Bay of Angels

Bay of Angels is Jacques (Lola) Demy's second film, and I would hate to think of sitting through its ninety minutes of ultra-philosophical roulette without Jeanne Moreau at the table with one of her most flamboyant performances. I must confess that Miss Moreau, like Bette Davis, with whom she is so often compared, enthralls me more than she enchants me. Her art I find more admirable than affecting, and it is not a matter simply of maturity. It is that she seems so corrupted by experience that she has gone beyond it into a realm where her personality exists for its own sake apart from any dramatic or artistic utility. Bay of Angels is worth seeing solely for the first eloquent smile she bestows on a benefactor. The screen crackles with white-hot irony. But then one gradually realizes that she is acting in splendid solitude, and that Bay of Angels is nothing but a piece of cinematic vaudeville — and that is where a certain type of actress finds her destiny.

(Village Voice, November 26, 1964)