An adaptation of Robin Cook's thriller (written under the pseudonym Derek Raymond). A washed-up concert pianist is found dead beside a railway track, leaving back at his apartment the biggest heap of clues anyone could wish for: a pile of tape recordings in which he rambles on about his obsessive love for one Barbara. When the lady in question turns up (Rampling), she immediately confesses to the bemused cop on the case (Serrault). In true noir style, however, this is only the beginning; there is now poor, ugly Serrault's long haul to establish proof, his fatal attraction to the femme fatale, his bizarre identification with the dead man, and of course his sad choice between feelings and duty. Rampling is fine as the sloe-eyed temptress with the murderous level gaze and a certain taste for incest; and Serrault is rapidly establishing himself as the French Walter Matthau, a marvellous melancholic with perfect timing. It's the sort of thriller at which the French excel; lovely stuff. CPea.