• Reviews

• All
• Music
• DVDs
• Live
• Cinema
• TV
• Books
• Comic Books
• Video Games

Mar 11, 2025 Web Exclusive By Kaveh Jalinous Photography by The Criterion Collection

Henri-Georges Clouzot’s The Wages of Fear opens with a scene of a young boy torturing several cockroaches he’s tied together on a string. While the insects try to break free of their captivity, their efforts to scatter in different directions causes the string to bind them together tighter and tighter. The boy loses interest and walks away; Clouzot’s camera pans with him. Yet, the ideas presented in this short scene—those of captivity, those of escape and those of physical and spiritual exploitation—all play a prominent role in Clouzot’s film to follow.

The intricacies of a scene this formally simple, as well as the intricacies across a film that can almost too easily be mistaken as a “popcorn thriller,” solidify The Wages of Fear as essential viewing and, quite frankly, one of the greatest films ever made.

Set in the fictional South American town of Las Piedras, The Wages of Fear most closely follows Mario (Yves Montand), a Frenchman who lives in the town with no money and no employment. The town’s only employer is an American oil company, Southern Oil Company (SOC), but demand for jobs far outweighs supply. When questionable figure Jo (Charles Vanel), arrives in town with no money and no hope for escape, the two instantly take a liking to one another on account of their French heritage. The first hour of the film explores the two’s blossoming friendship against the exhausting backdrop of Las Piedras, where the only method of escape is via plane, but (as Mario notes), no one can get a stable-enough job to pay for the airfare. It’s also in this hour where we meet other characters who will quickly become significant to the film’s story; among them, Luigi (Folco Lulli), an employed worker who finds out he has cement in his lungs and mere months left to live, and Bimba (Peter van Eyck), an unknown, quiet and chilling presence.

An hour into the 153-minute film, the central narrative of The Wages of Fear kicks off. The four are hired to drive two rigs, filled with bottles of nitroglycerin, from one SOC oil field to another. It’s essentially a suicide mission—nitroglycerin is highly explosive, and any sudden movement or intense heat will cause their vehicles to blow up. And yet, the four (through methods ranging from legitimate to shady) are lucky to be chosen; the 2,000-dollar check waiting for them if they make the perilous journey is enough to secure their freedom.

Upon first watch, it might be a tad surprising that Clouzot spends so much time in Las Piedras, exploring the subtleties of the town in such detail. After all, once the four hit the road, we almost completely abandon the town and the film’s other characters. But, the director’s dedication to exploring the desolate and hopeless landscape in which these characters operate is one of the film’s strongest, most striking attributes. Las Piedras quickly reveals itself to be a place where the only way to survive is to sacrifice everything you have. People work tirelessly, destroying their bodies in the process, to have enough to get by; the idea of ever having enough to leave the town is inconceivable. In that sense, the stakes of the central characters’ mission may be higher than those employed around them, but their fates almost seem identical to one another.

The last 90 minutes of The Wages of Fear delivers some of the most thrilling sequences ever put onto the silver screen. Even re-watching the film, the tension feel through the roof; it’s impossible to not be at the edge of your seat, worried about how the slightest obstruction can cost these characters their lives. And, it’s one testing situation after another. Whether characters are navigating a pothole in the road, or trying to maneuver their trucks up a windy mountain road, you’re constantly waiting, and almost expecting, that “one false move” to finally occur.

Clouzot also infuses these sequences with existential dread. There’s a paradox at play throughout the characters’ entire journey; as they navigate each deadly situation, they oscillate between confidence and hopelessness. The excitement that they’re getting closer to escaping Las Piedras constantly clashes with the reality that they’re utterly disposable. The perils of their journey don’t matter to those who hired them; as long as the product reaches its destination, all will be well. Clouzot skillfully expands on this idea as he moves from one spectacle to the next. By the time the film reaches its final act, the director has fused form, story and theme so tightly that the visual components of each scene and what they represent are inseparable from one another. The result: shots striking and horrifying enough to permanently etch themselves into your brain.

The Wages of Fear was an early entrant into the Criterion Collection (the previous edition was released in 2009 as Spine #36). The label’s new, 4K UHD release of the film is a more than welcome upgrade. The new restoration looks incredible. The upgraded imagery does the film wonders; with quality this crisp, Clouzot’s skilled and symbolic blocking shines even brighter. As always, the release also comes stacked with a variety of special features, including an interview with Montand (from 1988), a documentary on Clouzot’s prolific career and a series of written interviews with the film’s cast and crew.

(www.criterion.com/films/370-the-wages-of-fear)