Crime et châtiment (1935) Review: The Good, The Bad & How to Watch

 

Crime et châtiment (1935)  Review: The Good, The Bad & How to Watch 

French Film, Crime, Drama
English title: Crime and Punishment

Venice Film Festival, 1935- Winner: Best Actor
National Board of Review, 1935- Winner: Top Foreign Films

When we think of cinematic adaptations of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, our minds often drift toward the gritty realism of Russian productions or perhaps the existential noir of later Hollywood attempts. However, true cinephiles know that one of the most haunting and stylistically bold interpretations emerged from France in 1935. Directed by the visionary Pierre Chenal, this version of Crime et châtiment remains a towering achievement of pre-war European cinema that captures the psychological claustrophobia of the source material like few others have dared. More on Wikipedia or Mubi 

The Master of Guilt: Reconsidering Pierre Chenal’s Crime et Châtiment 

The film stars Pierre Blanchar as Rodion Raskolnikov, and his performance is nothing short of a masterclass in nervous intensity. From the opening frames, Blanchar portrays a man not just driven by a radical philosophy, but consumed by a feverish, internal decay. His Raskolnikov is a skeletal figure of intellectual arrogance and physical fragility, making his descent into the inevitable murder of the pawnbroker feel both shocking and tragically predestined.

What sets Chenal’s direction apart is his heavy use of Expressionist aesthetics. The sets are designed with distorted angles and deep, oppressive shadows that mirror the protagonist’s fractured psyche. Every hallway feels too narrow, and every lamp creates a pool of light that offers no comfort, only exposure. The cinematography by Joseph-Louis Mundwiller creates a visual language of guilt, where the camera lingers on Raskolnikov’s sweating brow and trembling hands, forcing the audience to share in his mounting paranoia.

Opposite Blanchar is the legendary Harry Baur as Porfiry Petrovich, the cunning magistrate tasked with solving the crime. The cat-and-mouse game between these two actors provides the film’s emotional and intellectual backbone. Baur plays the investigator with a deceptive, jovial warmth that masks a razor-sharp mind, slowly tightening the noose around Raskolnikov through psychological exhaustion rather than brute force. Their scenes together are a masterclass in tension, proving that dialogue can be just as explosive as any action sequence.

While some purists might argue that a French production loses the specific "Russian soul" of the novel, Chenal’s 1935 masterpiece proves that the themes of redemption, suffering, and the morality of the "extraordinary man" are universal. It is a grim, beautiful, and profoundly philosophical piece of filmmaking that deserves a spot on the shelf of anyone who values cinema as a serious art form. Decades later, its shadows still loom large over the history of psychological thrillers.

The Good: Why It’s a Masterpiece

The greatest strength of this version is the casting and performance. Harry Baur’s portrayal of Porfiry is widely considered one of the best in cinema history. He manages to be both fatherly and terrifying, using silence and slow movements to dismantle Raskolnikov’s ego.

Beyond the acting, the visual atmosphere is incredibly effective. Pierre Chenal utilized "Expressionist" lighting—think long, jagged shadows and cramped rooms—to show that the city of St. Petersburg is just as sick as Raskolnikov’s mind. The film doesn't just tell you the protagonist is feeling guilty; it makes the entire world look like a nightmare he can’t wake up from. It’s a very faithful adaptation in spirit, capturing the "fever dream" quality of Dostoevsky’s writing that later, more polished versions often miss.

The Bad: Where It Shows Its Age

On the flip side, the film’s pacing can feel quite slow to a modern viewer. Because it was made in 1935, the editing is deliberate and theatrical, which can sometimes drain the tension from what should be high-stakes scenes.

Another point of contention is the theatricality of Pierre Blanchar. While his "nervous" performance is haunting, some modern audiences find it a bit "over the top." He spends a lot of the movie wide-eyed and trembling, which worked well for audiences in the 1930s but can feel slightly exaggerated by today’s standards of subtle, internal acting. Finally, because the film focuses so heavily on the psychological battle between the killer and the investigator, some of the novel’s side plots and philosophical subtext (like the social commentary on poverty) are simplified or pushed to the background to keep the runtime manageable.
English subtitles