NOTE: The below Blu-ray captures were taken directly from the Blu-ray disc.

ADDITION: Indicator Blu-ray (July 2026): Indicator have transferred Yves Boisset's "La Travestie" to Blu-ray. The 4K restoration from the original camera negative delivers a strong transfer of a dual-layered disc with a max'ed out bitrate. Boisset’s mise-en-scène is described as heavy-handed or frontal: direct, sometimes impudique framing that prioritizes emotional and bodily exposure over subtle visual metaphor. This creates a voyeuristic discomfort aligned with the story’s themes of performance and hidden identities, though some find it lacking in atmospheric depth or elegance. Yves Dahan’s cinematography presents a naturalistic yet somber realism. The film opens in clinical, confined hospital spaces before shifting to provincial interiors and then the seedy, rain-slicked streets of Paris (particularly around Bastille.) It favors straightforward, sometimes unflinching compositions - long takes and close-ups that emphasize bodies, faces, and transformations - over stylized flair. Contrast and black levels are solid, preserving the film’s somber, occasionally flat aesthetic that reinforces themes of alienation and psychological unease. Grain is organic and film-like, avoiding modern denoising. Minor age-related artifacts appear minimal, resulting in a presentation that feels faithful to the original while looking cleaner and more immersive than previous standard-definition releases. For a late-80s drama with modest production values, this is an excellent transfer that honors the source material.

NOTE: We have added 66 more large resolution Blu-ray captures (in lossless PNG format) for DVDBeaver Patrons HERE

On their Blu-ray, Indicator use a linear PCM mono track (24-bit) in the original French language. Dialogue remains clear and intelligible (essential for a character-driven film heavy on French-language interactions), while ambient sounds - urban streets, intimate encounters, and hotel rooms - sit naturally in the mix. Philippe Sarde’s (Choice of Arms, Madame Rosa, Max and the Junkmen, The Widow Couderc, Tess, La Grande Bouffe, Quest For Fire,) haunting, melancholic score (with its string-and-piano textures and waltzes) translates well in mono, retaining its subtle emotional undercurrent without losing nuance. There are no flashy surround options, which suits the film’s intimate, frontal style. Overall, the audio is unobtrusive and period-appropriate, allowing the raw performances and atmospheric sound design to shine without distraction. Indicator offer optional English subtitles on their Region FREE Blu-ray.

The extras package on the Indicator Blu-ray is complete. The supplements are focused and valuable for a niche title. The standout is “Girls and Boys Come Out to Play” (2026), a 1/4 hour video essay by critic and historian Alexandra Heller-Nicholas (Rape-Revenge Films: A Critical Study.) It thoughtfully explores the film’s themes of gender and power, situating La Travestie in its 1988 context while highlighting its prescient handling of identity performance, female psychosexuality, and patriarchy - without demonization. This piece elevates the release by framing the film as more than a flawed curiosity. There is a brief "Location Report" focusing on the locales where the film was shot (Provinces - around Le Puy - or nearby areas in the Auvergne region - Paris - the bulk of the film, especially streets around the Bastille area, shabby hotels, and urban settings depicting her life as a 'travesti' - Biarritz; later scenes where characters hide their relationship at a sister's place on the Atlantic coast. An image gallery compiles promotional and publicity materials, offering visual context on marketing and contemporary reception. The script gallery provides the complete dialogue and continuity script, a rare and useful resource for deeper study of Boisset’s adaptation from Alain Roger’s novel. The limited edition exclusive booklet is a highlight: it includes a new essay by Georgia Humphreys (Keep it to Yourself’: Shame and Female Masturbation in American Independent Cinema,) excerpts from the original press kit, an overview of critical responses (both contemporary dismissal and later reevaluation), and full credits. The booklet’s design and writing add scholarly weight and production history.

Yves Boisset's "La Travestie" is a late-career psychological drama that marks a departure from the director’s better-known politically charged films of the 1970s (such as Dupont Lajoie or Le Juge Fayard.) Adapted from Alain Roger’s novel (itself inspired by real events), the film follows Nicole Armingault (Zabou Breitman), a provincial lawyer disillusioned by professional marginalization and unfulfilling relationships with men. After faking a pregnancy to extort money from three lovers, robbing her employer, and undergoing an abortion, she flees to Paris, cuts her hair, dons male attire, and assumes a new identity as “Nick.” What begins as an act of rebellion and reinvention devolves into a downward spiral of identity fragmentation, sexual exploration, exploitation, and mental collapse. La Travestie arrived during a transitional period for Boisset, who soon shifted to television, and for French cinema amid 1980s cultural shifts. Its explicit content and refusal to resolve Nicole’s pain into redemption or clear pathology made it divisive. Today, it resonates as a disturbing portrait of alienation in late-20th-century France - particularly the plight of women seeking autonomy - and a reminder of the personal costs of resisting (or mimicking) societal norms. While not Boisset’s (The Cop, The French Conspiracy,) most polished work, its fearless ambition, central performance, and thematic daring make it a compelling, if flawed, artifact: a film that lingers like “une marque au fer rouge,” as one viewer put it. It rewards viewers interested in gender studies, psychological drama, or unconventional French cinema of the era. Indicator’s Blu-ray is a strong, enthusiast-oriented edition that rescues La Travestie from obscurity with a fine 4K restoration, solid mono audio, and insightful extras that contextualize its bold (if uneven) exploration of identity. While the film itself remains divisive - praised for Zabou Breitman’s performance and thematic ambition, critiqued for tonal inconsistencies - the package treats it with respect and seriousness. For fans of Boisset, 1980s French cinema, or gender-themed film studies, this limited edition is recommended. It transforms an underseen “strange” work into an accessible artifact worthy of rediscovery. The combination of technical quality and thoughtful bonus features makes it a model mid-tier boutique release.

Gary Tooze