Showing posts with label dagmar lassander. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dagmar lassander. Show all posts

Sunday, February 26, 2012

So Young, So Lovely, So Vicious (1975)

Original title: Peccati di gioventu

When rich girl Angela (Gloria Guida) returns from college, her father (Silvano Tranquilli) uses the opportunity to finally tell her that he has a new girlfriend, Irene (Dagmar Lassander). Angela is less than happy with that, because she doesn't "want a stranger to interfere with my life" and so sets in motion a plan to get rid off her rival for Daddy's heart. I'm sure all Freudians in the audience approve. Angela sics her no-good lover Sandro (Fred Robsahm), who has a much older and richer girlfriend of his own to perform tricks for for money and so really shouldn't have the time for games like these, on Irene.

Somehow (I suspect it may have to do with taste) Irene manages to resist all of Sandro's advances. Confused, Angela investigates Irene's past. Angela finds out that Irene was once tangled up in (and I quote) "an unnatural love affair" with one of her female teachers that ended with the teacher's suicide and convinced Irene that taking on a cold and aloof personality and pretending she's interested in men would be the only way for her to get through life. Angela's revised plan is clear. She is going to seduce Irene herself, convince Sandro to make incriminating photos and use these photos to make Irene go away.

Angela's plan of first bringing Irene back to emotional honesty again and then destroying her works out better than the girl expects. Only too late does the young woman realize what she's doing to Irene.

If Silvio Amadio's (probably best known to cult movie friends for the giallo Amuck) So Young, So Lovely, So Vicious is mentioned at all, it is usually called a giallo (or even a comedy, which it is even less), but I disagree with that choice of genre, for I recognize an exploitation melodrama when I see one.

As these things go, So Young surely is one of the better examples of that sub-genre. There's a copious amount of attractive people (and Fred Robsahm, but what does male hetero me know about male attractiveness?) frequently walking around in the nude, a lot of only teased sex, the usual hints at somewhat kinky character motivations, and the sort of sexual complications exploitation filmmakers love to pretend the rich and beautiful go through on a regular basis, even though we all know they're in truth spending their time drinking the blood of the innocent, and implanting alien reptiles in the heads of presidents. Or something of that sort.

The sexual content of So Young is not quite as sleazy as in other Italian movies I could mention, for director Amadio seems honestly interested in his characters, or rather in Irene and Angela, and so spends as much time on turning them into somewhat complex characters as he does on letting them strut their stuff (though he of course prefers to do both things at once). As is traditional in melodramas the male characters don't matter as much as the female ones and therefore get a more superficial characterisation, but that's not a problem.

While it's generally normal for Italian exploitation films to show off the more or less decadent exploits of their characters with a cynical sneer and without showing much compassion, making melodramas of this type often unpleasantly conservative in their philosophical outlook, So Young does things a little differently in that its sympathies clearly lie with Irene. Even though the ending is of the standard type where the older Lesbian dies and the younger girl cries, it's clear that the tragedy of the story is supposed to lie in Irene locking away her identity (sexual and otherwise), only to come back to life again through a girl who is only playing with her feelings, and not in her being different. Irene's feeling of not being allowed by society (or the morals of society she internalized) to live as she wants and not her loving women is the problem that kills her, which really isn't typical at all for Italian cinema of this sort.

So believe it or not, there's some actual humanism - let's call it a heart - hidden away behind the all-important nudity and bada-bada-da soundtrack of this one. Wonders never cease.

 

Saturday, March 20, 2010

In short: The Sewer Rats (1974)

The car belonging to a man with a crippled leg (Richard Harrison; throughout the film only identified as "Cripple") breaks down in the muddiest part of nowhere. The only thing amounting to civilization close by is a muddy conglomerate of hovels populated by a handful of men (among them Gordon Mitchell) of dubious sanity and clearly lacking morality. Oh, and there's a single woman, Rita (Dagmar Lassander), the wife of one of the men. While everyone is busy keeping dangerous secrets and looking for gold in an old abandoned mine, she spends her time sleeping around with most  of the men, and laughing maniacally.

Although he has been greeted without enthusiasm, the nameless man decides to stay around for a while, sending everyone around him scuttling to find out what his hidden reason for staying might be. Is it after one of them? There are so many secrets going around that it's hard for the men to decide. Rita for her part tries her best to add the stranger to her collection of trophies, but he's a hard sell, driving the poor woman into provoking the other men even more.

It will just need a little more effort until everyone will be at each other's throats completely.

The Sewer Rats is a nice, grimy and decidedly muddy thriller that has ambitions on being a neo noir. Everyone here is basically a sleazier variation of one noir character type or the other, mixed up by throwing the more Spaghetti Western hero-like Harrison into the fray with them. The men (and the woman) are all decidedly unpleasant, but the film isn't as cynical as it could be - a few of them get slightly redeeming qualities, which proves helpful when the time of the big violent denouement comes and the viewer should care about what happens to them. Between the sleaze and the grime, the film shows some humanist strains - mostly in the way Harrison treats some of the other characters - that I found thoroughly surprising and quite satisfying.

A film like this always risks to become just a bit too cynical and falling a bit too much in love with wallowing in the mud (figurative and non-figurative). For me, films that go too far into that direction sometimes tend to lose the punch they are supposed to have. When everyone is an irredeemable bastard, I find it hard to care about anyone.

The Sewer Rats' Director Roberto Bianchi Montero avoids that pitfall more or less. While especially everything to do with Rita is as sleazy and exploitative as possible (and can well be read as quite misogynist), there are also moments of unexpected compassion for her, and it is this compassion that makes the downbeat tendencies of the film work all the better for me.