An earlier writer was right - this IS cinema de qualite, fifty years after. For those who don't know, "cinema de qualite" was a phrase coined by one of the New Wave critics (I think it was Truffaut, but don't quote me) to express contempt for what he and his colleagues perceived to be the overly glossy, empty product typical of 1950s French cinema. Yes, well. The New Wave fizzled out after producing little of value, and the 1950s (no doubt its faults were real enough; Truffaut probably came close to seeing every single French film of that decade, so in one respect he'd be in a position to know) is looking more and more like a golden age, so maybe the phrase "cinema de qualite" is about due to be reclaimed. "Quality cinema", without the sarcastic sneer.<br /><br />There are many lush camera pans over bleakly attractive scenery, which is good (not bad) in itself; but the main point is, Leconte USES the scenery. We don't doubt for a minute that this is the farthest-flung province in the entire French empire. The sea is rough (which partly explains why the murderer rows back to face execution: when every oar stroke is an effort, AND it looks to him as though he's doing the cowardly thing, the effort becomes unbearable). Every section of the island not actively occupied by civilisation feels as though it doesn't belong to civilisation - even though it's so desolate it doesn't belong to anything else, either. In short: the story clearly belongs here, and nowhere else.<br /><br />One of the great things about this film is the way it shows people acting (in a plausible way) on desires which it's easy to overlook or underestimate the force of. The husband trusts his wife's moral judgment, and is prepared to act on it. The murderer feels as though he's living under a just sentence of death and does what he can to redeem himself. The islanders are all pragmatists: at the start they believe in the value of retributive justice, but as the sheer uselessness of retributive justice becomes more obvious with each passing day, for MONTHS, the belief collapses under the strain of holding on to it. It's partly due to Leconte's skilled use of location that we're aware of the effect the mere passage of time has on people. One of the best films of 2000, if you ask me.