Girl Meets Girl Collection

Vampire Ecstasy, Bibi, & Butterfly

Cinematic expressions of a cultural sexual awakening, the writhing skin and ecstatic moans on the movie screens of the 1970's mirrored the sexual liberation taking place across the free world. Unapologetic expressions of animal lust and skin-slapping passion, soft and hard-core pornography in the era of smiley faces and spread legs embodied an approach to sexy film both decadent and innocent in its throes of lust. A new age, a time for experimentation in the bedroom (and bathroom, living room, park, etc.), the same sense of personal freedom and erotic exploration that provoked Ma and Pa Kettle to spice up their bedroom flowed over into the art of motion pictures, testing never-before crossed borders of commonly held social standards.

Thumbing its nose to conventions, the adult film industry of this pre-Aids society enjoyed their new found freedom and the hesitant permissiveness of the mainstream media to fondle, lick, suck, knead, jerk, and pump their sweaty, salty way to neurotic nipple nirvana.

There is undeniably something as socially profound about these films as there is erotic. Daring contexts of social criticism and wit, sometimes dark and foreboding, other times liberating and whimsical, resonate beyond the gasping, panting voices, cheesy soundtracks, and supple limbs. Women and men were naked up on the screen, in public! For all the audience to see! And both actors and directors with visions of semon-cinema running in their heads (little and large) were quick to take advantage of this erotic war of aggression.

Attacking the puritanical hypocrisy and self-deceit of the Western world's fear and condemnation of sex by showing it in all its pleasure, pain, and transformative power, the peep-show shared center stage with the art house curiosity. In this meeting of limbs, tongues, and aesthetic approaches to the most natural activity in a world of lustful animals who spend a majority of their time trying to disguise the fact, some directors stood out as not simply poets of porn but artists as well.

Underground artist's of the primal, very human instinct to seek pleasure, self discovery, and communion in the flesh and minds of others, a few directors sought to lend thematic context with the large penises and swaying breast, preferring to aim the lens at actors performing a story amidst all the orgies. Joe Sarno was one of these whose distinctive stylish flourishes and thematic obsessions with both the darker aspects of sexual freedom and its power to provoke transformations of mind and emotion lent his movies further power and scope, adding narrative to eye candy.

With gritty, grainy, murkily shots, low if any budgets, and production schedules normally no longer than a few days, the house-next-door feeling of these sex pictures (most of the time precisely that), the cheap and sordid atmosphere, and the real looking and acting women who bare their souls and bodies to the willing voyeur lend an authenticity and, dare I say it, a respect to many of these adult films. For that's what they were, then - movies with casts and some ideal of production value and story, the total opposite of today's silicone enhanced, limp-dick anti-stories that feature little more than body parts slapping against one another as women pretend to experience orgasm. The women in these pictures are real in a "lives down the street" sort of way that makes them more accessible and attractive, helping to strengthen the illusion that the movie unrolling is a reality, albeit second hand.

During this permissive era (though not too permissive, as the killjoy self appointed moralists were quick to blame societal ills on every breast and penis they could see), hardcore films such as Deep Throat and The Devil in Miss Jones was helping make the adult film a status of social change - the hip thing for those with the know to indulge in - pushing back the tide of censorship in a society that has always preferred images of violence and death in its media than the expression of physical love and animal lust, that Europe, seas away, was also investing more earnestly into the fun, albeit mostly in the more artistic softcore films. In this context is placed Joseph W. Sarno, who had already rode a wave of lusty infamy through undressing women's bodies and inhibitions in the sixties. Primarily known today as the man behind the influential Inga, a search for the sexy-self proving that it was possible and profitable to combine serious issues of the psyche with sexual titillation, this hit soon saw Sarno teamed up with Chris Nebe, a German distributor who in 1972 invited Sarno to work with him in producing and shooting three films in the next two years. All shot in English, these films sold reasonably well. More importantly, they established a precedent of interweaving the money-shot sex 'em mentality of adult cinema with the attention to character and thematic sub-text of more mainstream, linear movies.

Appearing here in the best, most pristine treatment I imagine they have ever received, just the fact that such films have been released on DVD so respectfully is a wonder! A new package from the poetic perverts at EI's Retro-Seduction branch, this collection is hot and demented in equal terms. It also happens to be a collector's treasure of rare vintage erotica, combing unapologetic smut with surprisingly good performances and all the down-and-dirty naughtiness that, let's fact it, we really want from such product. Perhaps product is the wrong term, as Sarno offers more of a personal vision in each of these three films rather than a mass produced, made-to-order product. The direction and stories, the sexually charged atmosphere and settings that almost reflect the debauchery, both liberating and deviant, of people exposing their naked bodies and naked desires to one another are clearly self expressions of a mature aesthetic sense as much as they are tit-and-ass movies.

Treating Sarno's erotic masterworks with the class and devotion that companies like Criterion usually reserve for Orson Welles, EI follows up their slew of rescued Sarno titles with perhaps his three most visually provocative and internally sound works. Sarno, Nebe, and Swedish boy-toy Marie Forsa (whose knock dead body and erotically charged persona lent much such erotic appeal of these features) are given their due in a DVD package that is as informative on setting the context for the films as the movies themselves are intense, creative, and arousing.

The first disc, the wonderfully atmospheric, retrospective ode to perversion and pain called Vampire Ecstasy (once called Veil of Blood), is as darkly beautiful in its writing and setting as it is disturbing in its intermingling of sex and death. Marie in her acting debut is both victim and victimizer in her erotically charged expression, a mingling of innocence wanting to be warped and attraction to the very thing that warps her. Her obvious love of sex doesn't hurt either. While not as involving or shocking as Ecstasy, the second film, Bibi, a romantic comedy of forced intrigue, still manages to entertain with thoughtful direction and the aforementioned Forsa, spreading and bending with an abandon that raises much more than one's attention. The final title, the simplistic if scandalous Butterflies, while the hardest in terms of sexual bluntness, is perhaps the crudest in term of plot.

Of course the stand-out feature is VAMPIRE ECSTASY, the first ménage of Sarno, Nebe and Forsa, whose ode to perversion and gothic-like imagery is equal parts decadence and intimate betrayal. Looking more like something directed by Jean Rollins than the rest of Sarno's uneven if inspired output, this blood and beaver fest is an early and unjustly neglected minor masterwork of erotic horror, indulging in excess and fetish, mirroring the ambience and irrational surrealistic "logic" of a Jean Rollins walking nightmare. With fragments of violence and sexuality overlapping like blood over skin, this is European horror and flesh-show at its most obscure and image-rich best, the interwoven images of voluptuous sex thrust against scenes of decay, death, and a sense of danger and death that seems almost natural in this macabre construct. Oh, yes, there are also the expected (and quite welcome) buxom lovelies, femme fatales lurking when not sucking, er, 'blood' from their hapless visitors. The story, a poem of the perverse, features a threesome of young women stopping at a moodily depicted German castle. Why isn't as important in this visually stunning film so much as the resulting imagery, which Sarno focuses on a coven of witches and their dominating leader, whose naughty nocturnal activities sing to something deep within Helga's soul as she struggles between the desire to join them or flee back into the banal arms of her old life. Plotting to use Monika (Butz) as the surrogate through which to resurrect the Countess Varga (whose second coming announces an apocalyptic new world), Julia (an expert in such matters?!) arrives to battle the vampire's influence, dragging behind her an ineffectual brother. Released first by the same studio under the name The Devil's Playthings, said edition lacked around 15 minutes of nudity, gyrating, and violence.

Bibi (aka Girl Meets Girl), again starring Forsa, deviates from the horror established in the first feature and focuses instead on a rather lame adventure premise as Bibi, a traveling student, arrives at her wealthy and accomplished aunt's home. Ignorant and seething with unrealized lust beneath the enforced conventions of her culture and upbringing, her body yearns for the burning caress of a man even as her soul demands liberation. Spending much time with her Aunt's female associates, she falls prey (very easily, I might add) to the siren song of lust as the innocent becomes the seducer. On a descent of sexual and emotional discovery, Bibi grows more calculating and daring, raunchier and less patient in her desires, with each new conquest. We get to set back and enjoy the voluptuous results, the endless cyclone of menages-a-trois, to orgasmic foursomes, and passionate devotions to the Goddess Sapho making us wish we were participants in Bibi's raging search for fulfillment.

Butterflies, the third of the three discs, features young, restless, and aroused Denise (Marie Forsa) who, unwilling to live on her dull families even duller farm, slapping skin with her hick boyfriend, heads out to the city to realize her dream of hitting it big as a model and amorous adventures. Encountering Frank (Harry Reems), a deceitful but successful night club owner, she allows herself to be taken (in more way than one). Experiencing now the lustful desires that she was once denied, Denise soon realizes that Frank has a minor harem of nymphets who will do anything he wants, anywhere, anyhow, and with anybody! Seeking emotional comfort and physical release in the arms (and other body parts) of Frank's partner (Nadia Henkowa), she experiences an entire new and heated world of yawning lust and power politics.

While shot in 35mm, the DVDs of all three films are presented for viewing in fullscreen with minimal print damage and generally sharp, clear transfers. Serviceable mono sound allows the soundtrack and music to be enjoyed quite well. While the older, R-rated version of Vampire Ecstasy (The Devil's Playthings, not to be confused with the William Hellfire low budget slice of bloody schlock) actually unexplainably offers a better looking image with bolder lines, detail, and color, the juicier uncut version betrays itself with grainer imagery and dark blemishes which dilute both the visual and contextual arousal and shock that these scenes are supposed to transmit. Still, for movies this obscure, with such bad reputations in a cinema nation spoiled and spoiling from the effects of too many popcorn munching, money ripping spectacles to name, the quality of the titles as they stand are better than anyone ever dreamed they would be.

The extras, including Nebe in penetrating interviews and commentaries which appear on all three discs, are exciting and educated, infectious in their enthusiasm as his insights and memories lend great color and context to the writing madness on the screen. Short splices of interviews with director Sarno are also enjoyable to pursue, as is the complete library of EI Sarno trailers and other titles from the Seduction label, and, as another sensual treat, a disc of music from all three features. Lastly, a full color booklet featuring Never-Before-Seen Stills and Liner Notes by Michael Bowen makes this collection a multi-media crash course on stylish and thoughtful erotica as pleasing to learn about as it is to watch.

Review by William P. Simmons