Camille 2000

CAMILLE 2000

Aspect ratio: 2.35:1 (Panavision)

Sound format: Mono

Whilst visiting Rome, an amorous nobleman (Nino Castelnuovo) falls in love with a beautiful young libertine (Daniele Gaubert), but their unlikely romance is opposed by Castelnuovo's wealthy father (Massimo Serato), and Fate deals a tragic blow...

A sexed-up love story for the swinging Sixties, adapted from a literary source (Alexandre Dumas' 'La Dame aux Camelias') by screenwriter Michael DeForrest, and directed with freewheeling flair by Radley Metzger who, along with the likes of Russ Meyer and Joe Sarno, is credited with redefining the parameters of 'Adult' cinema throughout the 1960's and 70's. Using the scope format for the last time in his career, Metzger's exploration of 'la dolce vita' is rich in visual excess (note the emphasis on reflective surfaces, for example), though the film's sexual candor seems alarmingly coy by modern standards. Production values are handsome throughout, and the performances are engaging and humane (Castelnuovo and Gaubert are particularly memorable), despite weak post-sync dubbing. Though set in an unspecified future, Enrico Sabbatini's wacked-out set designs locate the movie firmly within its period, and Piero Piccioni's 'wah-wah' music score has become something of a cult item amongst exploitation devotees. Ultimately, CAMILLE 2000 is an acquired taste, but fans of this director's elegant softcore erotica won't be disappointed. Next up for Metzger was THE LICKERISH QUARTET (1970), which many consider his best film.

Camille 2000, which could be called the first of the modern, adult films, was among those trendsetting, forward-looking pictures that marked the end of the 1960's. That said, it's not a fantastic film, but fairly well done. The pill popping, hard driving female of the film is asked, at the opening of the picture, whether she ever comes down. "Not if I can help it," she replies, tossing another handfull of drugs into her mouth. In a sense, that's the theme of the film; lurid and risque for the time, but somewhat tame compared to today's endless stream of mindless porn films.

I'm glad I saw it. There are life lessons about love, sex, art, pleasure, honesty, and denial here. Radley Metzger at his best is a very honest and true-to-life filmmaker. Even when he's being surreal and throwing illusions at you like in "The Lickerish Quartet" he's being brutally honest and teaching you something about yourself and about life. Neither prudish, nor libertine, just honest, Metzger artistically explored the areas of life that other filmmakers either avoided or treated with juvenile snickering attitudes. Of course he was a businessman too and his choice of subject matter was no doubt shaped in part by what was commercially viable, but he was also a brave and dedicated craftsman who helps us still to understand and grow wiser. The emotional impact of this film is not unlike "Therese and Isabell", though the eye candy in this film makes it an easier viewing experience. Not all of Metzger's films hold up today, but this is one that does.

OK, the pace is slow and the sex now looks tame, but Radley Metger's once-notorious Swinging Sixties update of the old romantic warhorse is worth sticking with - if only as a time-capsule of the decade that inspired it. The scene has shifted from Belle Epoque Paris to 'dolce vita' Rome, and the dying courtesan (Daniele Gaubert) is not a consumptive but a junkie. But she's still the 'Lady of the Camellias' - with flowers aplenty. Watch a vase of them zoom hilariously in and out of focus as her young lover (Nino Castelnuovo - whose career looked so promising in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg!) teaches her the true meaning of orgasm.

All jokes aside, this version is surprisingly close to the Alexandre Dumas fils novel, with its dark core of eroticism and death. Most of the sex takes place in Marguerite's stunning white boudoir - ceiling mirrors, chiffon drapes and invisible plastic chairs. At the film's end, our heroine is confined to an oxygen tent after her last fatal OD. Visually, the setting is more or less identical. Her on-and-off love affair with priggish young Armand reaches its 'climax' at an eye-popping S & M theme party. (Cue for aluminium Paco Rabanne dresses and copulation in a giant gold cage!) This slick Vogue-ish sadism is sleazy but not gratuitous: it mirrors the cruelty at the story's heart.

Sorry, I'm making all this sound like Art, which it's not. Metzger's direction is alternately stylish and ham-fisted, and as for the acting of Mlle. Gaubert...well, let's just say Garbo and Sarah Bernhardt can rest safely on their laurels. The supporting actors are the veritable cream of Eurotrash - Silvana Venturelli as scheming sex-pot Olympe, Roberto Bisacco as libertine Gaston, Eleonora Rossi-Drago as high-fashion procuress Prudence - but they have far too little to do. The real star of this film is set and costume designer Enrico Sabbatini. His work makes Austin Powers look like an exercise in restraint!

David Melville

The main reason to watch Camille 2000, full disclosure here, is leading actress Danièle Gaubert, a successful model and one of the most beautiful women ever to appear in European cinema. She made about a dozen movies back in the sixties, and retired from acting in 1972 when she married skier Jean-Claude Killy. She falls somewhere between "Wow" and "Holy $#*%". There, I said it. Her astonishing looks make her a convincing figure as the beautiful muse-prostitute at the center of a decadent "scene", set in the future world of 2000, but she was also fairly experienced and accomplished as an actress by this time and had good chemistry with Nino Castelnuovo, who plays the naively romantic Armand. Although the year 2000 as viewed from the angle of the pop art late 60s is a bit laughable from this end, the central doomed romance at the heart of the story is still affecting to watch today, and the supporting performances, all of which blend a decadent insouciance with closet romanticism, flesh out the dramatic landscape nicely. Worth a watch.