Et Dieu... créa la femme (1956)
Directed by Roger Vadim

Film Review

God may have created woman but there is no doubt that Roger Vadim created Bardot, the superstar sex kitten of the 1950s and 60s. It was Vadim who introduced the 16-year-old unknown model to film director Marc Allégret (after she had appeared on the cover of Elle magazine), thereby launching her screen career in 1952, and it was Vadim who made Bardot an international star with his first, and best known, film as a director - Et Dieu... créa la femme.  Brigitte Bardot's suddenly acquired celebrity coincided with the start of the sexual revolution and so it was inevitable that the actress would come to symbolise the modern, sexually liberated woman.  Bardot's seductive screen persona in this erotically charged film was intoxicating for both sexes - it depicted what all men desired and what all women wanted to be - a sensual temptress who was not just physically stunning, but also an indomitable free spirit, someone who could make her own choices and not be ashamed to live for the present. 

Et Dieu... créa la femme was consequently one of the most important French films of the 1950s, and its impact on the portrayal of sex in cinema across the western world was far-reaching and pretty well immediate. Predictably, the film was dismissed as immoral in some quarters, and when it was first shown in the United States cuts had to be made to satisfy the censors.  Yet the film was a worldwide hit; in France alone, it attracted an audience of four million, although critical reaction was generally lukewarm.  François Truffaut's characterisation of the film as 'amoral and puritanical' succinctly encapsulates its central shortcoming - it anticipates the sexual revolution but it concludes that nothing will fundamentally change.  The film's ending is to a feminist what a red rag is to a psychopathic bull - a quick slap around the face is all that is needed to tame a self-willed wife and restore order to the conjugal arrangement.  On the face of it, the film is a contradiction - it hails the new era of permissiveness and female emancipation, but it ends by asserting that women should be (and indeed expect to be) brought to heel by the dominant male. It looks as if Roger Vadim is trying to have his cake and eat it - or maybe he is just being a tiny bit ironic?

If it were not for its historical importance, Et Dieu... créa la femme would probably have long since passed into obscurity.  It is a film that barely stands up to even the gentlest of critical scrutiny - the plot is woefully anodyne, the characterisation superficial to the point of being almost undetectable.  The stock characters are bland and unconvincing (despite being played by some pretty distinguished actors) and the story just seems to drift aimlessly and only just makes it to its crass, ill-conceived ending.  How could such an unpromising piece of cinema possibly have had such a huge impact?  The answer is simple: it just happened to catch the Zeitgeist.  When Vadim remade the film in America in 1988 he ended up with a grade-A turkey.  Et Dieu... créa la femme is a film of its time, a time when cinema lost its innocence and began to portray sexuality in the way that modern audiences wanted it to be portrayed.  Watched outside of this time it is practically impossible to imagine the impact the film had - it was in itself something of a revolution.

One of the reasons for the film's massive success in France was that it looked completely unlike any French film that had ever been made up until this point.  Colour and widescreen were still a comparative rarity in French cinema, even as late as the mid 1950s, and so a film that offered both was something of a luxury.  The combination of an attractive location and Armand Thirard's lush colour cinematography made it a particularly eye-pleasing cinema experience.  And it should be remembered that Et Dieu... créa la femme not only created the Bardot myth, it also raised the profile of Saint-Tropez.  Thanks to this film, the quiet fishing village was instantly transformed into a tourist hotspot, so that today's busy holiday resort bears scant resemblance to the peaceful Riviera haven we see in the film.

The media storm that Et Dieu... créa la femme whipped up was to have devastating personal consequences for three of the principal artists associated with it.  During the making of the film, Bardot began an illicit affair with Jean-Louis Trintignant (then a virtual unknown with just a few screen credits to his name).  When journalists got wind of this, the media frenzy that ensued put paid to Bardot's marriage to Vadim and drove Trintignant to temporarily give up acting (he welcomed the obscurity which his military service in Algeria afforded him).  For the next decade and a half, Bardot would never be out of the spotlight and the constant attention from journalists would ultimately take its toll, with the result that after several suicide attempts she gave up acting for good in 1973.  What publicity-conscious filmmakers and sensation-seeking journalists create, they inevitably destroy. 'Twas ever thus...

Film Synopsis

Juliette is an 18-year-old orphan who lives with her foster mother in the small French coastal town of St Tropez.  She is in love with Antoine Tardieu, who owns a local boatyard, but he is in no hurry to marry her and she flirts with Eric Carradine, an older and far wealthier man.  The latter plans to build a new casino in the town, but to do so he must buy up the Tardieus' boatyard, and they are reluctant to sell at any price.  When Juliette's mother threatens to send her flirtatious ward to a convent, Antoine's younger brother Michel seizes his opportunity and persuades Juliette to marry him.  Whilst the marriage proves to be harmonious at first, Juliette's wayward nature soon gets the better of her...