Les salauds vont en enfer

I have a problem watching Robert Hossein as a director as much as I do as an actor. I sense an obsession with evil in man that I find unhealthily Manichean. ' Les Salauds vont en Enfer ' is a particularly nasty example and I believe Hossein's debut as a director. The first part takes place in a real hell of a prison and guillotine executions are somehow seen as normal. This first part indeed shows the evil that society only perpetuates by the cruellest of punishments. In the second part two escaped prisoners escape to a landscape that provides another hell of its own, and in between this ' natural ' punishment a 17 year old played by Marina Vlady seeks revenge. Why she seeks it is not only due to their desire for her, but something else which would be a spoiler. Both Serge Reggiani and Henri Vidal do their best with one-dimensional roles, and there is a gloating pleasure in the direction watching suffering. There is not a glimmer of hope anywhere in this scenario, and I agree with the reviewer that the music was totally wrong for the film. Visually there are a few arresting images, but this is not enough for the whole cinematic misery of it all. Hell to watch.

Good directing and acting too, typical of the French crime or drama movies from the fifties. Henri Vidal and Serge Reggiani are awesome in their roles, but the overall scheme is so classic, overused, with the unavoidable femme fatale; here Marina Vlady who was at this time Robert Hossein's spouse. This is not really a crime film, not entirely, rather a drama, character study. I prefer Auguste Le Breton's adaptations: RIFIFI, LE ROUGE EST MIS, but that's a matter of taste after all. I did not read Frederic Dard's novel - or stage play - which it is adapted from. Robert Hossein was involved in some other Dard's stuff adaptings: TOI LE VENIN, LES SCELERATS, but also from James Hadley Chase - MEFIEZ VOUS FILLETTES, CHAIR DE POULE; and Auguste Le Breton: BRIGADE ANTI GANGS, DU RIFIFI CHEZ LES FEMMES, RIFIFI CHEZ LES HOMMES.... Marina Vlady is so gorgeous here.

Les salauds vont en enfer (The Wicked Go to Hell) is directed by Robert Hossein and Hossein co-adapts the screenplay with René Wheeler from the Frédéric Dard play. It stars Marina Vlady, Henri Vidal and Serge Reggiani. Music is by André Hossein and cinematography by Michel Kelber.

Two escaped convicts hole up at a beach house and get more than they bargained for...

1955 was the year that Robert Hossein starred in Jules Dassin's brilliant crimer, Rififi, it was also the year where he began his directing career with this splendid slice of Frenchie film noir. Pic is very much a two parter, first part focuses on our two protagonists in prison. Standard prison noir rules are adhered to, with the shadows of the bars suitably oppressive, the murky confinements of the surroundings offering up a feeling of sorrowful pessimism. There's even a strong narrative thread that says one of the men may be a rat, which is a problem since they share a cell together! But they want out, and we want them out because we feel their claustrophobia in that there dank miserable prison.

Then the story goes outside, it's all airy, with sunshine even, but this is noir so darkness is never far away. It's here where we are introduced to our femme fatale, who comes in the form of Eva, played as crafty and sensual by Vlady. A turn of events has brought the three of them together, and as the story plays out there's a whole ream of human traits, foibles and wiles on show. It's all very deliciously sly, a trinity bouncing off of each other with a blend of mistrust and sexual energy. Which shunts us uneasily, yet in eager anticipation as well, towards the finale. Hossein (who also plays a part in the film) knows his noir, and he knows that the best noirs do not cop out at the end. Thus we have, well, the ending here.

The only misstep here is the musical score. Scored by Hossein's father, it's far too old school for the play on show, it would be more at home in a silent chiller of the 20s, or some Tod Slaughter twirling moustache horror of the 30s. A shame, for even though it isn't a film killer, a better and more tonally aware composition would have elevated this nifty noir to a grade higher. Also be advised that the subtitles don't hang around, read quickly folks! 8/10