Jean-Pierre Melville’s 1967 story of a lonely hit man (Alain Delon) is stylish and elegant, though not really the holy writ that Quentin Tarantino and John Woo have claimed. Though Melville sustained himself with American-style thrillers in the last decade of his life, his best versions of American noir arguably remain the earlier ones in black and white (my own favorite is 1966’s Le deuxieme souffle). This one certainly has its moments (particularly the coordinated police chase through the Paris metro), but its women characters are faintly ridiculous, while the men are mainly suave icons. Henri Decae’s brilliant color cinematography finds something metallic blue gray in virtually every shot, and the film is alluring as long as one remains captivated by its mannerist and slightly monotonous style. Despite a hefty (and fabricated) quote from The Book of Bushido about the loneliness of the samurai, this is all about attitude and machismo rather than soul, which is why it winds up feeling somewhat flat. Based on Joan McLeod’s novel The Ronin; in French with subtitles. 101 min. (JR)