As they say, revenge is a dish best served cold – but what happens when this concept is placed in the careful hands of a filmmaker known for his warmth and candour? This is only one of the many fascinating elements of La Poison, the hilarious and exuberant dark comedy by French master Sacha Guitry, who tells the story of an unassuming provincial gardener who murders his wife, and instead of being punished for the crime, is hailed as a hero for helping rid his village of one of its most significant liabilities. Guitry, whose career extended from the earliest days of the 20th century on both stage and screen, was an exceptionally talented director whose work has always reflected a keen understanding of the human condition, filtered either through the guise of dignified, heartwrenching dramas or outrageous, bizarre comedies – and in the case of La Poison, we see the director working adopting elements of both, weaving them together to form a wildly funny, but also deeply sobering, social commentary that offers critique on some challenging issues, the kind that would normally be avoided in less-audacious productions. It’s difficult to not fall head-over-heels in love with this film, a provocative and incredibly funny glimpse into the darker side of pastoral life, eliciting as many laughs as it does stir deep thoughts within the viewer – and any director who can make us question the validity of a clear homicide is going to immediately be worthwhile, at least in terms of provoking some truly fascinating moral and ethical questions.

If there is something that simply can’t be said about this film, or the director himself, is that it lacks ambition, with Guitry’s razor-sharp wit manifesting in the brilliant screenplay, and his keen directorial vision finding its way into absolutely every frame. Making a film such as La Poison was likely very challenging – this is a lighthearted comedy centred on cold-hearted murder, especially in how openly the main character speaks about not only his guilt at having killed his wife, but his absolute pride in doing so. This is the kind of premise that would be woefully inappropriate had it not been facilitated by artists who actually knew how to navigate that enormously narrow thematic tightrope, the boundary between provocative satire and tasteless dark comedy. It’s not the bleakest film on the subject of murder where the filmmakers use a tactful but bewildering undercurrent of humour to highlight the misdeeds of the gleefully homicidal main characters, but rather a very warm and charming film that just so happens to orbit around off-kilter conversations relating to murder. The ability to effortlessly balance tone so well, in addition to the sardonic sense of humour that contrasts the more delightful eccentricities, makes La Poison quite a stark film – but for anyone who has encountered Guitry before, it’ll be quite obvious that taking everything at face-value is a dreadful idea, since there is always something simmering below the surface, some malicious twist and turns that add nuance to the story and propel the film to unprecedented heights, all the while keeping it pitched at the same consistently cheerful level.

Michel Simon was one of the greatest actors in the history of the medium (he even claimed that he felt fortunate to have been born in the same year cinema was officially pioneered), and no one seemed to agree with this sentiment more than Guitry, who dedicates a large portion of the opening scene of the film, which takes the form of an elaborate prologue where he showcases everyone involved in the production, to celebrate Simon as the definitive stalwart of French cinema, a position he held for many decades. La Poison is one of his finest performances, with his portrayal of the murderous but otherwise charming gardener being the precise kind of role in which Simon excelled – the blend of earthly everyman candour with his brooding charms made every one of his performances special, especially ones that emphasized his gentle but enigmatic nature. La Poison makes exceptional use of his natural talents, quietly unravelling the character and working closely with the actor to make every quality appear natural. It’s a remarkable performance that grounds the film – the rest of the ensemble is good, and undeniably funny, but like many films produced while the actor was at his peak, La Poison was designed as a vehicle for Simon, who doesn’t waste any time in constructing an unforgettable anti-hero who may be morally deficient, but charismatic enough for us to genuinely invest in his journey, which is certainly an odd one – where else have we seen a character so openly admit to his crimes in an official, logical manner, while still expecting to not pay the consequences through the strengths of his own merits as a human being? It’s certainly a fascinating approach to character-based work, which Simon mastered better than any of his contemporaries, remaining the gold standard of acting for many burgeoning young performers.

Finding the right tone for the execution of the story was paramount to the success of La Poison, which needed to strike the perfect balance between charming comedy-of-manners and haunting dark comedy, since the story depends on both. Guitry wasn’t averse to have a few serious conversations in between hilarious moments – he was someone who honed his craft on stage, so he understood how important dialogue can be in establishing the right atmosphere. Throughout the film, which passes by extremely fast to the point where the viewer yearns to be continuously immersed in this world, we’re privy to some fascinating conversations that are clearly the product of someone who understood social mores and conventions, but had the creativity to abandon logic and embrace his own version of darkly comical satire, where everyone is slightly deranged and reality is off-kilter, to the point where it would be a nightmarish landscape if it wasn’t so endearingly funny. To describe the tone of La Poison is difficult, since it exists somewhere between genres, sampling generously from both which still somehow manages to be effortlessly seamless in its execution, never feeling like it is too frantic in how it balances some of the more challenging material. It’s the primary reason behind the film’s success, since it never falls for conventions in the way other socially-charged comedies tend to do – satire doesn’t age well if there isn’t some deeper context to the story, and Guitry achieves this without any clear difficulty, embracing the simplicity of the story while celebrating its peculiarities at the same time.

There’s a charming element to classic-era French comedies that makes them somehow irresistible. These are films made by artists who have a firm grasp on both the particular thematic concepts that underpin their work, and the fascinating ability to still somehow elevate the story to the point where it becomes timeless. La Poison is situated in a very particular social and temporal milieu, so much that a lesser filmmaker may have produced something that intentionally keeps audiences at a distance – but when looking at a writer and director like Guitry, who allowed the intentions to control the execution (rather than the other way around), you have all the resources necessary for a truly successful, and often quite meaningful, dark comedy. It helps that arguably the greatest French actor of his or any generation was tasked with bringing Guitry’s unforgettable story to the screen (and as a result, Simon turns in one of his most memorable performances, playing on both his everyman charm and ability to capture the most sardonic aspects of the human condition in his characters), turning La Poison into a truly magnificent piece of filmmaking from a director who had a tendency towards these intimate but compelling comedies – and whether we consider it one of manners or errors (or both), it’s difficult to not fall victim to the hypnotic spell of this curiously strange and captivating morality tale that relishes in its ability to be a truly bizarre journey into the darker side of humanity, while still being an absolute delight.