Made in France, and in French, by the American-born Bob Swaim. The title refers to that alienated and endangered figure, the police informer, called la balance in underworld parlance for his ability to tip the crime-battle in favor of the police; and the storyline concerns the efforts of the elite 13th Territorial Brigade to recruit a replacement for the informer who is bumped off in the opening scene. When a pimp and prostitute, whose love for each other seems altogether too true to be true, are nominated for this position by a police detective indifferent to their wishes in the matter, and unmoved by affairs of the heart, the story becomes equally a policier and a lovers' tragedy, not so much cops-and-robbers as cops-and-lovers: Dick Tracy vs. Romeo and Juliet. And the Great Love that seemed so dubious at first blush gradually wins you over. Swaim sticks to his concept, like an iron-clad and well-rehearsed alibi, with a trueness almost as wonderful as that of either of the lovers. He lets it dictate the whole shape of the movie. The pimp's and prostitute's allergic reaction to cops, their thorough indoctrination in the code of the underworld, their narrow and unshakable sense of where their allegiances lie -- all this is elaborated at a length far beyond such exigencies as pushing the plot ahead or keeping the pace lively. And the dividends of this approach come in very big at movie's end, when the ultimate act of fidelity takes on all the appearance of betrayal. Very tough, and very touching, too. With Nathalie Baye, Philippe Léotard, and Richard Berry. (1983) — Duncan Shepherd