The story may contain too many characters and convolutions for some, but Henri Calef’s Les violents (US: The Violent) is a tour-de-force of noir aesthetics that will satisfy noir lovers like candy. Its opening act dripping in atmosphere (thick fog, seaside moonlight, wrought-iron gates, street lamps, a back alley beneath an arch, the lurking silhouette of a mysterious trenchcoated figure), the film immediately establishes a tone of perdition in the form of Pierre Tiercelin (Fernand Ledoux), a once-wealthy, semi-alcoholic widower now working as a locksmith to support his daughter Evelyne (Françoise Fabian) who is forced to work as a showgirl and model (“I wasn’t able to make a lady of her”). When Pierre receives a miniature coffin in the mail as a threat on his life, he travels across town to visit his extremely wealthy, gunrunning cousin Bernard “The Violent” Chartrain (Jean Brochard), who also received a coffin; while the two men resent each other, they agree that the threat is coming from a distant, resentful cousin named Edgar, who, we later learn, will inherit Chartrain’s fortune if both men are out of the way. [Spoiler Alert] Later that evening, Chartrain drops dead of cyanide poisoning. Chief inspector Malouvier (Paul Meurisse), who apparently resembles Edgar in appearance, leads the investigation, which spans interviews with both men’s children, the butler, the housekeeper, ending with a hostage situation and confrontation (including an all-too-tidy explanation for all that came before) on an old, dilapidated barge that serves as a secret armory. Marcel Landowski’s score alternates from slow piano and soft xylophone through dramatic strings which strike as a feverish refrain to build tension throughout the film.