Teresa Reviews Cinq Petits Cochons (2011)
Cinq Petits Cochons French version of Five Little Pigs (2011)
Translated title is “Five Little Pigs”
(c)2023 by Teresa Peschel
Fidelity to text: 3 poisoned beer bottles
The plot’s there but rewritten to accommodate Lampion’s bid for independence, Caroline’s survival, and the loss of a little pig.
Quality of film: 4½ beer bottles
Gorgeous and evocative. Lampion’s need for self-respect blends well with Carla’s need for understanding.
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Philip Blake is gone but everyone else remains, quite close to the novel. The other major change (beside the usual changes inherent in Les Petits Meurtres d’Agatha Christie) is that Caroline Crale lived.
(Yes, I’m sticking with Agatha’s names rather than type all those vowels wearing little hats.)
This being France, Caroline went to prison but wasn’t guillotined, even though Amyas was poisoned, nor did she die there as in the novel. Why not? Despite the fact she didn’t contest the verdict or fight for her freedom, she was obviously the wronged wife. Her husband, Amyas, was well-known as a cheating dog; she had loads of motivation in the form of him moving his muse and mistress, Elsa, into their home; and adding insult to injury, Elsa made a point of announcing in front of family and friends that when she married Amyas, she’d throw out all of Caroline’s tacky décor. His poisoning followed very shortly thereafter. Since French law allowed for crime passionnel up until the 1970s if the defendant was caught up in the heat of the moment and there was no premeditation, the judicial system and public opinion erred on the side of mercy. Caroline went to jail, but the state didn’t execute her. It would be unusual for a woman to get off, but it wasn’t unheard of. Don’t forget this series is also set in the mid-1930’s.
Times change. Caroline wouldn’t be executed today either, but the rationale would be different.
The other change, inherent in the series, is the focus on the continuing adventures of Larosière and Lampion. Since the opening episode, Les Meurtres ABC (2009) (The ABC Murders), we’ve watched Lampion grow and develop into a fine policeman. He’s insecure and nervous, but he’s smart and willing to work hard. The series uses him for comic effect, making him the butt of the joke, but he’s not. The scriptwriters for Les Meurtres are inconsistent in how competent they make Lampion but he’s no fool.
He contrasts strongly with Larosière, who may be the smartest person in the room, especially compared to everyone else. But Larosière is also bombastic, dominating, easily swayed by a pretty face, and being convinced he’s the smartest person in the room, has decided he doesn’t have to listen to anyone else. He’s also decided that he can treat his junior officers like brain-dead flunkies. In other words, Larosière is a horrible boss. He has no friends that we’ve seen; he’s unable to get along with anyone for long periods of time.
Lampion puts up with the abuse because he genuinely believes that Larosière is the best policeman in France and a genius. When Larosière is able to be honest with himself, he can admit that Lampion is the closest to a son he’ll ever get. Lampion would be a worth successor. But he has to get out of his own way to do that, behavior that doesn’t come nearly as easily as being rude to the point of abusive.
Which is why, early on in this episode, Larosière goes too far and pushes Lampion to do something he never thought he’d do. He’s already been tempted by a shady private detective. You can tell because M. Leblanc wears sharp suits and spectator shoes, which even in France mark a man as not a gentleman but as a knave.
So when Larosière pushes Lampion to the breaking point, he’s got an attractive out. The next time you see Lampion, he’s traded his plus-fours for a sharp suit with a fedora, a scoundrel’s mustache, and spectator shoes. He enjoys the money, he’s good at spying on adulterous spouses, but it’s disheartening. Larosière sneers at him. Which is why when Carla Crale shows up, Lampion is ready to do some real detecting.
For her part, Carla has learned that she’s been lied to for over a decade. Her father did not die of a heart attack, nor did her mother die shortly thereafter of a broken heart. Oh no. Her father wasn’t just a famous painter who died too soon. He was a famous painter and adulterous cad who was murdered by his longsuffering wife, her mother. Who’s still alive and rotting in jail. Carla visits her mother who’s happy to see her but, oddly, refuses to fight the verdict or explain what happened, other than that she didn’t murder her husband. Caroline sticks to her story that no one but her can accept. Amyas committed suicide.
Eventually events come to a head. Lampion follows the lead to Elsa Greer, the stunning, egotistical, raging narcissist muse who seduced Amyas Crale into leaving his wife. She’s a very rich woman on her third husband, and pays off M. Leblanc to stop the investigation, but why? She’s not the kind of woman to care about the embarrassment factor. She’s been the talk of France ever since the murder case.
Leblanc, who has no sense of honor when money is concerned, drops the case. Lampion, who does, swallows his pride and begs for his old job back to continue the investigation. Larosière makes him eat crow; he accepts Lampion back as a lowly apprentice policeman claiming that’s all he can do. But he continues the investigation.
But she destroys herself when she murders Amyas Crale and Caroline refuses to grovel and plead. He used her to get the painting he wanted and was ready to discard her like all the other flings he enjoyed before returning home to Caroline.
The episode is colored by the consequences of pride and selfishness. Caroline lives and is exonerated, and Carla is reunited with her mother and her aunt, Angela. But Caroline has lost Amyas and no one will ever replace him in her heart, not even her daughter or her sister.
