things could not happen otherwise. The settings and actresses are truly fine. The musical score, simple and obsessive, is perfect for this almost naive plot of youth angst "avant la lettre". The final monologue of Elizabeth about "how we have to make our lives ugly, unlivable" is worth many bad French Literature we "ought to read".While I cannot say it has any meaning, the "form" of this movie is so good one just forgets. I agree with Amazon's Tom Keogh that it may be "a harbinger of pop narcissism", I thought exactly the same. Some images are beautiful, like Liz moving in the garden with barren trees and a cloudy sky, prodding elegantly in a house that doesn't belong to her. Doug Anderson on Amazon wrote a good summary and a great line: "the unwholesomeness of the bond is immediately apparent" "little blonde fascist versions of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton-". The thread he and another reviewer have is interesting. I pinch from there my end line: "In film the "how" is everything".

danielhsf I saw this twice in a single day. And couldn't stop watching this after. Each time I start watching a Hollywood movie I can't help but surrender back to this surrealist nutjob where nothing is really definable.Much of the literature I've read on this focus on the unlikely collaboration between Jean Cocteau and Jean-Pierre Melville, with most putting it in context of Cocteau's other films. But I've always thought that Cocteau's Orphée, made during the same period, feels static and leaden amidst the classical style of its 50's direction. Les Enfants Terribles, while retaining a very classical premise, is completely revolutionary, resembling the unruly romanticism of Rimbaud's poetry. Nothing in the film stays the same - everything is constantly shifting; dyamics are constantly changing; even the sets change in subtle ways. Everything is made purposefully ambiguous and ambivalent such that paradoxes and contradictions abound in a single emotion. But ultimately, as all great Melvillian films are, the film is about the futility of humanity in the face of life and death.I could go on and on about this movie; Melville is truly one of the great poets of cinema.