eugenie de sade cecilia

THE FLICKS: It’s ridiculously ironic that, thanks to companies like Blue Underground, I’ve written more comprehensive reviews for the work of Jess Franco than John Ford, Martin Scorsese or Steven Spielberg combined. Of course, Franco’s filmography has the edge in quantity, with some 200 films attributed to the director under various pseudonyms. But quality: that’s a word not often associated with any of his productions. So it’s surprising when you stumble upon something like Eugenie de Sade, another psycho-sexual foray into soft-core shenanigans based on the writings of the 17th author / pornographer / sadist Marquis de Sade. Franco freely admits an affinity for the writer, whose name lends a naughty sort of legitimacy to the director’s usual exploitation oeuvre. And in this 1970 entry starring Franco’s first real muse, Soledad Miranda (aka Susan Korda), he finds himself making a real “film” for only the 2nd or 3rd time in his entire career. As with most of Franco’s work, the success seems accidental. Eugenie de Sade shares the same “dream-like” quality of the director’s other notable exception, Venus in Furs; relating the story like a fevered flashback told from a first-person perspective. Here, that first-person is Eugenie, whose interest in deviant sexuality is encouraged by her step-father (Paul Muller), a highly-regarded author and closet pervert. After getting a taste of sexual satisfaction by killing a call girl, Eugenie and her father submit to the sensual dark side completely, murdering several hitchhikers and drifters at their isolated estate. Franco himself plays the pair’s intellectual rival, suspicious of their activities and committed to find the proof that will incriminate them. And when Eugenie falls in love with their next targeted victim, he finally gets his chance. Make no mistake, Eugenie de Sade is still an embarrassment by Hollywood standards. But for Franco fans it’s an embarrassment of riches, exploring all the director’s favorite themes and off-screen obsessions (once again, a jazz musician features prominently in the story and soundtrack). Soledad Miranda is darkly beautiful and high-school sweet at the same time. Although Franco has her huddled in a fetal position most of the film, when allowed to emote her eyes prove she could actually act if the situation demanded it. Meanwhile Paul Muller proves that hairy backs were still en vogue with the hippie generation. Eugenie stands out because Franco actually attempts to tell a story, rather than just link up disparate sex scenes into a logical approximation of one, as he does with Cecilia (1982), one of the director’s many travelogue soft-core films of the era. Starring the voluptuous Muriel Montosse as the wife of an aristrocrat whose sexual experience in the back of a limo triggers her rebirth as a pleasure-seeking swinger, Franco is on creative cruise control here. Despite a few scenic dolly shots, he lets the lovemaking play out in extended takes of heavy breathing, flesh-grabbing grope-fests. Wife Lina Romay makes a brief appearance as part of an incestuous night club act, but she’s gone before you know it. Produced under the original title Sexual Aberrations of a Housewife, this is pure exploitation filmmaking, no better or worse than anything else on Franco’s resume. THE FEATURES: Both movies look tremendous, with transfers perfectly in keeping with Blue Underground’s reputation. Along with the theatrical trailers for each film, Franco sits down to chat about related topics. Sexual Aberrations of Ceclia finds the director waxing nostalgic about the shoot in Portugal, which was much more liberated than his native Spain. While Franco de Sade give him an opportunity to plug the Marquis’ books and compliment Soledad’s performance, while vehemently denying any relationship with the actress, who died soon after filming was complete.