Chase_Witherspoon

Beatnik version of 'Compulsion' co-stars Falk playing a riddle-speaking philosopher and drug dealer who gets the idea to murder someone - anyone - for kicks.

In his second picture, Falk cultivates a calm, calculating mafia-esque persona with a psychopathic streak, more than a hint of things to come in a subsequently long and illustrious career.

Despite Falk's masterclass, it's Jack Betts who stars as a grieving brother obsessed with finding a killer(s), whilst Lord (future mother to Patrick Warburton) is the wayward production assistant who befriends then agrees to help him entrap the culprits.

Compact, tense and well-acted Canadian noir exaggerates lyrical dialogue - 'why don't you cut out man' - and also cuts a few plot corners in an economical 65 minutes resulting in a satisfying crime-thriller that's entertaining in spite of its austerity and a must-see for Columbo fans.

Technically well-made but no less lurid than D'Amato's most notorious outings, the intrepid photo-journalist (Gemser) begins work on an expose starting with a misogynistic playboy (Bloch) whose harem of vulnerable dolls are forced to participate in sordid activities for the pleasure of his guests. After a brief sojourn to Venice, she manages to infiltrate an exclusive ladies resort wherein its discovered that there exists a secret society of freaks who go beyond all conventional limits to indulge sick fantasies.

Mr Gemser aka Gabriele Tinti co-stars as a dashing aristocrat, Paolo Senatore his promiscuous wife, and beautiful Lorraine De Selle appears briefly as one of Bloch's harem girls whose fallen out of favour with the controlling boss. American ex-pat Roger Browne features in the film's last act playing the morally corrupt politician. The acting is unremarkable, nothing too intense nor casual, but then it's the physical performances which possibly matter most.

Elaborate costumes, opulent sets, disco soundtrack and attractive scenery (New York, Venice) are all first rate for a sexploitation flick, but the film's momentum is inhibited by the meandering plot (I saw the 100 minute uncut version released by Blue Underground) which places more emphasis on hardcore content than anything else. And despite being tagged a horror film, there's nothing to fear until the infamous last few reels which are akin to nazisploitation in their sadistic excess (particularly nasty stuff shot in grainy 8mm style).

Aesthetically interesting, sometimes funny ('me Tarzan, you Jane, now Jane eat Tarzan') but equally quite degrading and likely to disappoint audiences who've perhaps arrived looking for conventional horror. For those who appreciate D'Amato's unique 'genre flexible' style, 'Emanuelle in America' should hold artistic appeal, if not necessarily entertainment value.

Random encounters with young adoring women pushes frigid Hunter beyond his sexually repressed limit, and there seems to be no end to the procession of prospective victims to test his weakened threshold.

Only local girl Barbara (Turney) appears off-limits as the killing spree becomes more brazen. The frequency of the crimes isn't completely out of the realms of possibility when you consider how prolific serial killers were in the 60s-80s, but there's still of lot of plot latitude enabling this perp, his risky business in obvious proximity to potential witnesses yet his crimes are bold and practically uninhibited.

Hunter is chilling playing against type, trusted, timid school sports coach by day, twisted peeping Tom and serial killer by night, whilst Turney gains sympathy as the lonely-heart neighbour whose affections for the unstable bachelor never seem to gain his attention no matter how persistent her efforts. Turney seemed like a capable actress whose career was flourishing when she died prematurely in 1978.

Exploitation film fans should also relish the sight of fresh-faced Roberta Collins playing the sassy call girl with whom Hunter's character role plays his perverted desires in a couple of scenes.

Violent and rudderless, just a procession of frenzied murders in a loose plot structure, it's perhaps easy to understand why the film could be loathed for its apparent indifference, given there's little effort paid to solving the crimes, Hunter's character able to plunder with impunity then hide virtually in plain sight. Despite the grim treatment, 'The Arousers' (aka 'Sweet Kill') is a fairly salacious grindhouse classic that shouldn't disappoint those who appreciate this type of gritty, gloomy thriller.