“All Crimes Are Collective.”
– Title of the included essay by Professor Lynn A. Higgins.
A society is nothing more than a collection of individuals who agree on rules. This is obvious, of course, and, quite frequently, presumed, which is what makes any break from established mores quite frightful for some. Strangely, though, there’s a rather avoidant reaction to the realization that if society is in fact a collective, then we are equally culpable for the bad things that we allow to happen, like murder, corruption, obfuscation of duty, and the control of others through legal means. That last bit is important because just because something is legal doesn’t make it moral or correct. The deconstruction of social mores is a center point of author Jim Thompson’s 1964 crime novel Pop. 1280, which was later adapted into Coup de torchon (1981) by filmmaker Bertrand Tavernier (Les baisers), transplanting the murderous activities within fictitious 1960s Pottsville for late 1930s French-controlled Senegal. Despite the period setting, the commentary within Tavernier’s adaptation remains razor-sharp in its presentation of colonization and the lengths some will go to for a clean slate.
Philippe Noiret as Lucien Cordier in COUP DE TORCHON. Photo courtesy of The Criterion Collection.
In the small French West African town of Bourkassa, Senegal, in July 1938, Sherriff Lucien Cordier (Philippe Noiret) does as little as possible, much to the frustration of his wife, Huguette (Stéphane Audran), and the residents who wish he’d step in when some ruffian decides to take advantage of someone. Lucien believes that he was hired directly for his qualities of non-intervention, so why get involved; however, he’s also frustrated by the reputation it’s earned him and the amount of disrespect that comes with it. One day, he decides it’s time to change things and it quite surprises him how far he’s willing to go and how easily he can do it.
The following restoration review is based on a Blu-ray retail edition provided by The Criterion Collection. To be clear, however, this is a 4K HD restoration and not a 4K UHD restoration. Currently, Criterion is only offering Coup de torchon on a standard Blu-ray, so don’t expect UHD details, bitrates, or the like.
L-R: Eddy Mitchell as Nono, Stéphane Audran as Huguette, and Philippe Noiret as Lucien Cordier in COUP DE TORCHON. Photo courtesy of The Criterion Collection.
Starting outside and moving inward, Coup de torchon is packaged in the standard clear case Criterion is known for featuring brand-new art by Sean Phillips depicting several moments at once: the fire Lucien sets for the children during the eclipse, a bloodied Rose (Isabelle Huppert) with her pistol, and Lucien in profile as a shadow. Only available in Blu-ray, the disc art features the title of the film and Lucien’s shadow profile only. The included booklet is in accordion style with one side featuring a depiction of a small portion of the town and its inhabitants alongside the restoration and feature information as well as a fully-drawn profile of Lucien from which the shadow is drawn. The reverse features the lone essay with this edition titled “All Crimes Are Collective” from Dartmouth College Professor Lynn A. Higgins. Within her essay, she explores Coup de torchon through the lens of Tavernier’s career, specifically his influences and journey to get the film made. She offers a context that can help any viewer new to Tavernier’s filmography a foundation to approach the director’s work and to understand why this title is a touch illusive in categorization.
The supplemental materials continue, as expected, on-disc. Here you’ll find one brand-new featurette with critic/poet Robert Polito; an archival 2001 interview with Tavernier; a making-of featurette shot on location featuring Tavernier, cinematographer Pierre-William Glenn (Day for Night), and actors Noiret (Cinema Paradiso), Huppert (The Piano Teacher), and Jean-Pierre Marielle (The Da Vinci Code); an alternate ending as explained by Tavernier, and trailers. Regarding the new 17-minute featurette, “Polito on Thompson,” through a mixture of Coup de torchon film footage, stills from Pop. 1280 (and other Thompson novels), and personal photographs of Thompson, Polito drills into the film by way of the original author. He does this by providing background on the author’s influences, the reaction filmmakers have had to his work (especially the ones that seemed “unfilmable”), and providing context for Tavernier’s approach which does deviate in several ways from the source material without sacrificing narrative or thematic intention. One should absolutely screen this featurette upon completion of watching the film, especially if it’s a first-time watch.
Regarding the restoration, the liner notes indicate that this new 4K restoration was created using the original 35 mm camera negative and the audio was remastered from the original soundtrack negative. The entire process was overseen by filmmaker/Coup de torchon co-writer Jean Achache (The Séance Is Over) and was accomplished by STUDIOCANAL with the support of CNC via L’Immagine Ritrovata in Bologna, Italy. This same organization has worked on other restorations released by Criterion, including Touki bouki (1973), Cronos (1992), and A Woman in Paris (1923). STUDIOCANAL recently supported the newly-released edition of The Elephant Man (1980), so it’s possible that a 4K UHD edition may appear down the line; however, for now, this restoration impresses even in its HD state. The bitrate hovers in the mid-30 Mbps (max is 40 for a Blu-ray) for the bulk of the film, suggestive of a high technical presentation despite the abundance of on-disc materials. The video and audio elements are clean and clear, no obvious signs of wear on the 45-year-old film. Specifically, the often documentary-like cinematography mixed with the naturalistic colors afford this period piece a fascinating sense of temporal freedom. Meaning, that despite being set in 1938 and the officers wearing period-specific attire, there’s much about the look of the film and the costumes worn by others that give the 1938-set film a sensation of modernity. Admittedly, there is the occasional slip with the subtitles, such as when “here” is presented as “her,” but that could be a mistype or misentry as these sorts of errors are largely uncommon for Criterion.
L-R: Philippe Noiret as Lucien Cordier and Isabelle Huppert as Rose in COUP DE TORCHON. Photo courtesy of The Criterion Collection.
Adapted by Tavernier and Aurenche, Coup de torchon (translated to Clean Slate) is a fascinating dark comedy. In just about all of its corners, there is some confusing mixture of cruelty and kindness with justifications provided by each as a means of avoiding personal responsibility. In the opening sequence, Lucien observes several African children squatting over dirt and cupping it into their mouths — are they looking for termites or is it just dirt, both implying a desperate need for sustenance to sate their hungry stomachs. Rather than ensure they have food, the sheriff just watches from a distance, only taking action when a solar eclipse occurs and builds them a fire to keep warm until it passes. He may not have money, but he should, theoretically, have influence, yet he doesn’t do anything to help the children. As we learn more about him and the way he views his job, it becomes quite clear that he’s a racist, delineating one individual of worth from another based solely on the color of their skin. Despite living in their country and feeling somewhat content, he looks down on the natives, going so far as to declare their souls of less value (if they even have them) than a white’s. Yet, he’ll call himself abused by his wife or looked down upon by the pimps and business people residing in the town or even by his colleagues in the larger town a train ride away. It’s not that he’s without the ability to treat someone native to Senegal with respect, he does this regularly, but that doesn’t make him a good person. It’s like the scene in director Regina King’s One Night in Miami… (2020) wherein someone fawns over footballer Jim Brown (Aldis Hodge) for all his skills and prowess, but refuses the man entry and drops a slur in the process. Colonizers will always see themselves as the saviors and the colonized as the saved, never as people worthy of equal respect and equitable treatment. Interestingly, the way that Noiret plays Lucien, one doesn’t get the sense of a loathing for the African natives, but of internalized racism and presumed colonization superiority, thereby making Lucien someone that has the presentation of a shitbag without constantly acting like one. It almost makes his turn toward criminality in order to transform his life away from the ridicule he frequently receives quite darker because his view regarding the value of life already contains a hierarchy. Thus, by the time we get to the end and his true colors are revealed, his display of ease murdering and/or manipulating others to do his dirty work for him (or take the blame), one sees a person who was already bent, he just gave himself the permission to unleash the darkness within. Authorization that society afforded him in a variety of ways, defining some cruelty as socially acceptable and others not, creating the opportunity for individuals to grant themselves excuses under the banner of permissible social mores when, morally, these people were bankrupt from the moment they moved in on the residents of Senegal.
Philippe Noiret as Lucien Cordier in COUP DE TORCHON. Photo courtesy of The Criterion Collection.
If one is unfamiliar with the work of Bertrand Tavernier or the writings of Jim Thompson, Coup de torchon is a striking place to begin. Featuring performances from an ensemble that understand the difference between interpersonal drama, cruel comedy, and biting social satire, one finds themselves switching between wanting justice for all and Lucien getting away with his crimes all while recognizing that the lot of them are basically trash individuals. Though there are not a lot of supplemental materials included with the release, it’s enough to get folks started on their journey of discovery and walk away with a greater understand of Tavernier’s purposeful adaptation that’s faithful to the ideas of Thompson’s work without being strict in its approach (see: Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey as a modern example of this). Times being what they are and pennies not going as far as they used to, Coup de torchon is a film absolutely worth seeing and worth waiting for a sale to pick up, should this be a fresh viewing for you. Fans of the filmmaker or novelist may feel an itch to grab this sooner and will likely walk away delighted they’ve done so. This reviewer recommends that any curious cinephile explore this new-to-Criterion title and allow its ideas to reside within you for a spell.
Coup de torchon Special Features:
- *NEW* 4K digital restoration, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack
- Interview from 2001 with director Bertrand Tavernier
- *NEW* Polito on Thompson, an interview with critic and poet Robert Polito about source-novel author Jim Thompson
- Making-of program featuring on-set footage and interviews with members of the cast and crew
- Alternate ending
- Trailers
- New English subtitle translation
- PLUS: An essay by scholar Lynn Anthony Higgins
- New cover by Sean Phillips
Available on Blu-ray August 11th, 2026.
For more information, head to the official The Criterion Collection Coup de torchon webpage.
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Categories: Films To Watch, Home Video, Recommendation, Reviews
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