Her Private Hell

I caught this on London Live-one of the UK's Freeview channels-we should be grateful to catch these rarities; trashy or worthy, they are nevertheless valuable snapshots of an era that must be puzzling to anyone under the age of 50.

Reading up, I see that the movie ran for between one or two years in London, as part of a double bill! I guess there were two principal audiences-lads like myself in their formative years, and the "dirty raincoat" brigade-middle-aged+ men who grew up in a repressed era of nannies, censorship etc. Who were grateful for any "flash" of feminine flesh-they probably enjoyed this.

It is distinctly unerotic, unlike its contemporary "Blow Up", but one shouldn't compare with that masterpiece. This comes from a long line of Nudge, Nudge-Wink, Wink embarrassing Brit flicks with a slight nod to more realism a la "Beat Girl". There is a leering mien throughout, so typical of that age, but we have to view it as a snapshot on that era; there are a few bare breasts, under skirt shots, unimpressive writhings and the obligatory overlong party scene which shows off a lot of mini-skirted leg-you get the picture?

At my age now I got more interest in spotting the 1960s hi-fi components, stylish furniture, terrific Quant-like mini dresses; the girls are universally nice-I wish I knew then what I know now! Oh..there's also a classic early Lamborghini sports car which nearly steals the picture. The "acting" is a joke, but that wasn't the point of these flicks. The B&W photography is very good-almost glistening in many places, with quite effective zooms and near-frantic in/out focusing.

I had to give it 3/10 for my review's heading, but I'd also give it an 8/10 for its period value.

This is the type of film that would have played at the Cameo Moulin or Tatler cinema in London. So it is surprising that there is little nudity in an era where boundaries were being pushed.

An untypical film from cult director Norman J Warren,it is one of his least interesting. Uneven direction and poor acting lessen the impact of the film.

My bid to watch the entire output of British cult director Norman J. Warren continues with HER PRIVATE HELL which, like LOVING FEELING, is a slight and rather insubstantial piece of filmmaking. It's shot in black and white and is quite well directed for the most part, so it's a pity that the story is so tame and small scale. Certainly not the drama that the title would have you believe.

The story is about an Italian girl who arrives in London looking for fame and fortune. Instead she becomes a model at a small fashion house, where over time she falls for the photographer and is coerced into posing topless. That's it; that's the thrust of the movie. HER PRIVATE HELL was made at the tail-end of the 1960s, a permissive era in which censorship was thankfully beginning to recede, so it's mildly explicit for the period with some sex scenes and topless nudity.

Other than that, there's very little to remember. The male characters are all sleazy and horrible and the less said about them the better. The script is unremarkable and seems to have been written in a hurry. Lucia Modugno is acceptable as the lead, but I never warmed to her character and I don't know whether that's due to the writing, her acting, or the direction. I appreciate that Warren made his film for very little money, but he could have made it more dramatic and thus more memorable.

The future British Lion of independently produced, low-budget, high-impact Splatter Norman J. Warren's audaciously salacious 'Nudie Cutie' 'Her Private Hell' proved to be a scurrilously flesh-flashing Box Office shattering, bra-bursting sensation, zealously soiling the minds and rumpled raincoats of a smut-starved Britain, tenaciously remaining on London cinema screens for an entire year! Exotically pretty Latinate brunette Marisa (Lucia Modugno) is lured to the heady environs of a monochromatically swinging 60s London, strongly beguiled by the offer of glamorous, well-paid modelling work, but the handsome, ingenuous Marisa very quickly finds herself both emotionally and financially ensnared by the dark machinations of the model agencies callous boss Neville (Robert Crewdson), summarily being used and abused by manipulative, perma-sweaty in-house photographer, and flash-pad renting cad Bernie (Terry Skelton), her considerable 'talents' aggressively sought after by the more groovy, sylph-waisted, switched-on shutter-bug Matt (Daniel Ollier), and it isn't too long until the boozy parties, petty jealousies, increasingly illicit photo shoots, and devious double-dealing crudely coalesce around poor, beleaguered Marisa's far from 'model' life and becomes 'Her Private Hell'. With a sweetly endearing performance from luscious Lucia Modugno, some remarkably nimble film-making from first time feature director Norman J. Warren, and a perfectly pant-swingingly groovy score by funk master John Scott, 'Her Private Hell' is a still brightly glistering skinflick, its lurid lustre undimmed by the passage of time.

Better known for his low-budget sci-fi efforts, British filmmaker Norman J. Warren cut his teeth shooting soft porn, of which HER PRIVATE HELL is an underwhelming example. Ho-hum script never lives up to the title.

Italian actress Lucia Modugno, who never came within shouting distance of the big time, stars as Marisa, a model who flies to London and secures a modeling job working for unscrupulous shutterbug Bernie (Terry Skelton in a one-note performance). Bernie's bosses, notably the hissable Pearl Catlin, are real villains, whose approach to the models in their stable smacks of human trafficking.

Problem with Glynn Christian's script is that it has to rely on the heroine being a complete idiot. She becomes a wined & dined famous fashion model but is never given more than walking around money, and simply doesn't protest enough at her slavery-like condition to be credible. Of course there's eventually a revolt and some later reel dramatics, but the film mainly clunks along on the back burner.

For 1968 this is not very sexy, with some topless footage but nowhere near the level of simulated sex that the fans were paying to see. Modugno is no knockout, and the "good guy" (sort of) romantic male lead, one-shot Daniel Oliver is just another boring imitation of David McCallum as Illya Kuryakin.

It's ironic that almost everyone from the '60s and '70s, regardless of merit, has developed some sort of cult following in recent years, and Warren is no exception. I've seen all of his films, and not a single one evokes any talent for the medium.