THE LICKERISH QUARTET

(A.k.a. EROTIC QUARTET; HIDE AND SEEK; AMOR A QUATRO PUNTAS)

"… all this present reality of yours – is fated to seem a mere illusion to you tomorrow …" This quote originates from "Six Characters in Search of an Author", and opens up Radley Metzger’s thought-provoking and bitingly observational THE LICKERISH QUARTET.

A young couple make love in grainy black-and-white. As the camera pulls back, the scene is revealed to be playing on a projection screen for the benefit of an aristocratic couple (Frank Wolff and Erika Remberg) and their adult son (Paolo Turco).

The family watch impassively, discussing the merits of the film casually as another onscreen couple gets involved and the sex becomes more adventurous. The father seems to be impressed with what he’s seeing. But the son expresses boredom and insists on going out for the evening.

When the mother chooses to go with him, the father also follows. They venture to a nearby travelling carnival and indulge in watching a stunt show there. The star of that show is a daring motorcyclist who thrills their audience with a "wall of death" act. When the cyclist later removes their mask, she reveals herself (Silvana Venturelli) to be a dead ringer for the gorgeous blonde the family had earlier seen making out on their projection screen. Could this brunette stuntwoman really have an alternate life in adult filmmaking?

The father hatches an idea: to invite the woman back to the family castle and show her the film. Having her in attendance for a screening would be "like one of those … film festivals", he suggests. Approaching the woman after the show, he invites her back to a "party". She quickly takes him up on the offer.

Cut to their chateau. After a little pussyfooting around the subject and a needless spot of magical theatricality from the distracted son, the family get round to showing the woman the film.

Following a little reticence from their female guest, each family member experiences an intimate moment with her – but is later left questioning whether what happened was reality or fantasy. As things get weirder, perhaps the most disconcerting element is how this otherwise appealing lady – by this point blonde again, as per her 8mm alter-ego/doppelganger – keeps asking the family members "who’s got the gun?" …

European actors speaking English dialogue has a tendency to result in stilted pacing during talky scenes, and that is the case on occasion here. The performances themselves are convincing and agreeable – everyone is likeable in their own way – but conversational set-pieces do suffer as a result of the aforementioned.

It’s a good job, then, that the film scores so highly in virtually every other respect. Locations, particularly the luscious castle grounds, are gorgeous. Hans Jura’s cinematography expertly captures it from all the best angles and imbues it with stylised colours in a successful bid to turn the setting into the film’s fourth character. Costume and make-up design are equally beautiful, further contributing towards an end result that will thrill fans of pop-art aesthetics across numerous viewings.

The interior décor of the castle is great too (check out the scene where Wolff and Venturelli get friendly on a flooring that consists of suggestive dictionary entries – wow), as is Stelvio Cipriani’s laconic but attention-grabbing score.

Metzger is firing on all cylinders stylistically here, ensuring each and every sequence of the film is filled with creative, colourful and striking imagery. Married with this, Michael DeForrest’s screenplay proffers an intellectually gratifying alternative to the usual fluff that passed as erotica in 1970. Social mores, class divides and familial tensions all come into play, as does a rather post-modern analysis of film’s penchant for creating, distorting, preserving and influencing memories. The use of fast-forward/rewind gimmickry, coupled with forays into monochrome with characters from QUARTET’s ‘reality’ adopting the personas of old filmic stereotypes etc, won’t make much sense in writing. But to see the film, its blending of erotic drama, surrealism and the blurring of reality and fantasy works quite seamlessly.

The fact that THE LICKERISH QUARTET achieves all of this and more whilst retaining a healthy dose of eroticism at its core is testament to Metzger’s talent for creating equal amounts of art and entertainment out of sex while never, ever conceding to dumbing down his thematic content.

French-era Luis Bunuel seems like an obvious comparison to make here. But I’m going to go with that anyway, because it works. And that’s a big compliment.

Arrow have released THE LICKERISH QUARTET in the UK as a 2-disc, dual format blu-ray and DVD combo pack. The region B blu-ray was made available for us to review.

It presents the film uncut in a very nice 1080p HD transfer which respects the film’s original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The presentation is clean but very film-like, looking very healthy for its age and benefiting from incredible clarity. Colours are warm and natural; images are crisp but without the aid of unsightly edge-enhancement. Fine grain is evident throughout, in what is a top notch transfer.

English LPCM 2.0 audio is also very impressive throughout. Optional English subtitles for the Hard-of-Hearing are well-written and easy to read.

The disc opens to an animated main menu page. This contains pop-up menus, including a scene-selection menu which allows access to the main feature via 12 chapters.

A splendid array of bonus features kick off with an audio commentary track from Metzger, in conversation with film historian Michael Bowen. It’s a predictably solid affair, with the director on fine form in terms of memory and the ability to effortlessly engage with his listeners. Bowen is a good moderator, prompting where necessary with pertinent pointers.

Rick Ulfik narrates us through an 11-minute Making Of featurette entitled "Mind Games". We learn that this was the actual working title for the film, and get to see some fascinating behind-the-scenes footage. Most interestingly, this includes clips of the actors speaking live on camera (they later dubbed their own voices/had actors come in to dub them, in a move that was not uncommon of small films in 1970).

‘Cool Version Love Scenes’ are just that: 32 minutes’ worth of archival footage presenting alternate, less explicit scenes of love-making that were shot in case the originals were considered too hot. These are presented in washed-out, window-boxed VHS quality – but they’re very interesting regardless.

The 13-minute featurette "Giving Voice to the Quartet" expands on the dubbing techniques touched upon above. Introductory text explains that "sound was recorded on location for dubbing reference only. No attempt was made to mask the sound of the camera or other incidental noises". More beguiling before/after comparisons follow.

We also get trailers for THE LICKERISH QUARTET, SCORE and CAMILLE 2000.

NB All of the above extras also feature on Cult Epics’ region-free blu-ray release.

Although not made available for review purposes, Arrow’s impressive set also comes with double-sided cover artwork and a booklet with liner notes by Cinema Sewer’s Robin Bougie. Plus, don’t forget, a DVD containing the same content as the blu-ray …

THE LICKERISH QUARTET is arty, fun, ambitious and sexy. It feels dated, but in a manner that doesn’t compromise its appeal today. It’s definitely worth checking out, and Arrow’s uncut release is a fine way to introduce yourself to its visually striking, head-scratching charms.

Review by Stuart Willis