Alain Jessua
Traitement de choc

Wealthy, satiated and well-fed to the point of not realizing that their condition also involves high costs that, however, fall on all those who are exploited to allow the well-being of the so-called happy few. This is what happens in many cases, but it always remains true that some manage to become aware of this unfair situation. Whether they manage to change the system described above is certainly another matter.

It is my general consideration that occurs every time I re-watch "Traitement de choc" (released in Italy with the horrid title "L'uomo che uccideva a sangue freddo" which spoiled the legitimate curiosity of the viewer to understand the implicit dynamics of the plot). An old film by Alain Jessua (an author unfortunately somewhat forgotten around our parts) shot in 1972, and certainly reflects a mentality of that era but still conveys a valid message.

The protagonist is Hélène Masson (well portrayed by an intense Annie Girardot), director of a successful prêt-à-porter company who, besides the work-related stress, is recovering from the end of a romantic relationship. To deal with this messy moment in her life, she decides to go to a thalassotherapy institute run by Doctor Devilers (played by Alain Delon at the peak of his brooding charm) on the island Belle Île en Mer, in the French region of Brittany. The treatment involves a vegetarian diet, together with balneotherapy and the practice of healthy naturism. And all of this is accompanied by robust injections of a liquid invigorating medication that seems to be a kind of elixir of long life.

Everything could proceed optimally if it weren't for the fact that, among the wealthy patient residents, Hélène finds a dear friend plagued by the problem of sustaining high expenses for the therapy previously described. Thus indebted up to his neck, one fine morning he is found dead at the foot of a rocky stretch of the island's coast. A suicide, it seems, but Hélène is increasingly suspicious of the goings-on in this deluxe clinic, considering that there are often cases of sudden fainting among the Portuguese waiters and servants working in the facility during service. And these same unfortunates, in a short time, are sent back home (or so it seems) to be replaced by other compatriots. Furthermore, Doctor Devilers' seductive behavior towards Hélène is not devoid of ambiguous and honeyed tones, as if he intended to hide something unclean and possibly divert any checks on the truth. And some legitimate suspicion about the nature of that liquid injected into the veins of the people under treatment may arise: is it really extracted from the cells of sheep raised there, as Devilers wants to make believe? Is there, perhaps, a link with those Portuguese workers inexplicably suffering from the island’s climate and mysteriously disappeared?

There's no need to add more to an increasingly distressing intertwining that adheres to the classic mechanisms of a good thriller, leading to outcomes tinged with notes of horror (and without spoiling the pleasure of discovery for those who want to revisit this film). What I wish to emphasize is Jessua's portrayal of an environment of wealthy patients who enjoy all the advantages of a certain system and feel privileged to be part of it, without raising their eyes to see the flip side of the coin, constituted by the exploitation of so many who, as Karl Marx described some time before, have no viable alternatives but to work under disadvantaged conditions. The story told is ultimately a metaphor for the power relations between that part of the developed and opulent world (the so-called West) and all the areas characterized by underdeveloped and backward nations. Even more significant is the fact that the film was shot in 1972, when the developed West could not even imagine that the following year, during the Yom Kippur War between Israel and Arab nations, the first oil crisis would arise, severely testing precisely that model of development considered timeless. Ultimately, those rich patients of the thalassotherapy institute are so shortsighted that they cannot see what lies behind the mechanism that holds the whole concoction. Only Hélène Masson demonstrates a certain astuteness, although demonstrating the malfeasance will not be feasible.

Sure, the message conveyed by the work is not so unprecedented and I would also note that the suspense, although well-calibrated, is not such as to make it difficult for the attentive and astute viewer to foresee the intrinsic rot in the whole system in such a clinic. All the characters are involved in this decidedly vampiric logic and are complicit because they are fine with things going that way. Not to mention the workers employed, who accept such conditions (one has to make a living somehow...). A fine example of alienation.

It is also worth pointing out the excellent performance of all the actors and actresses involved in the film. Moreover, and it is an authentic sign of those freer times compared to today, various scenes of full nudity were shot due to script requirements (and this certainly contributed to the commercial success of the work). In fact, without particular problems for others, neither Annie Girardot (in full physical splendor) nor Alain Delon had any issue acting in birthday suits. Thus they did not resort to body doubles and hence, with evident interest from female viewers, at one point Alain Delon strips completely and runs to throw himself into the sea waves for an intoxicating swim. And since, running, his swinging appendage is quite visible, it must be remembered to the aforementioned viewers that it is not a double: it is all Alain Delon in nature form.