Recently, I joined an Adult Film Review Club as part of Pink and White Productions/PinkLabel.TV—like a book club but not—and I’ll be doing monthly reviews of older, lesser known titles that many of us may not even think of under the porn umbrella. The goal—to consider porn as a broad indie film genre, to recognize that there is more to porn than Pornhub, than the cum shot, than the tired depictions that have characterized it in a mainly negative light, one that paradoxically makes sex look bad. Radley Metzger, a legendary film maker of this ilk, considered by some a “master of sophisticated sexploitation,” directed The Lickerish Quartet, which made its debut in 1970. Perhaps one of the best dressed erotic films ever, this is the story of a seemingly aristocratic family—a father, mother and son—that becomes infatuated with an actress who they see in a silent stag film, and who they think is the same woman they see perform in a heart stopping performance on a motorcycle (The Wall of Death) at a carnival later the same evening. She accepts the father’s invitation to return home with them, home being the Castle of Balsorano in Italy’s Abruzzi Mountains, which hints of dead knights and hauntings. The father’s plan is to “trap” her into admitting who she really is, except that when the film is replayed the images have changed and the on-screen woman isn’t recognizable. With its existential aura, in time, we discover that no one is who they appear to be, an underlying theme of this movie, with the crossover of reality and illusion most obviously presented when the grown son insists on performing his magic act for the guest. The actress/daredevil performer manages to seduce each member of the family during her visit, and while there is ample nudity, explicit shots of genitalia are absent. The portrayed sex and sexuality, merging the erotic and the aesthetic, is successful—both arousing and provocative.
The Lickerish Quartet, was variously reviewed by Andy Warhol, “An outrageously kinky masterpiece;” Vincent Canby, “Metzger’s magnum opus, … ripe with incredible color and décor and movement;” while Roger Ebert considered “the plot so unbelievably, and unnecessarily, complex that the erotic possibilities are mostly lost.” While Ebert has a point—the story within a story within a story, and a similar layering of movies—gets very confusing, to some extent it doesn’t matter. As with most of his work, the American-born Metzger shot this film in Europe with cinematographer Hans Jura. The camera work, whether of the motorcycle stunt, or the castle’s interior, or the surrounding landscaping, is what makes this film exceptional. The crossover of reality with illusion and the visuals, makes you think of Fellini, and Antonioni’s Blowup, which in 1966, was groundbreaking with its explicit sexuality. The film which runs 90 minutes, was written by Metzger and Michael DeForrest, with music that heightens the pervading sensuality, by Stelvio Cipriani. Silvana Venturelli, who also starred in Camille 2000, plays The Visitor, the father and mother are played by Frank Wolff and Erika Remberg, respectively, and Paolo Turco is their adult son. Originally shot in Italian, it was later dubbed into English, which may be the most unsuccessful aspect—the dialogue, how it’s said more than what is said, is stilted to the point of being distracting.
