Charlotte Alexandra in Immortal Tales (IFC Films)

Back in the early 1970s, as porn was poking it’s way into the mainstream, a few daring filmmakers raised on arty fare like Bergman and Fellini tried to incorporate some deep ideas with blatant erotica, if not outright porn. Most were not artistically successful, though the Emmanuelle films did brisk business and David Hamilton managed some beautifully shot titillations. Tinto Brass (director of the infamous Caligula) came pretty damn close to success with Salon Kitty. Of course, nowadays we wouldn’t blink an eye, but back then it was pretty controversial stuff.

The Polish-born director Walerian Borowczyk is a largely forgotten member of this group. He directed many films, the most popular being Immoral Tales, a collection of four erotic short stories based in history. The Beast was meant to be one of those tales, but Borowczyk decided to expand it into a separate feature film. Unfortunately, one wishes he had kept it at its original length.

Two fading, elderly aristocratic French gentlemen convince a young woman to marry the boorish son of one of the men sight unseen. Apparently, the lad has not been baptized, and due to some odd addendum to a will, only a particular cardinal can perform the ceremony. Lucy (Lisbeth Hummel) arrives with her aunt to the country estate and then waits around until the cardinal shows up. She hears of the legend of a great beast ravishing a beautiful young woman named Romilda de l’Esperance, and after an extremely uncomfortable dinner, she goes to bed and dreams that she is de l’Esperance. That is pretty much the plot.

There’s a fairly erotic scene with the young woman, er, enjoying her dream, but it’s played as comedy and is more absurd than erotic. Most of the movie takes up with the less-than-amusing drawing comedy of the two brothers attempting to convince the cardinal to appear.

Borowczyk seems to be trying to say something about the desperation of fading aristocracy and how the female of the species will always be drawn consciously, or not, to the beast in all men and how taming that beast for one’s pleasure is tantamount to destroying it. So there’s some thought going into the work, but that doesn’t make it more interesting or less silly.

Happily, Immoral Tales is much better. In the first story, a young man takes his slightly younger, less experienced cousin to the beach and instructs her in the finer points of oral stimulation. In the second, a young, very religious girl is locked in her room by her mother and finds an erotic text, and after getting the OK from the Almighty, she decides to explore the temple that is her body.  Both of these sequences are excellent. Short, simple, and highly erotic, they play on the theme of innocence and portray sex as fresh and natural.

The third tale, and easily the longest, is about Erzsebet Bathory (Paloma Picasso, the artist’s daughter), the countess who bathed in the blood of virgins to keep herself looking youthful. Though it strays a bit, and is too long, it’s still a fascinating piece. There is no real horror or blood (save for her bath), but there are lots of nubile unclothed young things roaming through Bathory’s castle. There’s also a fascinating silent relationship between the countess and her squire that gives this a little more heft. In addition, a 50-woman nude catfight occurs because, well…why not?

The fourth part is the dud of the bunch. It concerns Lucrezia Borgia and her incestuous ways. It feels tossed off, and the production values are clearly compromised. The less said about this section, the better.

Altogether, Immoral Tales is an exquisitely photographed bit of old school arty mainstream erotica. It does its job with aplomb.