Suzy Delair

From her apartment in the 17th arrondissement, the spiffy neighborhood flanking the northern periphery of Paris, Suzy Delair answers her phone in a lively voice. "Welcome to Paris!" she says in her native tongue, and laughs. It is the joyous, well-disposed laugh of a woman who seduces with ease, but also that of someone who has done a lot of living, has known a lot of people, and has grown all the more generous for it.

From her apartment in the 17th arrondissement, the spiffy neighborhood flanking the northern periphery of Paris, Suzy Delair answers her phone in a lively voice. "Welcome to Paris!" she says in her native tongue, and laughs. It is the joyous, well-disposed laugh of a woman who seduces with ease, but also that of someone who has done a lot of living, has known a lot of people, and has grown all the more generous for it.

Brooding, beautifully made and almost impossible for Americans to see (or, for that matter, to correctly pronounce), Henri-Georges Clouzot's knockout 1947 film noir "Quai des Orfevres," makes a triumphant reappearance on theatrical screens after an absence of about 50 years. Originally released in the U.S.