All About Moreau

Eva is Jeanne Moreau. And except for some wonderfully grey and wintry views of Venice, this long, turgid melodrama has little else to recommend it. Made in Italy in 1962 by Director Joseph Losey (The Servant), Eva describes how a malicious, luxury-class harlot (Moreau) coolly destroys a famous Welsh author (Stanley Baker) who never amounted to much in the first place. The man is a loser whose reputation rests on a novel he stole from his dead brother. By the time the woman finishes with him, his exquisite wife (Virna Lisi) has committed suicide and the writer is reduced to loud talk and low estate as a Venetian tourist guide.

Director Losey tries to cover cliches with camera trickery. He works from arresting angles, all but caressing the decor of a world made to order for the filthy rich. Fond of polished surfaces, he dotes on reflections in mirrors, sunglasses, brandy snifters. But the validity of Eva lies in Moreau's accomplished bitchery. As a sleek alley cat commuting at her whim between Venice and Rome, she slinks from warm beds to warm baths, purring over her furs and silks and blues records with such hypnotic self-absorption that even a silly role begins to seem not just interesting but absolutely essential to watch.

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