Philippe Noiret in Coup de Torchon (1981)
Vitals
Philippe Noiret as Lucien Cordier, ineffective yet conniving colonial police chief
French West Africa, Summer 1938
Film: Coup de Torchon
(English title: Clean Slate)
Release Date: November 4, 1981
Director: Bertrand Tavernier
Costume Designer: Jacqueline Moreau
WARNING! Spoilers ahead!
Background
For the 12th anniversary of my first-ever BAMF Style post, today’s entry is a labor of love analyzing the style from the French adaptation of one of my favorite novels, Pop. 1280 by Jim Thompson. Born 118 years ago tomorrow on September 27, 1906, Thompson specialized in hardboiled crime fiction that has frequently been adapted into movies, including The Getaway, The Grifters, and The Killer Inside Me.
Published sixty years ago in 1964, Pop. 1280 is a darkly comic retread of the themes Thompson explored in The Killer Inside Me, following a southern sheriff whose mild-mannered persona masks his psychopathy. Set during the 1910s, Pop. 1280 is narrated by Nick Corey, the blissfully lazy “high sheriff of Potts County,” the 47th largest in an unnamed state of 47 counties. Nick presents himself as a dimwitted pushover, while secretly manipulating and murdering his way through his friends, family, and mistresses, all while nurturing delusions of being God’s agent sent to punish the sinful town of Pottsville.
Though there are rumors of a future adaptation directed by Yorgos Lanthimos (who seems well-suited for the material), the only major screen adaptation to date is Bertrand Tavernier’s Coup de Torchon, which earned ten César Award nominations and was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film at the 55th Academy Awards.
Adapted by Tavernier and Jean Aurenche, Coup de Torchon maintains the story’s center around a lazy lawman living with his domineering wife and her overly affectionate and slow-witted, uh, “brother”, in a small town where he’s the constant target of bullies, from those in his own household to a boastful fellow lawman who works several towns away. However, the setting is shifted to the fictional French West African town of Bourkessa on the eve of World War II, and the protagonist is reimagined as Lucien Cordier, played by Philippe Noiret, a two-time César Award-winning actor born in Lille on October 1, 1930.
“Doing nothing is my job, I’m paid for it,” Cordier explains to the two snappily dressed pimps who regularly torment him, adding with some earnestness: “At times—not always—I think I’ve found paradise on Earth.”
Cordier seems almost proudly ineffective and unwilling to take a firm stance on anything, despite being the presumed authority in Bourkassa. When he actually feels compelled to vocalize his disagreement with someone, Cordier merely utters the noncommittal “maybe you’re right, but maybe you’re wrong.” But this facile façade merely masks a man capable of considerable deviousness, from maintaining romantic affairs with fiery local housewife Rose (Isabelle Huppert) to the optimistic newly arrived schoolteacher Anne (Irène Skobline) to orchestrating revenge against “all the bastards who look away when you’re in the shit, who wallow in their cash, praying through their assholes that nothing happens… if it’s true they were made in God’s image, I wouldn’t like to get Him in a dark alley.”
As Cordier’s acts of vengeance escalate from petty inconveniences to violent transgressions, only a kind priest (Jean Champion) is aware of Cordier’s true nature, though even he can’t anticipate the chief’s compounding delusions that lead to Cordier believing himself to be a twisted reincarnation of Jesus Christ.
What’d He Wear?
Appropriate for the tropical climate of this French colonial outpost, Lucien Cordier dresses in a safari-inspired uniform consisting of a matching light-khaki cotton drill tunic and trousers.
The loose-fitting tunic is unlined to keep it light and comfortable in the heat, though this also results in a rumpled appearance that complements Cordier’s already slovenly demeanor. It features six beige sew-through buttons from the waist to the neck, which would form a standing mandarin collar when fully buttoned. However, Cordier consistently keeps at least the top few buttons undone, which causes the revers to lay flat like traditional notch lapels.
A button is sewn toward the neck on each shoulder, suggesting the absence of epaulets, which makes the argument that this could have been a military or police-issued tunic.
I haven’t been able to link Cordier’s tunic with any specific French militaria, though it shares some similarities with the khaki drill banded-collar tropical tunic issued to enlisted ranks of the French Army during World War I (like this 1916-dated example auctioned by C&T). Cordier’s quartet of pockets and plain buttons are even closer to this slightly earlier Boer War-era British tunic.
Each of Cordier’s tunic’s four pockets—two on the chest and two below the waist—are covered by single-button flaps. The set-in shoulders are finished with plain cuffs—devoid of buttons, vents, or straps—and a single long vent runs up the center of the back.
Cordier rotates through a trio of collarless shirts, starting with a soft salmon-pink cotton henley that he wears most frequently. This pullover shirt has long set-in sleeves and a satin-finished placket, though the top of the three matching buttons is missing.
He also wears a nearly identical henley in pale yellow, though this version retains all three tonal buttons on the satin-finished placket.
After the bullying pimps dump Cordier in the “river of the dead”, he changes out of the dirty pink henley into a more presentable striped white shirt. Unlike the others, this is not a henley but rather a dressier band-collar popover shirt that could be presumably worn with a detachable collar and tie, apropos the formality of Cordier’s day trip to the larger neighboring town, where he visits his “friend” and fellow police officer Marcel Chavasson (Guy Marchand).
The puckered cloth may be linen or cotton, faintly patterned with double sets of stripes against a plain white ground. Despite being the dressiest of Cordier’s screen-worn shirts, it still shows signs of distress like a fraying neckband. The long three-button placket extends down to his midsection, and the squared barrel cuffs each close with a single button.
Cordier’s light-khaki cotton drill trousers match his tunic, styled with double forward pleats that add roominess through the thighs and emphasize the chief’s slouchy appearance. The trousers fasten with a button fly and have a two-button waistband, straight side pockets, and a button-through back-right pocket. Cut straight through the legs, they end in plain-hemmed bottoms.
Cordier holds his trousers up with a black leather belt that closes through a dulled silver-toned double-prong buckle. Looped onto the front left side of his belt for a right-handed cross-draw, he wears the hefty clamshell-style holster first issued by the French military in the late 19th century for MAS 1873 and Modèle 1892 service revolvers. Dyed a dark-brown leather that has worn to a supple patina, the holster consists of a wide humped flap that snaps into place through a small brass post, covering not only the revolver but also a smaller post-fastened leather pouch for spare ammunition. The back of the holster features a wide leather loop (to be slipped over a belt, as Cordier wears it) flanked by two rectangular brass rings (to alternatively be worn with a full-body strap.) Cordier keeps the belt—and holster—pulled through the trousers’ belt loops even when he’s not wearing them.
Cordier consistently wears black leather plain-toe riding boots, tucking their calf-high shafts inside his loose-fitting trouser legs.
When Lucien removes his boots while sitting by the river with Le Peron’s brother George (Jean-Pierre Marielle), he giggles to himself “I must’ve gotten dressed in the dark” upon noticing his two different colored socks: a bright red sock on his right foot and a cornflower-blue sock on his left.
Cordier’s tan wide-brimmed hat resembles a fedora with its pinched crown, but its unorthodox corduroy construction softens the silhouette to look as slouchy as the rest of his outfit. The wales arc along the side of each crown, similar to the whorls of a fingerprint. The self-band is made of the same tan tufted cotton, missing the characteristic wales of traditional corduroy.
Adding to his rugged look, Cordier wears a long beige muslin scarf loosely tied under his tunic, occasionally using it to wipe sweat. On his right wrist, he sports a wide brown leather cuff that closes with two self-straps wrapping around each edge before tapering to a single piece that fastens through a squared brass single-prong buckle.
Cordier sleeps in a long-sleeved pullover shirt not unlike the henleys he wears in his everyday life. Made from a thin cotton, the shirt has a V-neck opening with a single button at the top and squared, plain-hemmed cuffs at the end of each set-in sleeve. The color practically matches his beige cotton boxer shorts.
The Gun
“Do you always carry a gun?” Anne asks Cordier when they meet on the train. “I have to, I’m the police chief of Bourkassa,” he replies, adding, “I’ve never used it.” Whether or not he was telling the truth, that certainly changes that evening when he follows Marcel’s advice to shoot and kill the two pimps who have been tormenting him.
Cordier carries the Modèle d’Ordonnance Modèle 1892, a French service revolver also—if mistakenly—known as the “Lebel revolver.” As suggested by its primary designation, this double-action revolver was developed in the early 1890s, originally intended for commissioned officers in the French military as a replacement for the aging 11mm Chamelot-Delvigne Modèle 1873 revolver, which remained in use by non-commissioned officers.
Weighing just under two pounds when unloaded, the Mle. 1892 features a swing-out cylinder with a capacity for six rounds of proprietary 8mm French Ordnance ammunition. This rimmed 8x27mm black-powder cartridge was designated “8mm Lebel” by the C.I.P. in reference to the revolver’s colloquial nickname, despite having no documented connection to Colonel Nicolas Lebel, who oversaw the development of the iconic Mle. 1886 “Lebel” rifle and died months before the revolver’s introduction.
Approximately 350,000 Mle. 1892 revolvers were produced at the state-owned Manufacture d’armes de Saint-Étienne (MAS) between 1892 and 1924, after which it was replaced in French service by the MAB D semi-automatic pistol chambered for the ballistically similar 7.65×17mmSR (.32 ACP). However, the Mle. 1892 remained in limited use among all ranks of the French Army, Navy, and Gendarmerie, seeing some action during World War II and continuing to serve various French police agencies into the 1960s.
Throughout Coup de Torchon, Cordier also handles other firearms, including the pimps’ sporterized Mauser bolt-action rifle and Mercaillou’s double-barreled shotgun. He also insists that Rose purchase a nickel-plated Smith & Wesson revolver, which becomes a key instrument in executing his final acts of revenge.
What to Imbibe
Though his diet throughout Coup de Torchon includes Piper-Hiedsieck champagne and ratafia from the deceased pimp Le Peron’s private stash, Lucien Cordier most frequently drinks pastis with his prisoner-turned-valet Fête Nat (Abdoulaye Diop), who adds water to prepare it in the traditional manner. This dilution—typically five parts water to every part of pastis—causes the “ouzo effect” also seen with other anise-flavored liquors like absinthe and anisette, transforming the amber-tinted spirit to a louche or cloudy light shade of yellow-green.
Paul Richard introduced pastis in 1932 as an alternative to absinthe, which had been banned seventeen years earlier in the United States and most of Europe, including France. Compared to the much stronger absinthe, which could contain up to 74% ABV, pastis is typically bottled within the more conventional range of 40 to 50% ABV.
How to Get the Look
Philippe Noiret in Coup de Torchon (1981)
Forty years after khaki drill tunics were proudly worn by Teddy Roosevelt’s “Rough Riders”, poor Lucien Corder’s haphazard khaki merely makes him look like he’s been ridden rough. The colonial police chief barely maintains any decorum in his West African outpost, supplementing his khaki uniform with a slouchy hat, muslin scarf, riding boots, and a rotation of band-collar shirts.
- Light-khaki cotton drill tropical uniform:
- Single-breasted 6-button unlined tunic with standing mandarin collar, shoulder buttons, four patch pockets with single-button flaps, plain cuffs, and single vent
- Double forward-pleated low-rise trousers with belt loops, straight side pockets, button-through back-right pocket, and plain-hemmed bottoms
- Salmon-pink cotton long-sleeved pullover henley shirt with three-button satin-finished placket
- Black leather belt with dulled silver double-prong buckle
- Dark-brown leather French military clamshell-style belt holster with wide, post-fastened flap (for MAS 1873/Mle. 1892 service revolver)
- Black leather calf-high riding boots
- Bright-red and/or cornflower-blue socks
- Tan corduroy self-banded fedora
- Beige muslin scarf
- Brown leather wrist cuff with squared brass single-prong buckle-belted strap
Do Yourself a Favor and…
Check out the movie, and read Jim Thompson’s source novel, Pop. 1280—one of my favorites!
Coincidentally, I had elected to rewatch this on April 10th of this year—just two days after the 2024 solar eclipse—and was surprised to see that the movie actually began with Cordier witnessing an eclipse.
The Quote
Do you know why dogs sniff each other’s butts? When dogs still ruled the world, they held a convention to vote new laws. The head dog said, “I suggest that, due to poor hygiene here, our assholes be left at the door.” The dogs agreed and de-assholed. But just then, a tornado blew in and mixed all the assholes up! Not one dog recognized his own. Ever since, they smell each other’s asses, and it’ll go on ’til the end of time.
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