Every now and again, a filmmaker is brave enough to flaunt narrow cliches like "don't include graphic breast amputation in your fluff erotica" or "generally speaking, a scene of a woman jacking off a horse isn't the best segue into lesbian sex." When this happens, movies like "Emanuelle in America" get made. Notorious for its bestiality and faux snuff sequences, this film swings wildly from sensual erotica to disturbingly graphic grue in a way that makes the mind reel. The multiple personality disorder of this movie is incredibly disorienting and--I'll confess--more than a little entertaining. I genuinely did not know what director Joe D'Amato would show next--would I be aroused or completely disgusted? Or would I just be treated to a parade of say-something moustaches?
Inspired by Just Jaeckin's glossy 1974 film "Emmanuelle," tracking the sexual awakening of a young globe-trotter, "Emanuelle in America" is part of the slew of non-copyright-infringement flicks that followed. The Emanuelle/Emmanuelle films share a penchant for exotic settings, beautiful leading ladies, and wall-to-wall sex scenes. The "Black Emanuelle" films, featuring exotic beauty Laura Gemser, are the most notorious of the series, and for good reason. These movies are true mind-fucks of sleaze cinema. I'd only scratched the surface of the kinkiness with "Sister Emanuelle." Let's face it--nothing can really prepare one for a movie like "Emanuelle in America." Even knowing that his was "the snuff one" of the series, I still sat with my mouth agape through much of the ninety minutes of this movie.
"EiA" plays like a catalog of perversions--threesomes, orgies, horses, sex in every orifice, and some unexpected hardcore inserts to season the mix. The 1970s were great decade for slutty journalists, and the Emanuelle character is the most famous of these. Splitting her time between totally groovy photo shoots in her totally groovy studio and traveling the globe in search of juicy sex-related exposes, Emanuelle is one busy proponent of free love. Minutes into the film, she has changed the life of a potential murderer by giving him Mouth Love in her car. Ahhhh the sweet, simple joys of Porn Logic! Emanuelle is a lot like James Bond--she gives her real name all the time, publishes scandalous and widely-read revelations relating to the private lives of the upper class, and yet still gets invited to people's parties. Seriously--the girl is hott and everything, but she always has that damn tiny camera secreted in some piece of enormous, gaudy jewelry.
Let's take a moment to go over the four stories that Emanuelle investigates. Why four stories? Well, D'Amato recognizes the importance of the "Someone, Somewhere Is Wanking" rule and gives a little nugget of sexellence for every taste (even if it's not usually yours).
First Story--Emanuelle infiltrates the Zodiac-themed harem of a wealthy American industrialist. Why the Zodiac? Because it's 1976, baby! Each girl supposedly has a unique zodiac-related sex technique, and is known only by the name of her sign. Emanuelle gets into all sorts of shenanigans--there are two scenes of lesbianism: a swimming-pool romp with several of the other harem girls and also a supersexy run-in in the sauna of the "I'm so shy, but I need love" variety. Seriously--who doesn't love "I'm so shy" lesbianism? There's also the aforementioned Horse Scene in this portion of the film--that is a bit of a Hard Left. Before any more Animal Love can take place, Emanuelle wins her freedom and runs off with suave Italian Duke Alfredo (Gabrielle Tinti).
Second Story--at the Duke's palace in Venice, Emanuelle is seduced by the Duke and his wife (played by babetastic D'Amato regular Paola Senatore) after listening to their spiel regarding the sanctity of marriage. Emanuelle uncovers the Duke's sideline in the art forgery business and then photographs an orgy of wealthy nobles (as you do). Frustrated by the hypocrisy she's seen, Emanuelle leaves Venice to pursue her next story.
Third Story--Emanuelle has caught wind of the existence of a brothel catering to wealthy women during her tenure in Venice, so she heads out to the tropical island resort to see what's-what. Well--hardcore porn inserts is what! That, and a bunch of hilariously moustachioed gigolos wearing numbered collars who engage in various couplings with the clients of the resort. These dudes are seriously from the Burt Reynolds school of male sexiness--I was waiting for one of them to start Hunkercizing! Ahhhh the days of the Hunk--how we miss them. The movie takes another Hard Left when Emanuelle spies on one of the women who is having sex while watching some REALLY disturbing snuff footage. Whoa--NOT cool! In order to make her escape when she's caught taking pictures, Emanuelle seduces the madame. Now that's more like it, movie. Thanks!
Fourth Story--curious about the origin of the footage she saw at the brothel, Emanuel goes to DC to sleep with a politician (who happens to have an Eric Stanton S&M magazine cover framed in his bedroom) in order to uncover the source of the sick stuff. This part of the movie is seriously fucked up and actually kinda hard to watch, in spite of the politician's amazing bedroom decor. I think what makes the faux-footage so squicky is that it's so unexpected. There's a lot of boobs, peen and snatch in this movie, but to see a woman's mouth torn open or a breast hewn off with a knife makes one question whether certain feminist critiques of pornography might just be onto something. This kind of stark objectification and destruction of the female form is unsettling, and the look of the faux-footage enhances the feeling of verisimillitude. The scratchy quality--the sequence was shot on 35mm and then deliberately scratched and overexposed--looks just as one would expect a snuff film to appear. Per an interview with D'Amato that's included on the superb and complete Blue Underground print of this film, the actress who had her breast cut off sued the director since she claimed to be traumatized by viewing the footage. While this might've been a frivolous lawsuit, I can see where one might be jarred by watching oneself in this footage.
Cap it all off with a finale that ends the movie on a wacky note, complete with some wildly incorrect portrayals of Native Peoples, and you've doubtless got that longed-for "whack to the cerebellum with a rubber mallet" that all good trash cinema should provide.
One of the things that adds to the greatness of "EiA" is the wild fashion and interior design. There was a certain amount of attention--some of it admittedly pretty misguided--paid to making sure every scene looks chic. From Emanuelle's AWESOME studio that's chock full of psychedelic erotica (fruit that looks like asses, vintage porn, paintings of various sexy subjects--all oversized for maximum impact) to the UH-mazing Marlboro cigarette box table with a BAR inside of it, this movie is showing CLASS all the way. Emanuelle is always kitted out to the nines (when she's not nude, at any rate) in an array of flowy pre-disco pantsuits and couture gowns that would make Oscar de la Renta swoon with envy. On-site shots of New York City, Venice, and tropical island locales make the film feel more expensive than it is.
This review would be incomplete were I to make no mention of the AWESOME soundtrack with its sweeping violins and vocals. Composer Nico Fidenco, who scored several other Emanuelle entries, has outdone himself here, creating a dramatic sound landscape that's as overwrought and fabulous as the film it accompanies.
Here's an instrumental version of the credits theme with a montage of some of the fashions of "Emanuelle in America": Or the funkier version, if you prefer, without the groovy visuals:
My education in the Emmanuelle/Emanuelle movies is sorely lacking, but this is the one that everyone hears about, and from the sound of your excellent write-up, it lives up to its reputation, at LEAST. Talk about movies that could ONLY be made in the 70s!
The stills are totally mindblowing. I wonder if Marlboro still produces the home bar/coffee table furniture. And blonde hunk's helmet hair is nothing short of amazing. Also, I can't help wondering if that poster image comes from a scene in the flick, only with two other actors matted out.
I guess I could watch the film to find out, but really, now I'm kind of scared to. :)
So, do you think the director was assuming that somebody out there was shaking hands with Yul Brenner to the faux-snuff? Or do think it was included in a bid to add some gravitas re: exploitation and therefore cover one against obscenity charges? As the judge in the Vixen obscenity trial said, "Oh, here it is,: the social relevance."
I think I was traumatized by just READING about the amputation scene. Is there a "squeamish bi-grrl" cut of this movie with no mutilations or scary mustaches?
Vicar--this film does indeed live up to its reputation. I was expecting it to be a lot grislier throughout, but the start-and-stop nature of the truly freaky shit just made it all the weirder! As to the Marlboro table, I am already In Discussions to get one for the Apartment of Erotic Horror if I ever manage to see such a thing in three-dimensions :)
CRwM--judging by the interview with D'Amato attached to this film, he seemed to take a pretty commercial view of his work. "Give 'em what they want" seemed to be his attitude! I think he saw that sex & violence sold, and delivered the goods. He is also the mad genius behind the cannibal film entry in the Emanuelle series as well as the awesomely-named zombie smut known as "Porno Holocaust." I haven't seen either of these, and I'm not sure if I need to.
Awwww hell--of COURSE I need to! For science and the completion of my Dreck Education :)
Flightless--we could watch this one together and whenever you see me cringe, you'd know to cover your eyes. Barring that, might I recommend "Sister Emanuelle?" It has 100% more nuns and 1,000% less genital torture.
"a politician (who happens to have an Eric Stanton S&M magazine cover framed in his bedroom)"
Um, his name wouldn't be Bill? (just asking)
It may not be Georgia O'Keefe, but is that really a painting of a fig on the wall of Emanuelle's apartment? What an amazing show of...um...taste.
Yep, the wacky world of Joe D'Amato, lovely Laura Gemser and Black Emanuelle. I used to see these all the time on S-Cinemax,as well as on dupey casettes back in the good old, bad old days of the 80s. I was too young to catch these first run on the Deuce, but I can only imagine the reaction of the raincoat crowd when this one was screened. I'm guessing the projectionist was lucky to get out of the theater alive!
Ah, Joe D'Amato--his brand of sleaze is certainly not for everybody. This one really pushed the boundaries--even for me. I too am a fan of the music from these films, which I suppose is not for everyone's taste as well.
Personally, Emanuelle in Bangkok is probably my favorite of the series, for the ping pong ball scene alone.
The first dirty book I ever read was Emmanuelle Follows the Sun...
Ahem.
I'm also curious, yet scared. While I'm a fan of plain vanilla "tie me up and spank me" BDSM, realistic sexualized violence often crosses the squick line.
I just watched the title sequence. Thanks for posting the link. They should have called this one "Emanuelle gets Ripped Off in New York." First, she takes a cab from Kennedy, with the SOB cabdriver insisting on getting to Manhattan via the Bronx (how else could she have been traveling south on the FDR Drive north of the 59th Street Bridge?). Then, she gets accosted by some dude selling umbrella hats (those were so IN for like 2 weeks back in '76). After that, she stops for a really bad, overpriced cappuccino at the tourist trap clip joint in Rockefeller Center. And then she finishes it all up with a wonderful case of listeria from the uncooked hotdog salesman on 6th Avenue (no, it is not called "Avenue of the Americas" -- don't believe the signs; and yes, I know the guy personally). Also, nice touch from D'Amato having his auter credit superimposed over the blonde girl's nude crotch in the photo shoot scene.
BTW, I also love the Marlboro coffee table. Awesome product placement for a product that was banned from advertising 7 years before this was made.
Fred, I always pictured Slick Willy as being more of a "Cherry" fan than an enthusiast of the hard stuff. EXCELLENT analysis of Emanuelle's NYC adventures! +10 for the expose of the bad cab practices ;)
Rev. Phantom--I'm going to make an effort to get through the rest of this series! I've only just started sitting down to watch them over the past couple of years and--woo boy--they're pretty amazing so far. I'll have to check out "Bangkok" if only to solve the Ping Pong Mystery. I mean, I have a hunch as to what it might mean, but I'll have to watch. FOR SCIENCE.
Mme. Arkham--I hear you regarding the realistic sexual violence thing. I want to suggest a reissue of this film with the blinky red warning light a la "When the Screaming Stops." It can flash whenever beastiality, torture or egregious moustaches are about to appear on-screen!
I feel remiss for having never seen a single Emanuelle flick. I may have to try this one for pure shock value. Sounds heavier than the Ilsa movies, but after seeing Salò I may never cringe at a movie again. Having a fecal banquet in your movie tends to trump all cards.
I did take a stab at the original Emanuelle book. It was ridiculously tame up to the point I quit reading it. Maybe I'll have to try it again, but for a better sleaze autobiography try The Sex Life of Catherine M.
Darius, I just got round to the world of One-M-Emanuelle within the past eighteen months or so. I wouldn't say it's heavier than "She Wolf"--in fact, the various humorous and erotic episodes throughout do a lot to temper the mood--but the faux-snuff sequences elevate it in heaviness above "Oil Sheiks," to put things in an Ilsa context ;)
Every now and again, a filmmaker is brave enough to flaunt narrow cliches like "don't include graphic breast amputation in your fluff erotica" or "generally speaking, a scene of a woman jacking off a horse isn't the best segue into lesbian sex." When this happens, movies like "Emanuelle in America" get made. Notorious for its bestiality and faux snuff sequences, this film swings wildly from sensual erotica to disturbingly graphic grue in a way that makes the mind reel. The multiple personality disorder of this movie is incredibly disorienting and--I'll confess--more than a little entertaining. I genuinely did not know what director Joe D'Amato would show next--would I be aroused or completely disgusted? Or would I just be treated to a parade of say-something moustaches?
11 comments:
Sometimes all you can say is: "Um...WOW."
My education in the Emmanuelle/Emanuelle movies is sorely lacking, but this is the one that everyone hears about, and from the sound of your excellent write-up, it lives up to its reputation, at LEAST. Talk about movies that could ONLY be made in the 70s!
The stills are totally mindblowing. I wonder if Marlboro still produces the home bar/coffee table furniture. And blonde hunk's helmet hair is nothing short of amazing. Also, I can't help wondering if that poster image comes from a scene in the flick, only with two other actors matted out.
I guess I could watch the film to find out, but really, now I'm kind of scared to. :)
So, do you think the director was assuming that somebody out there was shaking hands with Yul Brenner to the faux-snuff? Or do think it was included in a bid to add some gravitas re: exploitation and therefore cover one against obscenity charges? As the judge in the Vixen obscenity trial said, "Oh, here it is,: the social relevance."
I think I was traumatized by just READING about the amputation scene. Is there a "squeamish bi-grrl" cut of this movie with no mutilations or scary mustaches?
Because that "black" Emanuelle, she is PURTY.
p8
Vicar--this film does indeed live up to its reputation. I was expecting it to be a lot grislier throughout, but the start-and-stop nature of the truly freaky shit just made it all the weirder! As to the Marlboro table, I am already In Discussions to get one for the Apartment of Erotic Horror if I ever manage to see such a thing in three-dimensions :)
CRwM--judging by the interview with D'Amato attached to this film, he seemed to take a pretty commercial view of his work. "Give 'em what they want" seemed to be his attitude! I think he saw that sex & violence sold, and delivered the goods. He is also the mad genius behind the cannibal film entry in the Emanuelle series as well as the awesomely-named zombie smut known as "Porno Holocaust." I haven't seen either of these, and I'm not sure if I need to.
Awwww hell--of COURSE I need to! For science and the completion of my Dreck Education :)
Flightless--we could watch this one together and whenever you see me cringe, you'd know to cover your eyes. Barring that, might I recommend "Sister Emanuelle?" It has 100% more nuns and 1,000% less genital torture.
"a politician (who happens to have an Eric Stanton S&M magazine cover framed in his bedroom)"
Um, his name wouldn't be Bill? (just asking)
It may not be Georgia O'Keefe, but is that really a painting of a fig on the wall of Emanuelle's apartment? What an amazing show of...um...taste.
Yep, the wacky world of Joe D'Amato, lovely Laura Gemser and Black Emanuelle. I used to see these all the time on S-Cinemax,as well as on dupey casettes back in the good old, bad old days of the 80s. I was too young to catch these first run on the Deuce, but I can only imagine the reaction of the raincoat crowd when this one was screened. I'm guessing the projectionist was lucky to get out of the theater alive!
Ah, Joe D'Amato--his brand of sleaze is certainly not for everybody. This one really pushed the boundaries--even for me. I too am a fan of the music from these films, which I suppose is not for everyone's taste as well.
Personally, Emanuelle in Bangkok is probably my favorite of the series, for the ping pong ball scene alone.
The first dirty book I ever read was Emmanuelle Follows the Sun...
Ahem.
I'm also curious, yet scared. While I'm a fan of plain vanilla "tie me up and spank me" BDSM, realistic sexualized violence often crosses the squick line.
I just watched the title sequence. Thanks for posting the link. They should have called this one "Emanuelle gets Ripped Off in New York." First, she takes a cab from Kennedy, with the SOB cabdriver insisting on getting to Manhattan via the Bronx (how else could she have been traveling south on the FDR Drive north of the 59th Street Bridge?). Then, she gets accosted by some dude selling umbrella hats (those were so IN for like 2 weeks back in '76). After that, she stops for a really bad, overpriced cappuccino at the tourist trap clip joint in Rockefeller Center. And then she finishes it all up with a wonderful case of listeria from the uncooked hotdog salesman on 6th Avenue (no, it is not called "Avenue of the Americas" -- don't believe the signs; and yes, I know the guy personally). Also, nice touch from D'Amato having his auter credit superimposed over the blonde girl's nude crotch in the photo shoot scene.
BTW, I also love the Marlboro coffee table. Awesome product placement for a product that was banned from advertising 7 years before this was made.
Fred, I always pictured Slick Willy as being more of a "Cherry" fan than an enthusiast of the hard stuff. EXCELLENT analysis of Emanuelle's NYC adventures! +10 for the expose of the bad cab practices ;)
Rev. Phantom--I'm going to make an effort to get through the rest of this series! I've only just started sitting down to watch them over the past couple of years and--woo boy--they're pretty amazing so far. I'll have to check out "Bangkok" if only to solve the Ping Pong Mystery. I mean, I have a hunch as to what it might mean, but I'll have to watch. FOR SCIENCE.
Mme. Arkham--I hear you regarding the realistic sexual violence thing. I want to suggest a reissue of this film with the blinky red warning light a la "When the Screaming Stops." It can flash whenever beastiality, torture or egregious moustaches are about to appear on-screen!
I feel remiss for having never seen a single Emanuelle flick. I may have to try this one for pure shock value. Sounds heavier than the Ilsa movies, but after seeing Salò I may never cringe at a movie again. Having a fecal banquet in your movie tends to trump all cards.
I did take a stab at the original Emanuelle book. It was ridiculously tame up to the point I quit reading it. Maybe I'll have to try it again, but for a better sleaze autobiography try The Sex Life of Catherine M.
Darius, I just got round to the world of One-M-Emanuelle within the past eighteen months or so. I wouldn't say it's heavier than "She Wolf"--in fact, the various humorous and erotic episodes throughout do a lot to temper the mood--but the faux-snuff sequences elevate it in heaviness above "Oil Sheiks," to put things in an Ilsa context ;)
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