A nameless burglar (Paul Bruchon) is hired by a mysterious woman to steal an important box from a secluded house. The heist is going well, that is until the house is suddenly flooded with guests attending an impromptu party. With no means of escape, the only option the burglar has is to hide and try to avoid detection. Then he starts receiving help from a leopard shoe clad femme fatale.
Alexis Bruchon writes and directs this quirky homage to film noir, a film that is almost entirely dialogue free. Our lead never interacts verbally with any other character, his exchanges come purely via the text messages he exchanges on his phone. It’s an interesting story-telling device, but one that will likely ruffle a few feathers. The constant back and forth via SMS means that there’s not a lot of variation in shots, most being of the phone screen itself, and the visuals get very repetitive. With so much text-based communication on screen, one might find themselves in need of their spectacles – depending on what screen they view on – as it’s on the small side.
Although the time period is modern, thanks to the inclusion of mobile phone technology, the production design and costuming emulate the style and feel of films from the forties and fifties. The story is also told in monochromatic black and white. It’s a bold decision, with black and white being viewed as less appealing to today’s audiences, but it is one that reinforces it as a throwback to the old silver screen era. The juxtaposition of modern technology in vintage surroundings is jarring at times, but demonstrates that Bruchon isn’t afraid to think outside of the box.
The camera hardly strays from the room within which our would-be robber is hiding, creating a small and contained world. This environment is tightened further still as our nameless protagonist spends the bulk of the time squished underneath a table. The camera places the viewer at his vantage point and so are only given a limited field of vision. Which such constraints, all the viewer, and burglar, get to see of anyone else is their feet. In fact, barring our protagonist, the audience never sees another person in their entirety. It’s a very arthouse and avant-garde way of story-telling, and one that will definitely be for an acquired taste. With little dialogue, Bruchon relies on music to convey meaning and feeling. Bruchon himself handles the music and crafts a slinky jazzy score that complements the stylistic choices.
The Tarantino feet-loving folks out there will revel in The Woman with Leopard Shoes’ unique brand of story-telling. Others may struggle to connect to a story where you cannot see the players properly. Sure to be for an acquired taste, The Woman with Leopard Shoes is a niche throwback to a bygone era.
The Woman with Leopard Shoes was reviewed at Arrow Video FrightFest Glasgow 2021.
The Woman with Leopard Shoes
Summary
A film that won’t be everyone’s palette, The Woman with Leopard Shoes is an interesting experiment in blending the modern with the old.
