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Storie Scellerate clearly belongs to the family of Pasolini's Trilogia della vita, although perhaps it's a poor relation of sorts, at any rate an embittered one. It bears a superficial resemblance to the Decameron, bathed in sunlight and swathed in colours: although it's set in the nineteenth century rather than the fourteenth, the difference is at most superficial, often negligible. But its mood is as dark as Canterbury which is the darkest of the Trilogy: sex is paid for in blood, and murders by colder, judicial murders. One way or another, the order of the world revenges itself - nastily - on transgressors, even if the final Last Judgement (if that's not tautologous) allows a fleeting moment of wry optimism. That last judgement, which is another thing the film has in common with its two siblings, is original, understated and unequivocally natural, but it only makes an imaginary difference to the dénouement. It's vibrant, violent, pessimistic, sunny, sordid and rarely tender, with a tighter structure than The Canterbury Tales and some rather heavy-handed social satire. Not, perhaps, a masterpiece, but not to be ignored.
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