Sans famille (1934)
Directed by Marc Allégret

Film Review

Early in his filmmaking career Marc Allégret distinguished himself with a series of literary adaptations that are now considered his best work.  Allégret's Lac aux dames (1934) and Sous les yeux d'occident (1936) are among the most inspired screen interpretations of novels by Vicki Baum and Joseph Conrad respectively and almost as much praise is owed to his adaptation of Hector Malot's epic 19th century novel Sans famille.  This popular work of French literature had previously been adapted by Georges Monca in 1913 and later by André Michel in 1958, but Allégret's version is by far the one that is most faithful to Malot's original work, not just in its rambling and implausible plot but also in its unflinchingly child's eye view of the world's injustices.  Those not familiar with Malot's novel could easily mistake this for a casual rip-off of Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist, complete with a decidely dodgy leader of a gang of child pickpockets who can't make up his mind if he is Fagin or Bill Sikes.

The unenviable job of compressing Halot's monumental tome into a taut ninety minute film went to André Mouézy-Éon, a well-known author of operettas and stage comedy musicals who had previously scripted Allégret's first comedy, La Meilleure Bobonne (1930).  Although much of the original story is truncated or dispensed with altogether, Mouézy-Éon constructs a beautifully coherent narrative which provided ample scope for location filming, thereby allowing Allégret to return to the naturalistic style of his earlier Pagnol adaptation, Fanny (1932).  The sequences set in sunny Provence in the first half of the film have a familiar Pagnol-esque feel to them and when the action moves to the slum districts of London there is then a noticeable shift towards neo-realism.  Perhaps because so much of it was filmed on location, Sans famille has a modernity and raw immediacy that sets it apart from most other French films of this period, and there is certainly no other film like it in Allégret's oeuvre.

Sans famille is, unusually for a 1930s French film, a melodrama that appeals equally to children and adults, in a similar vein to the umpteen different screen adaptations of Dickens' Oliver Twist.  (Curiously, Allégret's film seems to go out of its way to emphasise the similarities between the two novels, to the extent that David Lean's Oliver Twist feels almost like a remake.)  Even though the cast is awash with characterful character actors (Dorville and Madeleine Guitty form a grotesque couple who make the Thénardiers look like a pair of Good Samaritans), most of the focus ends up being stolen by one cute little monkey (whose demise will you have you in tears for days afterwards) and an even cuter ensemble of child actors.

The star of the film is thirteen-year-old Robert Lynen, the most famous child actor working in France at the time (and it is not hard to see why he was so popular with both directors and audiences).  Lynen had his first break when Julien Duvivier gave him the title role in Poil de carotte (1932), the film him that made him an overnight star.  Lynen appeared in thirteen films but his career was tragically cut short at the age of 23 when he was executed by the Nazis for his Resistance activities during WWII.  Watching him in Sans famille brings home what an incredible loss to French cinema his premature death was.  He is simply captivating.

The most distinguished member of the cast is Vanni Marcoux, an Italian opera singer who had been a great star at the Opéra-Comique in Paris.  This was the last of his four film appearances and (as the other three had been silent films) the only one to make use of his formidable vocal talents.  The most sublime element of Sans famille is the extraordinary on-screen rapport between Marcoux and Lynen  There is a genuine warmth and tenderness to their characters' friendship which exquisitely counterpoints the abuse and brutality that little Rémi would subsequently encounter when his guardian angel is taken from him.  So many of Marc Allégret's films take a bleak and cynical view of human relationships (admittedly, not quite so bleak and cynical as in his brother Yves' films).  Here is one that reminds us that there is good in the world as well as bad, but before Allégret serves up the obligatory happy ending he has a few very nasty shocks in store for us...

Film Synopsis

London.  After the funeral of Lord Mulligan, his brother James intends that he will inherit his fortune. To do so, he hires a crook named Driscoll to abduct and kill Mulligan's rightful heir, three-year-old Robert.  The kidnapper hasn't the heart to murder the child in cold blood and instead he leaves him at the entrance of a church in France.  The abandoned boy is found by a passer-by and ten years later he is living in a village in the south of France, under the name Rémi.  Unable to keep the child any longer, Rémi's adopted father sells him on to a travelling performer Vitalis, who welcomes the boy into his troupe.  Over the ensuing months, Rémi and Vitalis become inseparable and when Fate offers the boy a chance to be adopted by Lady Mulligan he opts to stay with his friend who, unbeknown to him, was once a great opera singer.  When winter comes, Vitalis dies suddenly.  To avoid falling into the hands of a cruel bar owner, Rémi flees with another boy and is soon on his way back to England, believing that Driscoll is his real father...