IN THE SIGN OF THE TAURUS

(A.k.a. I TYRENS TEGN; LES LECONS DE CAROLLA; FATELO CON ME ... BIONDE DOLCI DANESI; SPECIALITES DANOISES)

A soft female narration opens proceedings, introducing us to a small community in rural Denmark. This town, we're told, had enjoyed years of tax-free wealth, thanks to the generosity of Count von Lieberhaus, who lived in a castle on the hill ("don't they all?" the narrator quips).

We're introduced first to flashback footage of the Count enjoying his favourite pastime - spying on the town's teenaged girls as they sunbathe in various states of undress in the park. But we're told their mothers guarded the girls fiercely against the Count's lusty ways.

Meanwhile, the introductions extend to the town's menfolk: kindly doctor Andreas (Ole Soltoft); barber-cum-chemist Pillesen (William Kisum); Mayor Andersen (Preben Mahrt); closet drunk Pastor Fydensoej (Karl Stegger); the Pastor's geeky son Hector (Bent Warburg) - who's in a relationship with the Mayor's voluptuous daughter, Dyveke (Susanne Breuning).

In the middle of this quiet, seemingly innocent commune is Carola (Lone Helmer) - a lady of ill repute, whose afternoons are spent servicing the needs of men like the suave Albert (Otto Brandenburg).

When the Count gets over-excited spying on the teenaged daughters through his binoculars and dies (it could also have something to do with his black female chauffeur fellating him at the time, mind), the town's male peers are called together to organise the burial.

After chastising Hector and Dyveke for not living up to his own puritanical standards, Mayor Andersen heeds to Andreas' call and meets the doctor to discuss the Count's funeral arrangements. Meanwhile, the town's older female fraternity begin to worry about their future financial security - despite the Count being "an old pig", he did pay their taxes, after all.

When the Mayor begins to read out the Count's will, it transpires that after sorting out lifetime allowances for his two sexy aides, he does have plans to bequeath the bulk of his vast fortune on one lucky member of the community: the first child born out of wedlock and in the sign of Taurus. The only other condition is that the child must remain in the town for life.

Until a child is born out of wedlock in the sign of Taurus, the Count's taxes payments are to be withheld. Furthermore, if the task is not achieved, his fortune will go to the Association for the Protection of Homeless Kittens in Copenhagen ...

"We have to ensure that a child is born in the sign of Taurus right away!" Andreas deduces wisely. But how can they make this so? Why, through the widespread act of promiscuous sex, of course.

But how can this morally uptight community - where a child has not been born out of wedlock for a staggering thirty four years - ever teach it's young women to make themselves alluring to the local men? Well, that's where having a local hussy like Carola comes in useful ...

Carola indeed does welcome the young women into her house of sin and the film steadily collapses into a series of enjoyably silly sexcapades. Even the Mayor accepts that his precious Dyveke must get in on the action - good man! All of which culminates in an unexpectedly heartwarming finale.

While the humour is pure schoolboy daftness (innuendos based on the use of the word "stiff"; Carry On-style signal-sounds when the camera zooms in on a skimpily covered female bottom, etc), the film has an agreeable tone that is difficult not to smile through.

Performances throughout are incredibly amiable, with Soltoft coming across as childlike and enthusiastic as ever. Sigrid Horne-Rasmussen shines as the Mayor's volatile, conniving wife while Helmer provides the film with a much-needed heart.

If it's simple titillation you're hankering for, there's plenty of that on offer too. Hardcore moments are offered in the form of fellatio, penetration and masturbation, while the Count's two servants have fun in a highly charged lesbian romp shortly after his burial - presumably the pair of them are none too concerned with grabbing his fortune, given their already-confirmed allowances?!

What this film exhibits perhaps more than any other of the films in this series, is style. There are some truly imaginative sequences involving body paint, costume design and music - virtual dance set-pieces, boasting almost psychedelic imagery to startling effect. The fact that it doesn't make sense within the confines of the rest of the film is of little consequence: it looks great, and adds to the undeniable quirkiness. The period placing of the film too, gives the film a quaint feel not too dissimilar to that of an Agatha Christie potboiler.

The uncut film here receives a pleasingly clean, clear anamorphic 1.78:1 presentation. Grain is minimal while blacks, colours and overall detail are given a solid treatment by this above average transfer. Although images are generally a tad soft, this is still better than you could realistically expect a Danish obscurity from nigh-on four decades ago to look. A sterling, qualm-free effort.

Audio is provided in the original Danish 2.0 soundtrack and is clear and consistent throughout. No hiss evident, while an even balance of channels is healthily maintained.

As with all of Smirk's releases so far, optional English subtitles are well-written and easy to read.

A colourful animated main menu set to the strain of a bouncy classical, almost cartoonish score greets us into the disc. Predictably - though not disagreeably - it focuses on the film's more explicit moments.

From there there's a two-page animated scene-selection menu allowing access to the main feature via 12 chapters.

The only extra on this disc is a slideshow consisting of 31 stills that take delight in highlighting the female flesh present in the film. This slickly edited affair lasts just over two-and-a-half minutes.

IN THE SIGN OF THE TAURUS is impossible not to enjoy. Its hardcore moments are genuinely erotic, while the humour has an innocent bawdiness to it that is as charming as it is ever so slightly cringe inducing.

A fine addition to the series, and another satisfying DVD rendition from the good folk at Smirk.

Review by Stuart Willis