



Typically droll policier from Claude Chabrol's late period, which aims a few satirical barbs at the corruption of the provincial bourgeoisie- one of his standard preoccupations. The story might have been written for a murder-mystery on daytime television, with its familiar plot twists... and a soupçon of very dry comedy.
But the writer-director also creates interest with the eccentric characters, who are an odd combination of the whimsical and the intimidating. Particularly Jean Poiret as the inspector who is introduced as a classic, self-effacing Columbo style detective, but then beats up the suspects under interrogation...
A postal worker (Lucas Belvaux) in a conservative small town is being maliciously coerced into giving up his home by a trio of respectable professionals (including Chabrol stalwart, Michel Bouquet) who want to build on the land. Then the charred bones of a prostitute are found in a car crash that looks like it was worked on...
And we all know what an unrecognisable corpse means... It's a Chabrol film, so there's a role for his ex-wife Stéphane Audran, this time as the postman's volatile mother. Pauline Lafont is best as his screwball co-worker who lends a hand... and yes, she's the craziest of all! So... no surprises but still a must for Chabrol enthusiasts.