National Lampoon's Deadly Sins isn't the first thing people think of when they reminisce about the 1970s comedy boom. Honestly, most folks jump straight to Animal House or the iconic magazine covers featuring a dog with a gun to its head. But for the hardcore collectors and comedy historians, this 1977 special edition remains a fascinating, grimy, and undeniably weird artifact from a time when National Lampoon was basically the center of the satirical universe.
It was a weird era. The magazine was pivoting. The original founders like Doug Kenney and Henry Beard had largely moved on or were busy with Hollywood, and the "second wave" of writers was trying to figure out how to be even more transgressive than the guys who came before them. The result was a collection of stories and visual gags centered around the seven deadly sins—Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride—but filtered through a lens of 1970s cynicism and suburban decay.
Why National Lampoon's Deadly Sins Is Still a Cult Classic
The thing about National Lampoon's Deadly Sins is that it arrived right as the brand was hitting its commercial peak. We’re talking about a period where the Lampoon wasn't just a magazine; it was a radio show, a stage play, and soon-to-be a massive film franchise. This specific anthology felt like a middle finger to the growing commercialization of the brand. It was raw.
The Art of Being Offensive
Satire is a tricky beast. Today, people talk about "cancel culture," but back in '77, the writers for National Lampoon were actively trying to get sued or banned. They leaned into the "Deadly Sins" theme with a level of nihilism that you just don't see anymore. It wasn't just about being funny; it was about being uncomfortable.
Take the "Gluttony" section, for instance. Instead of just making jokes about people eating too much, they went for the jugular of American consumerism. They portrayed it as a terminal disease. The illustrations—often handled by legends like Rick Meyerowitz or Bruce McCall—were hyper-detailed and gross. You could almost smell the stale cigarettes and cheap polyester coming off the pages.
The Talent Behind the Mayhem
You can't talk about this anthology without mentioning the sheer volume of talent involved. Even though the "Old Guard" was transitioning out, you still had fingerprints from some of the most influential minds in comedy history. Writers like P.J. O'Rourke and Brian McConnachie were in the mix. These were guys who understood that for a joke to really land, it had to have a bit of a mean streak.
- P.J. O'Rourke: His brand of conservative-leaning satire added a layer of intellectual grit.
- Rick Meyerowitz: His "Mona Gorilla" is legendary, but his work in the Sins anthology pushed the boundaries of caricature.
- Gahan Wilson: His macabre, jiggly-lined cartoons fit the "Sins" theme perfectly because his work always felt like it was decaying from the inside out.
Breaking Down the Seven Sins (Lampoon Style)
The structure of National Lampoon's Deadly Sins was intentionally chaotic. It didn't follow a clean 1-through-7 format because that would be too organized for a magazine that prided itself on anarchy. Instead, it was a collage.
Lust was handled with the typical '70s "skin magazine" parody, but it was so exaggerated it became grotesque. It wasn't erotic; it was a critique of how desperate and sad the "sexual revolution" had become for some people. They weren't mocking the act; they were mocking the obsession.
Sloth was perhaps the most relatable. They envisioned a world where doing nothing was elevated to a high art form. It wasn't just laziness; it was a total withdrawal from society. In many ways, it predicted the "slacker" culture that wouldn't fully emerge for another twenty years.
Wrath focused on the simmering rage of the middle class. Think about the post-Vietnam, post-Watergate malaise. Everyone was pissed off, and the Lampoon captured that by showing suburbanites losing their minds over the smallest inconveniences. It was Falling Down a decade before that movie existed.
The Physicality of the 1977 Edition
If you've ever held an original copy of National Lampoon's Deadly Sins, you know it feels different. The paper stock was often varying qualities—some glossy, some matte—which gave it this "found object" vibe. It wasn't a sleek, modern production. It was a messy, ink-stained labor of love.
Collectors today hunt for this specific issue because it represents the "High Satire" period before the brand became synonymous with "National Lampoon’s [Insert Generic Vacation Movie Here]." By the mid-80s, the bite was gone. But in '77, the teeth were still sharp.
What Most People Get Wrong About This Era
People think National Lampoon was just about "piss and moan" jokes. They think it was all low-brow. That’s a mistake. The writers of National Lampoon's Deadly Sins were Harvard Lampoon alumni. They were classically educated. When they tackled "Envy" or "Pride," they were often referencing Milton, Dante, and the Bible, then dragging those concepts through the mud.
It was high-brow talent doing low-brow humor. That's the secret sauce. If it were just gross-out gags, we wouldn't be talking about it nearly fifty years later. We talk about it because it was smart enough to know exactly why it was being stupid.
The Legacy of the Sins
Does National Lampoon's Deadly Sins hold up? Sort of. Some of the jokes are incredibly dated. The 1970s were a very different time in terms of what was considered acceptable in print. There are bits that would never fly today, not because they’re "edgy," but because they’re just products of a less sensitive era.
However, the spirit of it—the idea that nothing is sacred—is the DNA of everything from South Park to The Onion. You can see the direct line from the "Greed" section of this anthology to the Wall Street satires of the 80s and the corporate parodies of today.
How to Find a Copy and What to Look For
If you’re looking to add this to your collection, you’re mostly looking at secondary markets like eBay or specialized comic book shops. There wasn't a massive "Prestige Edition" reprint of this like there was for some of the other specials.
- Check the spine. These were thick issues and the glue tends to crack after 40+ years.
- Look for the "Special Edition" branding on the cover. It’s distinct from the monthly issues.
- Verify the year. There have been other "Sins" themed comedy projects over the years, but the 1977 National Lampoon version is the gold standard.
Honestly, even if you just find a digital scan, it's worth a look. It’s a time capsule of a moment when comedy felt dangerous.
Final Actionable Steps for Comedy Historians
If you want to truly understand the impact of National Lampoon's Deadly Sins, don't just look at the pictures. Read the long-form pieces.
- Compare and Contrast: Read a piece from the "Greed" section and then look at modern corporate satire. You'll see that the targets haven't changed, only the technology they use.
- Research the Artists: Look up the individual bibliographies of guys like Gahan Wilson. Seeing his work in the context of this anthology helps you understand the "horror-comedy" crossover that the Lampoon mastered.
- Contextualize the Year: 1977 was the year Star Wars came out. It was the year of the NYC Blackout. Understanding the chaotic environment of the late 70s explains why the humor in this anthology is so jagged and cynical.
The National Lampoon's Deadly Sins anthology remains a testament to a time when satire didn't have to be "important" or "uplifting." It just had to be true, and usually, the truth was pretty ugly. That ugliness is exactly what made it so funny. Grab a copy if you can find one, but don't expect a polite read. Expect a riot.