La philosophie dans le boudoir

Wild colourful kaleidoscope of a film ... Based on De Sade and managing much better than Pasolini to convey De Sade's ideas in my opinion ... Whereas Pasolini's Salo was just an escalating catalogue of abuse, here we get De Sades philosophy as an opposition to staid society with the humour and playfulness of the writing intact How can a film like Salo be called a success when the only people who are going to put themselves through such a nihilistic cinematic experience are people who are already of the same political view as the film maker ... Therefore in my view Salo is a complete failure as a film ... Whereas this covers all the same ideas ( although more emphasis is given to choice and denial which is a much more intrinsic part of De Sade which Pasolini ignored completely ) and has fun with them ... In a crazy sixties hallucinatory fashion The philosophy is there ... Maybe a few few people began to question life more after seeing it ... You never know Just wish we could see a restored version as what is around now even on DVD leaves a lot to be desired And lets be honest ... No-one will ever look at squid quite the same again :))

I am of course being very generous to this bizarre rarity but whilst I've seen plenty of films with scenes like some of these, I don't recall seeing one that sustains it throughout. I suppose Salo is comparable but that is so depraved, dour and serious whilst this is so playful and light though also depraved. We begin with some Bacchanalian banquet orgy with sex, food and some of the wildest body painting ever, and then continue. The only slight respite is when the young, almost naked, couple go walking/dancing through the woods but even there amidst the most wonderfully shot autumnal scenes they become turned on by the sight of naked people bound to trees and being whipped and we get a ravishing riverside sequence. Another stand out scene involves a naked lady almost delirious as she pleasures herself with a bucket load of squid and fish, some still alive. My disc seemed to expire minutes before the end but that was probably just as well.

I was so anxious to see this, I had been waiting for years. I love searching out obscure films and finding those hidden gems, but this certainly isn't one of them. I honestly can't remember the plot or what it was about, except that this couple stumble upon a house that holds a society that has philosophical codes inspired by the Marquis de Sade. In this house is a bunch of people, diverse in ethnicity, age, and sexual deviations, lots of costumes, face-paint, Mardi Gras-looking makeup, girls holding snakes and bunnies, nude women, bashful nude men (nothing hardcore) all enjoying their oddities while "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" from Iron Butterfly blasts in the background. Then there was this one girl with the fish and the octopus that may very well have been an inspiration for Daikichi Amano's disgusting "art". Crazy stuff that isn't even really entertaining. The sleazefest becomes some kind of romantic tale at some point, then gets all messy. The scene from the white tile room with the paintings of body parts was beyond ridiculous. Not based on any actual stories from the Marquis de Sade, just inspired by scenes and philosophical opinions. Definitely not based upon the story "Philosophy In The Bedroom". A very silly, psychedelic film. A bad trip that I found boring. I was disappointed. I am so glad I did not buy this film.

Released in France in 1969 as "La Philosophie dans le Boudoir," 2 years passed before Allied Artists released it in the U.S. with the almighty X-rating luring in sex-starved audiences of that era. With its non-stop nudity and lip-smacking portrayal of every sexual deviation (including intercourse)known to mankind (except the scene where a lovely young morsel arrives in her room with a shopping bag of live squids, which she dumps on her bed and proceeds to have an all-time erotic time with--that was a new one for this jaded viewer), all photographed in ravishing Technicolor and lush settings (this was obviously a costly venture) this one-of-a-kind wallow in sexual deviance should be confined to a time capsule. The director, one Jacques Scandelari (a pseudonym?), stages a smorgasborg of erotica not seen since the film was belatedly released in the U.S. (were it not for the Supreme Court's lofty decision that "IAm Curious Yellow" was NOT obscene--and if only it were!), "Beyond Love and Evil" would have been seized by Customs and never released in the U.S. The story is simple enough: A young, handsome, pouty pretty-boy (Lucas De Chabanieux) is vamped by a well-preserved older woman , who in no time flat invites him to spend the weekend with her at her palatial country chateau. Lucas is in heaven, until he arrives at the place, which is its own kind of hell for a square kid like him. The mansion abounds with inhabitants totally at ease with none-stop orgies, floggings, rape, a nude conga line(including a few buck-naked black studs), you name it, it's all there presented for your delectation with a cast of exhibitionists never seen before--or since--on the silver screen (I certainly hope the producers of this gem splurged on a first-rate caterer). In the afternoon, the film presents it's one sole interlude of healthy, happy, hedonistic sex. Lucas joins Souchka on her invitation to explore the grounds of this "Shadey Pines for the Under-30 set", and, after passing such segments as various young naked studs tied to trees while being whipped by angry lesbians, the two would-be lovers become so aroused that they take a long-overdue rest by a muddy pond--resulting in one of the most heated depictions of sexual passion any moviegoer will probably come across in a lifetime. And I'll stop right here. The rest of the film, while still elegantly filmed, descends to a degree of debauchery that verges on the hilarious. Souchka is so enraged by poor Lucas's objections to her marriage and the orgy that follows (not to mention her husband's attempt to cut off poor Lucas's bare-buns purple-leather see-through outfit are thwarted by the poor lad's grabbing the dirty old man's dagger and plunging it into his varicose veins) that the old hag throws a hissy fit and has her burly guards expel him from her enchanted palace and toss him, sniveling and weeping, into the always-present mud (did it rain during the entire production). You'll never see me again, the old crone screams, while poor Lucas writhes around in the slime begging her to take him back (still attired in that damned purple see-through jumpsuit--which had already been torn off him at least three times in that magical weekend in the country--one hopes at least the dry-cleaners were well paid). There's no use going on. "Beyond Love and Evil" is the hoot of the century, and, except for the squids, an erotic carnival unknown to American audiences in 1971--or, I fear, to this day. Whether intentional or not, the undercurrent of humour gives this doozy of a movie a look at places you'll probably never want to go to, but does so with such robust, carefree energy (and, thankfully, it comes close to hardcore, but stops whenever it does) that it's a totally unexpected, gorgeously produced and photographed, and disarming delight! Whatever happened to it? (The original French version appears to have been heavily cut, but the dubbed, edited American version will more than suffice for conniseurs of eye-popping camp. Next to "Beyond Love and Evil," Russ Meyer comes off a rank amateur!)