"Don't Deliver Us from Evil" follows two adolescent schoolgirls in France who, despite their conservative Catholic families and education, indulge in their mutual fascination with evil deeds, culminating in a series of disturbing and tragic events.
Notoriously banned in its native France, "Don't Deliver Us from Evil" is a surprisingly frank and atmospheric depiction of young minds who are inexplicably drawn to wickedness. While the screenplay positions the two lead characters, Anne and Lore, against their conservative surroundings, the girls' acts of depravity and commitment to Satan are rendered in such a way that it seems less about teen rebellion than it does an abstruse interest in "badness" for badness' sake.
There is little exposition or explanation as to what drives the characters' alignment with evil, and, because of that, the film possesses a grim and nihilistic edge that is hard to shake--there is also no tangible supernatural or demonic angle at work here (which one might expect based on the title alone). Instead, the film plays like (and predates) an existential rendition of something like Juan Lopez-Moctezuma's "Alucarda," sans the supernatural dimension. In "Don't Deliver Us from Evil," the protagonists are simply drawn to wickedness like moths to a flame, with no tangible cause.
Visually speaking, the film is gorgeously shot and the countryside locals give it an otherworldly and atmospheric flair, and the performances are uniformly effective. The content itself is at times disturbing, and director Joël Séria's depiction of the events is candid and possesses a realism that renders them even more unsettling.
While the film does not make for a particularly easy viewing, it is an engaging and artsy work that manages to creep under the skin by degrees. As an existential "look into the void" of childhood evil, it stands as one of the most slickly-executed examples; well-made and unforgettable, for better or worse. 9/10.
Notoriously banned in its native France, "Don't Deliver Us from Evil" is a surprisingly frank and atmospheric depiction of young minds who are inexplicably drawn to wickedness. While the screenplay positions the two lead characters, Anne and Lore, against their conservative surroundings, the girls' acts of depravity and commitment to Satan are rendered in such a way that it seems less about teen rebellion than it does an abstruse interest in "badness" for badness' sake.
There is little exposition or explanation as to what drives the characters' alignment with evil, and, because of that, the film possesses a grim and nihilistic edge that is hard to shake--there is also no tangible supernatural or demonic angle at work here (which one might expect based on the title alone). Instead, the film plays like (and predates) an existential rendition of something like Juan Lopez-Moctezuma's "Alucarda," sans the supernatural dimension. In "Don't Deliver Us from Evil," the protagonists are simply drawn to wickedness like moths to a flame, with no tangible cause.
Visually speaking, the film is gorgeously shot and the countryside locals give it an otherworldly and atmospheric flair, and the performances are uniformly effective. The content itself is at times disturbing, and director Joël Séria's depiction of the events is candid and possesses a realism that renders them even more unsettling.
While the film does not make for a particularly easy viewing, it is an engaging and artsy work that manages to creep under the skin by degrees. As an existential "look into the void" of childhood evil, it stands as one of the most slickly-executed examples; well-made and unforgettable, for better or worse. 9/10.