Posts Tagged With: Sado-Masochism

The Joy Of Pinky Violence… ORGIES OF EDO Reviewed.

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BD. Arrow. Region B. 18.

By the late 1960s the Japanese were in the throes of a collective love affair with their TV sets and it was clearly going to take more than another cycle of yakuza epics to tempt them back into movie theatres. The ruthlessly commercial Toei Studio was ready for a change and so was director Teruo Ishii (who had directed no less than ten episodes of the Abashiri Prison series in two years!) So was born the “pinky violence” / “abnormal love” series, inaugurated with Ishii’s  The Joy Of Torture / Shogun’s Joy Of Torture in 1968. Prohibited from depicting explicit sex or even full frontal female nudity, these films doubled… nay, tripled down on BDSM imagery, to increasingly delirious effect.

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The überprolific Ishii’s fourth entry in the series, Orgies Of Edo (1969), like its predecessors, examines the Edo (Tokugawa) era of Japanese history (1603-1868), continuing to explore the proposition that a world of psychosexual malaise underlay that ostensibly serene and prosperous period. It’s not entirely inconceivable that criticisms of contemporary Japanese society were being implied and inferred… whatever, the film’s gleeful “News Of The Screws” style moralistic condemnation of “abnormal love” enabled its makers to have their cake and eat it, a framing device involving the idealistic doctor Gentatsu (Teruo Yoshida), who encounters the casualties of assorted carnal excesses, enhancing its credentials as some kind of cautionary “sexual hygiene” film.

The first segment of this infernal triptych involves Oito (Masumi Tachibana), a naive girl who is lured into a life of prostitution by smarmy conman Hanji (Toyozō Yamamoto). Her Hogarthian harlot’s progress terminates when, having become pregnant, she is beaten by a Madame in an attempt to induce a miscarriage. Her dying plea is that Hanji and her callous sister (with whom he was conducting an affair behind her back) be looked after. Gentatsu wishes he could have saved her life by removing the dead foetus via the Western method of Caesarian section … hold on there doc, you’ll get your chance.

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The second episode introduces us to Ochise (Mitsuko Aoi), a respectable merchant’s daughter who rides her devoted servant Chôkichi (Akira Ishihama) around like a horse and enlists his aid in recruiting deformed and disfigured men for her to enjoy rough sex with. Dwarves… the disabled… none of this is particularly PC but when Ochies’s Jonesing for “repulsive” men drives her into the arms of a black guy… well, they don’t make ’em like this any more and it’s probably just as well. When Dr G hypnotises Ochie, the root of all this perving is revealed… as a young woman she was kidnapped and abused by a man with burn marks on his face. Before she can derive any benefit from this insight, Chôkichi scars his own face in the hope of bedding his mistress but while attempting to monopolise her affections by scarring her, too, he inadvertently administers a fatal wound to her throat. Ochie forgives him as she dies… don’t you just love a happy ending?

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Finally, a depraved lord (Asao Koike) who thinks nothing of dragging women behind his horse and setting charging bulls on them draws the line when he finds out that one of his concubines has been involved in a sexual liaison with her dog! He expresses his disapproval of this by having her painted gold so that she’ll expire, Shirley Eaton style, but before this can be completed she reveals to him that his favourite mistress Omitsu (Miki Obana), whose debauched enthusiasm for rope bondage and cutting matches his own and who’s pregnant with his child, is actually his own daughter. As his Lordship succumbs to madness and the place burns down, House Of Usher style, Doctor Gentatsu gets to do his C-section (a scene that’s both risible and rather icky) and bears the child away, advising it as they (literally) head off into the sunset: “You must live, despite your burden. Resist madness and put all your strength into this precious life”.

Despite its hypocritical moralistic veneer, Orgies of Edo is a truly Sadean film, extolling the joys of individual sexual satisfaction, whatever its consequences, over a life of stifling social conformity. Obviously a pointer towards such increasingly delirious and surreal Ishii offerings as Horrors Of Malformed Men (1969) and Blind Woman’s Curse (1970) it’s also a down-market predecessor of e.g. Oshima’s Ai No Corrida (1976).

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Patrick Macias contributes a video appreciation, as well as liner notes (I haven’t yet seen the booklet accompanying this release) and you also get an amazing trailer that never knowingly understates this film’s salacious selling points: “Surpassing the unique The Joy Of Torture… uproarious scenes of sado-masochism… in the chaos of this world, madness and derangement… a tale of cruelty and perversion… a must see for all adults… a perfect study in debauchery in this highly controversial piece of work… once seen, never forgotten… women’s bodies in sexual ecstasy… sweet perversion… one hour and fifty minutes of trying not to look at theses numerous ancient forms of torture… new face of Playboy 1968 – Masumi Tachibana… with her 40 inch bust – Reiko Misaka… plus over 200 nude stars… only Toei could make this unusual yet stimulating film… more than 30 minutes is life-threatening… the agonising torture of being lacquered in gold… a magnificent spectacle!”

Hold the fucking phone… “one hour and fifty minutes of trying not to look”? The version I just watched clocked in at barely more than an hour-and-a-half. Is there more of this in somebody’s vault somewhere? Saints preserve us!

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Gold…

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… Minger.

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Songs In The Key Of G-Spot… Lucio Fulci’s THE DEVIL’S HONEY Reviewed

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BD. Regions A/B/C. Severin. Unrated.

I remember reading a great review of this film in an obscure Dutch fanzine. I was hooked as soon as I read the opening lines: “Dr Wendell Simpson (Brett Halsey) has a bad marriage. He goes often to the whores”. Indeed he often does and when he gets there, it’s in search of very niche erotic gratification, i.e. watching the working girls paint the crotch of their pantyhose with nail varnish. You might have thought they’d regard this as easy money but one complains that: “It’s worse than fucking a monster… you’re a freak!” Back home, Wendell’s wife (the luscious Corinne Clery) is writhing around in heat, seeking a good seeing-to but he can’t seem to raise any interest, or indeed anything else, in response to this spectacle. Fucking weirdo…

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The sexual arrangement between Johnny (Stefano Madia) and Jessica (Blanca Marsillach) seems scarcely more conventional. He’s a saxophone playing rock superstar (first time for everything, I guess) who only seems capable of playing one phrase (which is distinctly reminiscent of the Phil Lynott / Gary Moore chewn Parisienne Walkways) and when he can’t even get that right, takes time out from an unproductive recording session to blow his horn up Jessica’s tuppence (such a crowd pleasing moment that the original U.S. video release, as Dangerous Obsession, bumped it forward to the film’s opening minutes, as demonstrated on one of the many bonus materials here). “Don’t you ever think of anything else?” she chides him. “Is there anything else?” he responds. Later Johnny persuades Jessica to give him a hand-job while she rides pillion on his speeding motor-bike…. cor baby, that’s really free!

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It’s a pity The Jeremy Kyle show wasn’t airing in 1986… Graham The Genius would have had his work cut out with these guys! In the absence of that, what does bring all the sex cases together is the arrival of Johnny on Wendell’s operating table, in critical condition after a motorbike crash. Christ only knows what he’d been up to on that speeding bike this time… felching a chicken while inserting crack rocks up his own arse? Probably best not to think about it…

Anyway, Dr Simpson is so stressed out, flashing back to his wife’s demand for a divorce, that he totally screws up the operation and Johnny shuffles off his mortal coil… no more  speed limit-defying wanks for you, mate! Jessica, devastated, sits around at home cuddling Johnny’s pullover and watching videos of herself being shagged by him. Then she resolves to act. She harasses Dr. Simpson with phone calls, then kidnaps him at gunpoint and chains him up in her and Johnny’s beach-house.

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Now, call me old-fashioned, but I’d be rather more inclined to attribute the demise of  this clown to his own tiresome antics than to the surgeon who attempted to save him. Nevertheless, Jessica spends the next couple of days beating, kicking, nearly drowning and feeding dog food to the doc, not to mention spattering him with hot candle wax. My name is Jessica…”  she tells him: ” … but you can call me fear!” “You’re an amazing girl!” he gasps.

When not abusing poor old Wendell (who, one strongly suspects, is having the time of his life), Jessica flashes back to her affair with Johnny, including a memorable scene in which he sodomises her on a staircase. Just in case anyone in the audience isn’t sure what’s going on, Fulci intercuts the action with shots of Jessica’s dog (whom I’d love to believe is some kind of relative of Dicky from The Beyond) jumping against a back door… subtle symbolism or what? Gradually her flashbacks reveal that life with Johnny wasn’t so great after all – he smashed her favourite doll, he liked her vagina to double as a holster for his pistol, and – best of all – at one point we see Jessica necking with him in a cinema, only to recoil in horror as she realizes that bitchy sound engineer Nick (Bernard Seray) is simultaneously playing some hot licks on Johnny’s horn, mugging furiously while doing so.

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When Wendell repairs her doll, Jessica unties him and they consummate the mutual passion that has been building up between them. Incredibly, as a post-script to their love-making, the doc declaims the following lines…

“When you’ve spent your life like a fortune you believed would never end / a second chance will come to you, like a long-lost friend / A great joy will fill you and flush you hot / no more will you ever be cool / for she is the Devil’s honey-pot / and you will drown in her… you fool!”

If only room could have been found, among all the other mildly kinky goings-on here, for Halsey to undergo a golden shower… anyone who can deliver poetry like that with a straight face really deserves to have it pissed on!

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Fulci, visibly ravaged by his recent run in with hepatitis, makes his customary cameo as a street-trader who sells Jessica and Johnny two “mystical bracelets”, which will allegedly guarantee them happiness until discarded. Would you buy a charm bracelet from the man above… or a reheated, overheated script? The Devil’s Honey bears an uncanny resemblance to Giuseppe Patroni Griffi’s The Trap, directed the previous year from a Fulci screenplay and starring (alongside Tony Musante and Laura Antonelli) Blanca Marsillach and her kid sister Cristina (shortly to star in Argento’s Opera).

Blanca seems to have wound up just about everybody on the set of The Devil’s Honey, as is amply testified to in the generous supplementary materials on this handsome Severin BD presentation. “I don’t want to talk badly about a fellow performer…” offers the admirable Halsey: “… my problem was that she had no discipline and no talent”. He loved being directed by Fulci, though (“If you dig him up, I’d work for him again!”) and also directing him, as he claims to have done during Fulci’s protracted cameo role in 1990’s Demonia, a film about which Halsey has some hair-raising anecdotes. He also regrets the misunderstanding about the same year’s Nightmare Concert / A Cat In The Brain which curtailed their professional and personal relationship.

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Corinne Clery remembers Fulci as “kind”, then again by her account she’s always prided herself on not being “a prima donna”… it was to exactly that kind of actress that Fulci famously gave shortest shrift. Producer Vincenzo Salviani poo-poos any suggestion that Fulci was “difficult” to work with but admits: “He wasn’t the lion he once was”. In an audio essay Troy Howarth talks up Fulci’s “knack” for the erotic and Stephen Thrower, who’s always got something interesting to say about this director, speculates that Fulci’s career could have been salvaged at this point by jumping the glossy soft core bandwagon that was currently gaining momentum. Instead, he remained pigeon holed in an increasingly ghetto-ised Horror milieu, with geometrically diminishing returns. No more would he ever be cool…

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