When we describe Claude Chabrol's "The Bridesmaid" as a "fairy noir," we don't mean you should load the kids into the station wagon. The "prince" of this story is Philippe (Benoit Magimel), a moody building contractor who's fixated a little too much on his mother, as well as on a stone bust of the Roman goddess Flora in the family garden. The "princess"? A beautiful, sultry loner named Senta (Laura Smet) who -- if she isn't clinically insane -- could benefit from round-the-clock monitoring. Philippe falls in love with Senta at first sight -- she's a last-minute bridesmaid at his sister's wedding. But their fast-growing passion leads to a sinister contract. Senta demands Philippe demonstrate his commitment by fulfilling a four-part test: writing a poem, planting a tree, sleeping with a man and killing someone. Philippe, spellbound with Senta, has some excruciating decisions to make.

Chabrol arranges his story with a subtle, almost clinical accumulation. And it takes close attention to the movie's seemingly innocuous details to understand his deeper purposes. But the filmmaker has never been as interested in the machinations of plot as much as aberrant human nature.

"Bridesmaid" is no exception. Senta, whose fanciful stories may or may not be true, is clearly the movie's most troubled character. But Philippe, who strongly considers her request to murder, is a close second. As with the central relationship in Alfred Hitchcock's 1951 "Strangers on a Train," whose murder pact passingly resembles the one between Philippe and Senta, we're never sure which of the two is the morally suspect party. This type of conundrum illustrates the joys of "Bridesmaid"; its rewards come from sustained concentration rather than from relaxed observation.

-- Desson Thomson (Nov. 16, 2006)

Contains nudity and violence.