Joël Séria, 1971
Starring: Jeanne Goupil,
Catherine Wagener
Anne and Lore, two teenage friends attending boarding
school in a convent, become bored with life and decide to embrace all that is
evil. Anne addresses her diary entries to “Lord Satan,” they steal communion wafers,
spy on nuns, and read pornography under the covers together when they’re
supposed to be asleep. On summer vacation, Anne’s parents leave her to go to
Europe for two months, and their behavior worsens. They torment a mentally
disabled man and kill his beloved pet birds, goad a cowherd into nearly raping
Lore, and then set his family’s hay bales on fire in response. They previously stole a number of items from
school in order to hold a midnight ceremony, dedicating their lives to Satan.
Things take a more serious turn, when they approach a
businessman stranded by the side of a country road on a rainy night. They
convince him to come back to Anne’s family chateau, where they strip down to
their underwear and tease him. Eventually incensed, he tries to rape Lore and
Anne has to beat him over the head with a piece of wood. This time, it seems,
they have gone too far…
Based on the murder case of Pauline
Parker and Juliet Hulme – also the inspiration for Peter Jackson’s beautiful Heavenly Creatures – director and writer
Joël Séria changed many of the details for this underrated French film, but the spirit of adolescent boredom,
obsessive friendship, and murder remains. Don’t
Deliver Us from Evil is not, strictly speaking, a horror film, though it
will likely appeal to more intellectual horror fans. It’s a disturbing,
psychological portrait of adolescent boredom, the banality of wealth, and
existential despair.
This is a subtle film and it deserves a chance to
work its discomfiting magic. There is very little blood and not any actual sex (though there are a few near rapes), but Don’t Deliver Us from Evil is still more impacting than many other
genre films from the period that deliver plenty of both. The explosive, unexpected
ending where the girls recite Baudelaire’s ”Les morts des amants” in front of
their school is particularly impactful. The conclusion, which I will not fully spoil here, is one of the most memorable in all of '70s cinema. Even if you aren’t a fan of pensive,
carefully-paced European art house films, the ending makes this worth seeing
even for the most callous and seasoned horror fans.
Though this was her first feature film, Jeanne Goupil (Cookies) is captivating as Anne. With
her child-like version of a Bettie Page haircut, sundresses, and slip on shoes,
she wouldn’t be out of place in a 2013 or 2014 film, which makes the film seem
oddly contemporary. It is somewhat easy to relate to her because of her sense of frustration
and boredom. She and Lore seem to be asking, "Isn’t life more than this?" Anne is also an alienating
figure because of her innate cruelty: she tortures and kills animals, and relates to no one but Lore. Even Lore is sometimes subject to her destructive behavior and dangerous games.
The blonde, sweet-looking Catherine Wagener is the ideal
counterpart for Goupil. Lore is the quiet, presumably kinder second in the diabolical
pair. She falls victim to some of Anne’s schemes and is nearly raped; she also cries over some of their exploits. And don’t be alarmed – both of
these actresses were of legal age, though it certainly seems that we are contributing to the thinly veiled undercurrent of pedophilia by watching underage teens strut around in their underwear and part their legs suggestively.
While the girls are likable in some sense, I’m not sure
how Séria accomplished this. They kill the beloved pet birds of the village
idiot, Léon, and giggle while he mourns in anguish. They sexually tease a number
of men, though this half-attempt at a seduction is mixed with humiliation and
degradation. Several times these games incite different men to try to rape
Lore, though she always escapes. They set local haystacks on fire, harass the priest
at their school, and cause persistent mischief if not outright mayhem. The
girls are cruel and callous (or at least attempt to be); sort of like a female
Leopold and Loeb, they do malevolent things just to see if they can get away
from them, out of sheer boredom.
In a way, this reminded me of a Sofia Coppola film gone
incredibly wrong (or right, depending on your perspective). It has some of the
air of The Virgin Suicides and Marie Antoinette, in the sense that it
focuses on financially privileged female characters bored to desperation by life. Their
actions throughout the film are a series of reactions to that pervasive,
stifling boredom. Don’t Deliver Us from
Evil, is, of course, a much better film than anything Sofia Coppola has
managed to direct, though it is spiritually more related to her work than to
Peter Jackson’s Heavenly Creatures.
Finally, there are some wonderful set pieces in the film.
The Satanic ritual, where the girls wear see-through, white dresses and carry
candles out on the lake in the middle of the night, is stunning. They dupe the village idiot into wearing priests robes and leading the ceremony that will officially pledge them into
the service of Satan. Maximum use is
made of the picturesque French countryside and Anne’s crumbling family chateau
is a wonderful addition to the visual world of the film.
Available uncut and restored on DVD
from the wonderful Mondo Macabro, Don’t
Deliver Us from Evil comes highly recommended. It is contemplative and slow
at times, but is mesmerizing, unpredictable, and remains a seemingly timeless
portrayal of the difficulties of youth and middle class life.
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