Showing posts with label erotic tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erotic tales. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Eiichi Yamamoto's BELLADONNA OF SADNESS: Blu-ray debut of the restored and rediscovered masterpiece of erotic animation


A "must" for anyone who appreciates animation, eroticism, and/or the culture and spirit of the 1970s, BELLADONNA OF SADNESS -- a Japanese anime originally released in 1973 (but never seen theatri-cally here in the USA until 2016) and based on the French erotic novel, La Sorcière, by Jules Michelet -- is so very different from the kind of animation we get these days that it seems almost quaint. Yet within that quaintness resides a wealth of eroticism and wonder.

As directed by Eiichi Yamamoto (shown at right), with art directions by Kuni Fukai and a succulent, of-its-time-period musical score by Masahiko Sato (the time period in question is the 1970s, rather than the medieval era in which the story is set), the movie tells the tale of young lovers Jean and Jeanne (shown below in one of their happy times) who, on their wedding night are summarily separated by the Lord of their village and his nasty wife. Jeanne is repeatedly raped by that Lord and his men, while Jean is tossed out of the castle to find his way home, alone.

Already we're in the realm of class, economics, sex, rape, religion (the town priest looks on at these goings-on with utter benignity), the psychology of self-loathing, and feminism -- seen, of course, via the eyes (and the paintbrush) of the male. Naturally, the female of the species isn't simply the victim here; she's the perpetrator, too. Ah, Eve: you naughty, naughty girl!

What makes the animation so lavish and lush -- and utterly different from what we're used to these days -- is its simplicity, symbolism, use of color, and in particular, its use to white space. Take the initial rape (above): the combo of sudden violence, jagged art and dense and pounding music makes the moment something of a staggerer.

What's oddest about the animation is that is rarely moves much. And yet the colors -- whether bright and saturated, pastel (above) or intricately shaded (below) -- are quite magical to view. As we learn of the ups and down of our gorgeous couple (mostly downs, unfortunately), we also meet Jeanne's "saviour," who turns out to the devil --first appearing to our heroine in the guise of what looks suspiciously like a little penis (below), and very soon he is doing all those pleasurable things for which the penis is best known.

Before you can say, "Sell me your soul, sweetie!" Jeanne does just that, in order to exact some revenge upon her "Lord." But revenge, which constitutes the remainder of the tale, turns out to be rarely sweet, often ugly, and almost always erotic.

And true to the times -- then, now, and forever, it would seem -- it's the Lord's wife (above, center left) who is punished most (along with her page, extreme left: ah, class distinctions!), while the Lord (center, right) and his Priest get off scot-free.

Along the way Jeanne gets fucked by Satan, which becomes one hell of a light show culminating in a riot of all the colors, styles and time frames you could ask for, followed by one of the most all-out sexual orgies that animation has ever given us, as though Picasso and Bosch had joined forces but confined themselves to the use of only happy, bright, approaching-day-glo colors.

The Black Plague? Of course!  And how well it is done, decimating an entire city in seething black-and-white animation. Finally Jean and Jeanne do get it on -- in the sweetest of the segments, all pastels -- and then we quickly return to the bad times once again.

But even those bad times are hugely erotic -- notice how the smoke from a burning-at-the-stake curls around and into every orifice with such sinuous glee -- all accompanied by Masahiko's signature 70s music that will take you pleasurably back in time. The film's final shot, by the way, is a hoot and a half -- and thoroughly anti-church.

On the Blu-ray extras are some very good interviews with director, art director and composer that give us some history of each man, as well as his approach to what he felt was needed for this particular movie. Also included is the original Japanese trailer for the film, plus the current trailers, both red-band and green.  (The film is also said to include eight minutes of explicit footage, rescued from the sole surviving release print. As explicit it is may be for its time, however, don't expect much, maybe any, male full-frontal.)

After its 50-plus theatrical engagements across the country, Belladonna of Sadness -- from Cinelicious and The CineFamily -- hits the street this coming Tuesday, July 12, on both Blu-ray and VOD -- for purchase or rental. Just make sure the kids are in bed before you watch, or you will have an awful lot of questions to field....

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Butterflies, S&M sex games, an all-female society and Borgen's Sidse Babett Knudsen highlight Peter Strickland's THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY


Not having been blown away (I was mildly impressed) with Peter Strickland's last film, Berberian Sound Studio, TrustMovies was at least more prepared for this auteur's newest ramble into the kind of bizarre visual world that can only be accessed via film. In its opening moments, THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY (the title refers to Hamearis lucina, a butterfly also known by this titular name) initially seems like a typically lovely European film: gorge-ous photography of a small country village, with babbling stream, plentiful greenery and charming architecture.

Ah, but what mysteries reside in this bucolic landscape! For one thing, there ain't no men. That's right: We're in a world of only women, no matter where we turn or go or look or lay our head, at work or at play -- it's all gals, all the time. Interestingly, nothing is made of this fact. It simply exists as a given.

Are we in an alternate universe in which men don't exist? Or this this some strange, fantasy dream? (The movie does indeed seem like a dream -- if not an outright nightmare -- from time to time.) Could this be meant as something psychological -- men's fears/fantasies of what women would get up to if given their rein/ reign? You'd have to ask these questions of writer/director Strick-land, pictured at right, and even then, the fellow might not be so forthcoming, for film-makers often prefer that you work a bit to ferret out meanings.

Meaning may not come so easily here, but I think you will have some fun and games just watching the goings-ons, which involve two attractive and sensual women, one of whom -- Sidse Babett Knudsen, at left, above, who played the lead in one of  the best television series ever made (Borgen, from Denmark) -- is worth seeing here in quite a different role.

The other woman, Chiara D'Anna, above, left, is younger, less tutored and more subservient. Or so it would seem. The Duke of Burgundy is also about role playing and shifting identities. Like a dream, the movie floats along, refusing to be pinned down. It is also, like a dream, quite repetitive, except that dreams, or so they tell us, take place very quickly. This one goes on for 104 minutes, which is good deal longer than its content -- however bizarre, sensual and transgressive it initially seems -- can handle.

Still, amidst the re-occurring sexual games there are a few upticks along the way, the chief among these being the visit to our pair by a woman (Eugenia Caruso, above) who specializes in what appears to be the procuring of some very odd sexual equipment for the bathroom. Along the way, you'll take stock of this relationship and realize that it is probably quite difficult to keep an S&M bond fresh and fun when one partner has an urgent need for masochism while the other isn't truly a sadist.

You may also imagine that you've wandered into a movie made by Radley Metzger, now working in tandem with Peter Greenaway -- not a particularly happy blend. Someone has called this film a melodrama, but it is hardly that. Or at least not a good melodrama -- which needs pace and plot and a little fire. After an initial viewing, The Duke of Burgundy seems all naughty titillation trying to approach sophisticated decadence.

Fun for awhile and certainly sometimes a visual treat, the movie -- from Sundance Selects/IFC Films -- opens this Friday, January 23, in New York City (at the IFC Center) and Los Angeles (at Landmark's NuArt), and simultaneously on VOD in most major markets.