PRIVATE COLLECTIONS

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 fem fatal theme that only looses 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 charged 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.

Review by William P. Simmons