Divorced illustrator Robert spies on a young woman named Juliette whom he envies for her seemingly happy life. When they finally meet and Juliette leaves her fiancé Patrick for Robert, the situation quickly escalates.
Plot
Parisian illustrator Robert becomes obsessed with a young woman, Juliette. Night after night, Robert sneaks around the house to catch a glimpse of Juliette, until one day he finally gathers the courage to introduce himself. Juliette realizes that she is not happy with her fiancé, Patrick, and leaves him to be with Robert. Robert in turn is not happy with Juliette's obtrusive advances.
One night, Patrick attacks Robert in a deserted area; Robert defends himself and knocks Patrick unconscious, leaving him on the shores of a nearby river. The next day, Robert is interrogated by the police. Patrick is missing, and suddenly Robert is the prime suspect. Nobody knows that Patrick has allied with Robert's bitter ex-wife, Véronique, to take revenge on Robert; he is hiding from the police in order to make them think Robert killed him. Robert's professional and private life falls apart after becoming a police suspect. The situation escalates when Juliette commits suicide, and Patrick launches a vendetta against Robert. In a final confrontation between the men, Véronique is accidentally killed, and although Patrick is defeated, Robert is again left as a suspect in an apparent crime scene.
The film premiered on October 28, 1987 in France. It was featured at the Toronto International Film Festival on September 9, 1987.[2] It made its US premiere on October 16, 1991 in New York City. Although released on VHS in many countries, the American DVD is the only available digital release for the home media market at present (2011).
Reception
The Los Angeles Times called it "top-drawer Chabrol", and "a gratifying entertainment of leisurely elegance--and delicious nastiness."[3]IndieWire said it was "classic Chabrol: slow, deliberate, gorgeously scored", and added: "there are shades of Fritz Lang here, as well as Chabrol’s late-’60s efforts."[4]TV Guide remarked that "Chabrol seems just plain too jovially bourgeois to whip himself up to the state of moral implacability that characterizes Hitchcock's utter control of the medium. But, in its own way, The Cry of the Owl is just as unforgettable."[5]
