Les Sept péchés capitaux (1952)
Directed by Yves Allégret, Claude Autant-Lara

Film Review

Les Sept péchés capitaux is one of the best-known, certainly one of the most entertaining, of the slew of anthology films that were made in France in the 1950s and '60s.  The idea of a collection of short films linked by a portmanteau theme had first taken root in the 1940s, thanks to Raymond Bernard's Cavalcade d'amour (1940) and Marc Allégret's Parade en 7 nuits (1941), but by the 1950s it had become a staple of French cinema (although it failed to take off to the same degree in other countries). Christian-Jaque's Souvenirs perdus (1950) and Julien Duvivier's Sous le ciel de Paris (1951) are among two of the best examples of the French anthology film, although even these cannot compete with the sheer star power and unbridled eccentricity offered by Les Sept péchés capitaux.

Not content with the seven sins we all know and indulge in, the film humorously ventures an eighth in its mischievous coda, with turns out to be the most inspired of the film's seven segments.  The six short offerings that precede this are predictably a mixed bunch and range from the painfully mundane (Lust) to the completely unhinged (Sloth).  One of the reasons why the anthology film was so popular was the diversity it offered - effectively several wildly different mini-films for the price of a single cinema ticket.  There's no shortage of diversity in this wacky compendium piece, which features contributions from some of the greatest filmmakers of the day - Roberto Rossellini (Envy - based on a catty tale by Colette), Yves Allégret (Lust) and Claude Autant-Lara (Pride).

By far the most surprising and enjoyable segment is an excursion into surreal fantasy served up by an uncharacteristically extravagant Jean Dréville.  Noël-Noël - the leading French comic actor of the time and star of Dréville's subsequent box office hit À pied, à cheval et en voiture (1957) - gets to play Saint Peter, sent on a mission by the Almighty to slow down the pace of life on Earth.  It seems that things are moving so fast on Terra Firma that not even God can keep up.   Needless to say, things do not go according to plan, and in the interests of French gastronomy, if nothing else, the Sloth offensive has to be reined in a little so that other visiting angels can be assured a decent repast.  Dréville goes completely overboard with the comedy and, with a little help (little being the mot just) from Louis de Funès he delivers the film's most entertaining interlude.  The other comedic high point is a short but beautifully formed piece - supplied by Carlo Rim - in which Henri Vidal rejects the amorous advances of Claudine Dupuis in favour of a massive plate of cream cheese (and who can blame him?).

With Gérard Philipe acting as the Mephistophelean master of ceremonies, handsomely servicing the links that hold the whole thing together, Les Sept péchés capitaux has in abundance the coherence, charm and wit that were often lacking from this kind of cinematic potpourri.  At two and half hours in length, it does slightly outstay its welcome (it's a shame that the dismal Lust entry wasn't dropped altogether and the title appended to the Greed segment), but by virtue of its anthology nature you are not obliged to watch it all through in one sitting (surely that would be greedy?).  So perfectly constructed are the Avarice/Anger, Sloth, Greed and Pride stories that each of them can be enjoyed as a standalone short.  If you want to know why the world's in the mess it is now, this film might give you the answer.  It's all the fault of interfering celestial bureaucrats and a sin we never even knew existed!

Film Synopsis

At a busy fairground, a stallholder tries to drum up business by regaling passersby with stories illustrating each of the Seven Deadly Sins.  Anger and Avarice are represented by the tale of a greedy landlord, Alvaro, who threatens to evict one of his tenants, a poor musician named Eduardo, unless he can pay his rent.  When Alvaro drops his wallet stuffed with banknotes, Eduardo picks it up and sees this as a miracle.  Alas, it is not a reward the musician receives when he returns the wallet to its owner, but another abusive tirade.  Unable to endure her husband's meanness any more, Alvaro's angry wife Nenni throws his money out of the window.  Eduardo's miracle then presents itself to him, in the form of a valuable pearl.

Sloth is what humanity needs to slow down its frightening rate of progress - at least this is the view of those Divine Powers watching over us from above.  Saint Peter is sent down to Earth to ensure that Mistress Sloth lives up to her job description, and finds that she has done her work far too effectively.  The whole of civilisation has come to a grinding halt.  No one works any more, the streets are full of rubbish, and you can't even get a decent meal in a restaurant.  Realising Sloth may have overdone things somewhat, Saint Peter has a word in her ear and tells her to take things a little more easily.

Lust is foremost in the mind of buxom innkeeper Madame Blanc when a clergyman tells her that her thirteen year old daughter Chantal has confessed to being an expectant mother.  It turns out that the adolescent is deceived.  In her naivety, the poor child believes she has become pregnant just by sitting in an armchair immediately after it was occupied by her mother's artist friend Ravila.  Amused, Madame Blanc decides to repeat the experiment for herself, and Ravila is more than willing to ensure it reaches a successful outcome.  To cover the sound of her lovemaking, Madame Blanc puts on a record - but the needle gets stuck at the crucial moment.

Envy is the deadly sin to which Camille succumbs when she finds herself neglected by her partner Olivier, an artist obsessed with his work, his model and his cat.  When the cursed animal steals some fresh meat off a plate Camille decides this is the last straw.  Her opportunity to rid herself of her feline rival presents itself when the cat is happily playing on the balcony one morning.  A gentle push is all it takes to send the loathsome creature plummeting to its death.  But the animal doesn't die - everyone knows that cats have nine lives!  Olivier realises the truth in an instant when he returns to his apartment with the injured pet and sees how the cat and its would-be murderer react to one another.

Greed is not a vice we would expect a committed country doctor to succumb to, but how could he possibly resist the delicacy offered to him by two country folk who agree to take him in for the night during a violent storm?  It is the finest cheese he has ever tasted!  His appetite barely sated, the doctor is unable to decline his hosts' invitation to sleep with them in their bed.  With her husband sound asleep, the sexy mistress of the house attracts the doctor's attention and invites him to help himself to what he most desires.  Naturally he gets out of bed and polishes off the rest of the cheese.

Pride is all that Madame de Pallières and her daughter Ann-Marie have left after her husband died and left them with barely enough money to live on.  Ann-Marie turns down a well-meaning invitation from her rich uncle to live with him but accepts some money to pay the electricity bill.  Madame de Pallières is flabbergasted when her daughter uses this money to buy herself a new dress so that she can attend a society ball, hosted by people with whom she is now barely on speaking terms.  The party turns sour when one of the guests loses a valuable emerald.  Everyone agrees to be searched for the missing jewel except Ann-Marie.  Refusing to submit to this humiliation, she walks away leaving behind her bag, which contains just a few scraps of food she had hoped to smuggle away for her mother.

These are the Seven Deadly Sins we are all familiar with.  But, the stallholder assures us, there is one more - the Eighth Deadly Sin - to which we are all prone.  What are we to think when a seemingly respectable man of the cloth arrives in a dingy backstreet and is led by a handsome sailor into a shady-looking building, to be met by muscly Africans clad in nothing but loin cloths?  Also present are a man in drag, someone with an obvious Fu Manchu fetish and a woman who is naked apart from her feather headdress?  Attend carefully, for what we are about to discover is Sin Number Eight, the deadliest of them all...