Controversy and Good Reviews

So the Hollywood machine continues to dictate what we, as adult consumers, are and are not allowed to look at.

NO LOVE FOR LEPUS

From Severin Films:

One day following its heralded release, a prominent US retailer has unceremoniously returned all copies of IMMORAL WOMEN due to what has been reported as its ‘offensive’ packaging. Despite the fact that the cover art replicates imagery used on its 1979 theatrical posters, morally sensitive folk at the chain found the suggestive shots of bunny-lust to be too much for their customers. We are currently investigating how this will affect the immediate release of IMMORAL WOMEN and may be forced to consider a toned-down cover for future pressings. We’ll keep you posted.

In other puritan news, the facility that creates our subtitles today ejected both the regular X Rated and XXX Rated European cuts of EMANUELLE AROUND THE WORLD from their facility due to ‘inappropriate content’. We’re now searching for a subtitle house with less of an aversion to Mr. D’Amato’s unique vision and hope this does not necessitate a delay in the 3/27 street date of BLACK EMANUELLE’S BOX.

We're getting a lot of support from fans and reviewers out there, as evidenced, for example, by CHUD.

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But rather than dwell on the negative, we made it into the Week in Sleaze again: read it HERE.

10K Bullets says of Private Collections: "Severin Films have done an amazing job bringing another classic erotica film to DVD with their solid DVD presentation and handful of interesting extras."

And of Immoral Women: "Immoral Woman is another classic tale of erotica from Walerian Borowczyk and now it can be appreciated in all of its glory via Severin Films exquisite DVD release."

And here's a very positive review for our Private Collections DVD from our good pal William Simmons:

PRIVATE COLLECTIONS

William P. Simmons

In 1979 three of the world's most stylish, intellectually independent erotic filmmakers were invited by French producer Pierre Braunberger to produce a monumental erotic collection of fantasies. Just Jaeckin (Emmanuelle), Walerian Borowczyk (The Beast) and Shuji Terayama (Fruits of Passion) each drew upon cultural taboos, private obsessions, and a host of fetishistic desires to direct a loosely bound anthology of sin and sensibility with an aura of
supernatural tension and fantasy. The results were as emotionally scathing and poetic as they were rawly erotic, merging the primal instincts of the flesh with
the loftier ideals of liberation and consciousness. Appearing for the first time complete in the US, Severin Films presents this ode to sexual titillation
and the surreal transferred from the original negatives, and gives devotees of erotica and European cult films a reason to celebrate!

The first entry is also the most surprising and immediately satisfying, working on the senses and intellect rather like a Strindberg ‘dream’ play as a
misleadingly simplistic narrative undermines our sense of logic and expectation ... from within. “L'île aux sirènes," filmed by Just Jaeckin (having made a name for himself with Emmanuelle), casts the always exotic Laura Gemser as a siren-like nymph inhabiting an island with her lovely -- and hungry! -- sisters. When a shipwrecked sailor (Roland Blanche) drifts to the island after falling overboard a sail ship, his struggle to survive is interrupted by ghostly, fleeting glimpses of lovely dark skin blinking in the sunshine. Before you know it, he’s caught Gemser, they frolic in the surf, and he’s brought to a gathering of other naked ladies. For a brief time, this lucky fellow roots and wallows paradise,
worshipped and fed, given sexual access to one and all. No good thing last forever, though, and he soon discovers the lady’s interesting dietary habits. What began as a wet dream threatens to become a chunk-blowing nightmare. Disturbing and graphic in scenes, this is an expressionistic riff on the cannibal and femme fatal theme that only loses steam -- and contradicts its own beauty -- by the trite plot device at the end.

Next up is a visual piece of skin poetry by Japanese director Shuji Terayama. "Kusa-Meiku" may be the most bizarre, visually challenging examination of danger and sexual obsession in the collection, featuring a young naïve village boy haunted/sexually provoked by an insane neighbor. The boy’s mother strives to warn him against/protect him from this woman, going to extremes to isolate him. The boy suffers himself to bondage and pain to distract him from the sexual
allure of his neighbor, but her hunger -- and the secrets she seems to harbor-- overcome his reluctance, and a bizarre history/relationship are revealed amidst
such surreal images as severed heads, nightmarishly large spiderwebs, and demonic manifestations. A chaotic symbiosis of sex and the fantastic, this
erotic warning breathes with the dark foreboding of a horror story, and is simply mind blowing in its intensity and blitzkrieg of images.

The last title, while not as rich thematically (nor as inventive), is just as beautiful to look at. Borowczyk's "L'Armoir" further suggests that director’s eye for startling imagery and the sexually chagred possibilities of the past. Taken from the ingenious pen of author Guy De Maupassant (whose best, most disturbing work came near the end of his life in an insane asylum) is a slice of mood, depending more on the establishment of mood than on narrative structure. A meeting between a prostitute (Conti) and her rather wealthy client (Maurin) are used as coat racks upon which to hang the director’s obsession with weird, lush images. Plot development is largely cast aside. But that won’t matter for devotees of this man’s work, who will thrill to such visions as a carousel filled with call girls.

Unapologetic, irreverent, and energetic, these directors were each highly skilled, individualistic visionaries. Renowned as much by devoted fans as they are reviled by mainstream critics, their work confuses and irritates, challenging conceptions with over-the-top visual excess, fetish imagery, and a
dream-logic that subverts rationalism. Often there is no attempt at logic, and these filmmakers defy the traditional narrative role of the storyteller, becoming instead surrealistic painters of celluloid madness, scattering joyfully amoral visions across beaten and bendable flesh. Flesh is featured in all of its pleasures and deviancy, as people -- primarily women -- are celebrated as playthings, conquests, and finally threats. These cinematic examinations of lust and joy, pleasure and pain are equal parts seduction and fanaticism, juxtaposing the liberation of sexual freedom with the emotional entrapment that accompanies
all physical expression.

Even the least successful of these pieces are akin to a sexual form of terrorism, attacking us where we feel most safe, raising hell with cinematic conventions,
challenging personal expectations, and obliterating established ideals of morality. They are as pleasurable as they are eye opening. In this, the film is as much philosophically rooted art as it is daringly exploitative. Even in those few movies where genius is replaced by lethargy, an uneven albeit intriguing sense of chaotic brilliance remains. Thankfully, this enthusiasm and subversive perception often imbues excessively erotic period splendor with timeless themes. More importantly, a thoughtful subtext throbs beneath the erections and panting
bosoms, lending a satisfyingly emotional and intellectual subtext to the scintillating sex.

Though visual quality changes according to director and segment, the quality of the disc itself is commendable, particularly in the first and second chapters, where colors are bold and sensual, merging fantasy with stark realism, and flesh tones rendered convincingly. Featured in 1.66:1, this is perhaps the best the film will ever look on DVD. Audio features original French and Japanese soundtracks with optional English subs. Also on hand is an alternate,
partially-English-dubbed soundtrack. Of the two, the first track offers the best comprehension and quality. Extras for Private Collections include a tempting
theatrical trailer, director bios, and an interview with Jaeckin, wherein he discusses his career in general with specific mentions of Gemser, the film at
hand, etc.

The reviews are rolling in - everyone loves those IMMORAL WOMEN!

First up, two nice reviews for Immoral Women and Private Collections from Rock'n Roll Purgatory.

A true honor: Immoral Women was mentioned in Paul Gaita's "This Week in Sleaze" over at the Sleazegrinder site.

Peter Sobczynski serves up the cleverly-titled "Jess One of Those Things" to review Macumba Sexual and Mansion of the Living Dead over at EFilmcritics.com.

The January 26th episode of The Dead Pit featured the good ol' boys taking on Macumba Sexual.

And here's a review for Immoral Women from one of our favorite buddies, William Simmons from SexGoreMutants:

IMMORAL WOMEN
William P. Simmons

Walerian Borowczyk proved himself as capable of investigating the internal nature of men and women as he was their sexual adventures -- often with the same scandalous and poetic depth. Many of his films expose a deep, abiding interest in not only raw earthly pleasures but also the psychological processes -- the needs and hungers and fears -- that lead up to them.

In Immoral Tales, he traced the struggle of lusty individuals for freedom. In Immoral Women, he continues this theme, mirroring the joyful, natural decadence of sexual passion with the visually surreal. Capturing women in a variety of situations (both sexual and political), he is careful to depict sex as both a pleasure and power struggle, weapon and toy. In the meantime, he also has much to say about the evolving, often treacherous nature of emotional love,
gender wars, and the hypocrisy of the church -- smut with a conscience! Bororwczyk’s cultural criticism can’t be ignored, as his scathing condemnation of church and state are as evident and bold as the naked flesh in his frames. This is particularly true in Immoral Women, wherein deception and the search for profit is often revealed as just another dimension of sex, which is surly as emotional as it is a physical act.

Following in the long line of anthology formats revolving around a similar theme or unifying thread, Immoral Women is a collection of four small films that examine the taboo desires of a quartet of erotically charged, intelligent and quite resourceful women. Going boldly where others feared to tread, Borowczyk features a carnal catalogue of depravities both visually provoking and thematically taboo. Ranging from the simply lurid to the bestial, the tone of each
chapter is informed by the nature of the particular passion explored. Therefore danger stands alongside enticement, the forbidden with the sexually explicit. Mood and emotion never take second place to the exploitation of bare flesh. The driving desires behind each of the luscious ladies, and the psychological obsessions from which they stem, connect the salacious images to emotional themes that lend deeper meaning to what would otherwise simply be a
simplistic (if good looking) fetishistic catalogue of sex acts. While honest emotional drives and literary themes enhance the sexual obsessions, imagery takes precedence over plot, for they are not traditionally plotted narratives so much as flashes of emotion and insight, sexual revelations closer to the epiphany stories of a smut-peddling James Joyce than a traditionalist story teller.

The first episode is Margherita, centering around Marina Pierro, the daughter of a baker sexually pursued by an artist and moneylender. Loving a local tradesman, she allows herself to become an object of devotion for a painter, enticing both him and the moneylender Bini to get what she wants. This Chaucer-like plot descends into exploitative intrigue tempered by a poetic storm of sensual imagery and stark contrasts between tone, ranging from the dramatic to the cartoonish. Flesh and art, the human body and architecture, are merged into an uneven if eventful whole in this parable of lust and love. A riot of color and bawdy humor, certain scenes border on the surreal, and the fragmented storyline and funhouse atmosphere only add to the joyous feeling of chaos. This episode is a celebration of sexuality at once both enticing and artfully restrained, appealing as much to the brain as to the libido.

The second entry, Marceline, is also the most infamous, centering around a voluptuous young thing who has developed a strange, naughty bond with her pet bunny. While words alone do little service to the unsettling and rather insane premise, suffice it so say that this isn’t a film to show the kiddies at Easter! A rather troubling piece of celluloid, this scene alone begs for comment, and is in itself worth the price of admission. Equally shocking and tender, this outrageous, inappropriate scene easily leads to questions of moral conscience and where one’s own tastes and preferences stand. No matter where you weigh in, that scene, and the story as a whole, is a brazen, thoughtful work of, yes, art, calculated and executed so as to arouse thought -- and more than a few chuckles.

Marie, the final entry, can’t help but disappoint after the twisted imagery and scandalous nods of the first two stories. More of a parody of sexuality than a tale proper, the brief episode feels uncompleted and immature compared with the rest. Still, the sly winks and humor -- and the imagistic flourishes -- redeem it, allowing us to appreciate its simplistic good humor. Modern France is the setting, drenching the frames with style and a bustling, riotous sense of life. When Marie (Pascale Chrisophe) is kidnapped by a blackmailer and held for ransom, her husband attempts to humor her captor. Proving ineffectual, the husband is upstaged by the family dog, and his canine rescue pays off in unexpected ways. Yet anothernod to a fetishistic interest in intimacy between animals and humans, the humor keeps the tone light, again arousing both a sense of disorientation, disgust, and awe.

Condemned as a pornographer by self-appointed culture warriors and loved by the faithful few who shared his child-like delight in human sexual expression, many critics and fans simply didn’t understand either this director’s stories or his style. A shame, considering he offers so much both visually and subject wise. His individualistic approach to art, combining the profane with the pornographic, also combines the philosophical with the visceral. His fetishistic fables evoke raw sensationalism with emotional urgency, finding the intimate in the universal and the cosmic in such animalistic acts as copulation. Walking a tight-rope between exploitation and sensitive characterization, Borowczyk’s best work occupies its own dimension -- somewhere between scandalous smut and intellectual challenge. In any case, he is never less than enthralling, and even those who can’t embrace his cinematic style or choice of content can appreciate his daring and artistic sensibility.

Awe, eroticism, passion, and humor are embraced throughout. The sexual symbolism and thematic subtext suggest the idolatry and sexual relationship implicit/suggested in the external mechanics of external behavior on one hand, and the primal organic simplicity of the sexual act on the other . . . Or maybe this is simply avant garde smut, featuring bunny loving and doggy favors in a poetic manner as the director pours mood and style into unique compositions. Each of the three chapters merge sexual explicitness with philosophic integrity. At best, these visions challenge our current or previously gleaned perceptions about the nature of reality, ourselves, and the curious relationship between the body and the mind -- no small feat for a film where a girl who gets it on with a bunny! The sexual levels of each piece are clearly above average softcore fluff yet the sex acts are never captured with the penetration or simplicity of pornography. Style pours from every frame, and while undeniably erotic, the lush coloring schemes and framing shots -- as well as the uneasy elegance of the settings -- combine to
achieve emotion, not simply erections. While the obvious focus on sex occasionally distracts from potentially more interesting themes, Borowczyk manages to depict self-satisfied humanity as nothing more or less than an animal, ruled by instinctive drive and pleasure.

Severin treats Immoral Women with the dedication one would expect a major company to lavish on Citizen Kane. Simply put, this is a gorgeous transfer from the original negative, clear and crisp with minor grain and distortions that probably originated from the film itself, not the transfer. The 16x9 enhanced video transfer sports highly defined color schemes, retaining the beauty of flesh tones and natural skies alike. A far cry from the dubs and fourth generation
copies making the rounds, this version is uncensored and considerably clean. Audio is just as proficient, offered in French language with optional English subs as well as a dubbed English option! Kudos for going the extra mile in this as in so many other aspects for this significant release of one of the cinema’s most original, misunderstood, yet consistently engaging poets of carnality and liberation. The soundtrack can be played in the original French with optional
subtitles or a not-bad English dub track. Extras include a thorough Borowzcyk bio by Richard Harland Smith and the evocative European theatrical trailer.

Extras, while slight, are worth spending time with -- unlike many people you may know. First off is a brief, concise, and routinely informative bio by Richard Harland Smith. Getting to the skinny of the director with panache, this is a splendid introduction to the auteur. The only other extra is a trailer, that flashes by with the elegiac splendor of a dream -- fluid and invigorating!