The Voyeur (1994)

The Worst Film Ever

That was an excellent one.

hyped garbage

The film makes a home in your brain and the only cure is to see it again.

While it's hard to take a Tinto Brass film as anything more than a guilty pleasure, L'uomo che guarda may be the closest he ever came to making a film with real depth and it succeeds in juggling campy erotica with character study and a statement about human nature. While the blatant sexuality and skimpy outfits often border on the absurd, and often make it difficult to take the story seriously - especially in the scenes with Dodo's father and his assistant - this isn't as extreme as in Brass's recent work, especially the hilarious Cosi fan tutte. And in several other scenes - the one with the bisexual photographer stands out, as well as the nudist beach dream sequence - the nudity and sex are used in a more mature, and even disturbing fashion. Brass isn't known for subtlety or minimalism in his sex scenes, and this film is no exception, but he uses it more smartly this time, constructing an interesting and complex character in Dodo and saying something more interesting than usual about voyeurism in human sexuality and, as an extension, in film. A smart erotic film that tries to make the viewer think rather than just turn them on, and definitely one worth checking out for anyone not offended by nudity and blatant sexuality.

Revered among aficionados of erotic cinema , director Giovanni "Tinto" Brass remains something of an acquired taste for the rest of the movie-going mundo. From his semi-respectable beginnings with the likes of COL CUORE IN GOLA (a/k/a I AM WHAT I AM) and NEROSUBIANCO – which memorably did the rounds of stateside theaters as THE ARTFUL PENETRATION OF BARBARA before settling onto the more literal and less censor-baiting BLACK ON WHITE – to his devil may care paeans to the female rump such as COSI FAN TUTTE, TRASGREDIRE and P.O. BOX TINTO BRASS, Brass has provided considerable grist to the mill of his detractors, still legion among the critical community, who consider him little more than a hack without interest beyond the prurient. As if to cater to those who didn't have the balls to fess up to their girlie watcher's inclination, he would occasionally craft something a bit more ambitious, drawing from historical fact (SALON KITTY, CALIGULA) or literary source (LA CHIAVE, SENSO '45), temporarily placating the highbrows while already preparing an upcoming unapologetic skin fest.Not credited as such, VOYEUR was based on Alberto Moravia's latter-day novel L'UOMO CHE GUARDA, which the author had conceded for adaptation prior to his death in 1990. However, his wife and daughter, in charge of the estate, strongly opposed the book being bartered to what they considered a mere pornographer. Brass went ahead anyway and screened them the results prior to general release in hope of still securing the justification that comes with literary credit. Its absence speaks for itself. Moravia himself may have been as carefree a lecher as Brass, considering the large number of heavy breathing cinematic renditions he agreed to during his lifetime. For some reason, stunning Stefania Sandrelli – who had been in the most applauded of all Moravia movies, Bernardo Bertolucci's THE CONFORMIST – ended up shedding her wardrobe more than any other actress as CONJUGAL LOVE, DESIDERIA and THE LIE (the latter two based on the author's TIME OF DESECRATION and L'ATTENZIONE respectively) duly attest. This track record in mind, old Alberto would surely have appreciated Tinto's take on his purple prose.A literal translation of the Italian title would be "The Man Who Watches" and this description befits lead character Dodo (a solid performance by Franco Casale from Stelvio Massi's odd giallo ARABELLA, BLACK ANGEL), a Roman literary professor and virtual bystander in his own life. His apathy is at least partly to blame for the recent departure of his breathtaking spouse Silvia, not so much played as quite literally made flesh by Polish model Katarina Vasilissa, who drifts in 'n' out of his existence whilst guarding the mystery of her motives. This dreamlike narrative strand is beautifully handled but contrasts enormously with the frankly tiresome broad comedy routines set at the house of Dodo's decrepit yet still ridiculously virile old dad, played in less than convincing old age make up by Brass regular Franco Brianciaroli. His emotionally crippling lethargy a suggested product of the feared inability of filling his respected father's big shoes, Dodo bears involuntary witness to hugely pecker-ed pater (yep, Tinto has dragged out the prosthetics again !) attempting to seduce nubile housekeeper Fausta, a caricature constantly on the verge of spilling out of her half-buttoned blouse, portrayed with infectious good humor by curvaceous Cristina Garavaglia from Luigi Russo's straight-up skin flick FEAR OF SCANDAL. This brand of farce may have a long tradition in Italian cinema but it doesn't travel well. The filmmaker seems more at home when delivering the concentrated carnality of Dodo's encounters with his estranged wife in a sparsely attended cinema (showing THE KEY) and with African exchange student Pascasie, memorably portrayed by gorgeous Raffaella Offidani who left an indelible impression as the hapless prostitute ravished (and ravaged) by the title character in Stuart Gordon's underrated CASTLE FREAK. Also watch for veteran exploitation actress Martine Brochard, from Domenico Paolella's notorious STORY OF A CLOISTERED NUN and Umberto Lenzi's ramshackle giallo EYEBALL, as the lovelorn Contessa who comes to visit Dodo's dad.Though often cited by "those in the know" as quintessential Brass, my main problem with VOYEUR lies in the lack of sympathetic characters. Though apparently empowered by her decision to depart, Silvia simply turns out to have been fornicating her father in law on the side, marking her out as one of the drippiest of the director's pro-active heroines by far. Fortunately, the wall to wall skin display facilitates overlooking such narrative shortcomings, with a nudist beach orgy thrown in at the eleventh hour seemingly just to up the epidermal ante. Regular Brass contributor Massimo Di Venanzo points his camera in the right direction, shooting pretty pictures of female posteriors and the eternal city alike. Veteran composer Riz Ortolani, who will probably go to his grave forever identified with that insanely catchy tune "More" from the MONDO CANE soundtrack in spite of an estimable subsequent track record, adds a stylishly playful score, successfully soothing over the sutures brought on by jarringly shifting moods, partly recycled from his work on Brass' vastly superior PAPRIKA.

Buxom women,faithful husbands,uncanny atmosphere,strange _aggressivity and twisted desire,perverts ....One of the best five erotic movies ever made.There are persons whose creativity is a constant source of delight for their admirers; plus, they have the advantage ,or the constitutive gift of the large—scale. They create MANY fine, satisfying things. Their creativity is sometimes uneven; in this we see but a sign that it's an organic fact. Their less—successful things reveal to analysis the secret of the failure—it is that factor ,or that.You can't lie yourself about these things. You can't cheat. You like the man as expressed in his creativity, in his reflection, in his objective thought, in his achievements. It's the most obvious thing; you begin by noticing it. There are nonetheless the works, the achievements themselves that you admire, that you savor ,and not 'the man' (who would be a mere abstraction if considered otherwise than the mind that created those plentifully pleasing things).This is how I feel about Brass (and also about a few others—firstly Welles, Giuseppe Patroni Griffi, Hitchcock, etc.).These persons mean movies. It's a primary fact—the mere concreteness of it guides the thought. I came to know Brass' movies when I was 18. He has been since one of the few directors whose work is a source of immediate interest for me—on my side of life, hither, hereby. Speaking about his best movies (he has some flops too, this is here beside the point) I never need to plead ;I simply indicate the qualities of his movies.The one here is among his very best films. Very atmospheric, very interesting. The woman--Katarina Vasilissa-- is maybe Brass' most beautiful gift to its admirers. This is a wonderful thing with Brass—some speak about dirty desires, etc.. Yet with Brass there is something almost touching and worthy in the act of some men looking between an actress' legs—it's not dirty, it's not phony. Brass, pushing the things, gave, paradoxically, its human dimension to the act of watching erotic films.He is not the only one to have done that. Yet he is perhaps the best, and the most conspicuous and famous. He situated the fact in its own terms; he stated it correctly. He knew what a certain audience want; he aimed exactly, and he gave that audience what was needed. Watching an erotic film is watching a (faked, usually) sexual act; or looking between an actress' legs. Well, Brass gave this activity its true and human and concrete dimensions.There are voyeurs and spies in his films. The sexual act is spied, watched. Yet this remains within the confines of the humans. In Brass' films, the voyeurism is the act of a pervert; yet this pervert is rightly situated, if I may say so.Francesco Casale spies Katarina Vasilissa in The Voyeur.In La Chiave, the old husband spies his horny wife—while she pisses, or while she's in the bathtub, or simply as she sleeps. An image enjoyed by Brass is that of the woman pissing; and this may be, indeed, a fine show. Serena Grandi is seen, watched pissing in Miranda (1985). Stefania Sandrelli is seen pissing in The Key. In Senso '45 (2002) Anna Galiena pisses after a sexual act (a very healthy habit, it prevents infections).This is correlated with Brass' huge appetite for the derrières of his actresses.It looks like Katarina Vasilissa didn't really make a career in the cinema. That's too bad. Brass worked with several able actresses (Mme Sandrelli, Mme Grandi, Mme Galiena, etc.); Katarina Vasilissa isn't one of them. But she is outstanding. Brass explores the huge _expressivity of her naked body. For me, Katarina is a legend, and a cult actress. And I can say the same things about her colleague in this movie, the strikingly beautiful Cristina Garavaglia. She deserved a real career. Yet the number of the movies made by these two actresses is certainly irrelevant, since they had the chance of making one of the best ten erotic films ever. (To give a counterexample, Mme. Kristel has an impressive career—yet she NEVER had the chance of such a film.)The Voyeur has a certain dreamy look, a dreamy feel, enhanced by Brass flair for the grotesque and the bizarre _expressivity. Brass' cinematographic styles reaches here one of its richest moments. The Voyeur is a peak, and a feast of Brass style.In Brass' films, the woman is essentially a mistress; if she's a wife, she's a depraved, horny one. On the other hand, in Brass' movies the husbands have an insatiable lust for their wives. They do indeed ceaselessly desire their women. In various movies, Mmes. Sandrelli, Vasilissa, Galliena have husbands that intensely desire them; while Mme. Grandi will get one at the final of her "Miranda". The male is the one who desires and sexually adores his wife.The cinema was invented to make films like Brass' The Voyeur.

The story of erotic films in the 1990s is largely a very sad one. American main stream cinema seems to avoid the subject altogether, B movies are obsessed with coupling sex with violence and death, and the typical porno is as exciting as drying paint. But there are a few exceptions, most notably the films of Tinto Brass, and this film here is a prime example.What is so unique about Brass' films of this decade (and to a slightly lesser degree his 1980s films as well) is how they manage to combine eroticism with an explicitness that is close to hardcore porn, and that without ever looking seedy or overly stylish. Greatly supporting this effect are the music of Riz Ortolani and the excellent cinematography by Massimo Di Venanzo. With L'Uomo che guarda Brass seems to be telling the porno makers: "this is how a sex film can and should look like".The UK certificated version of this is about 8 minutes shorter than the original, but even that version would have no chance of an R rating in the USA. The quality of the English dubbing is a bit better than usual, but still we have to endure the traditional incomprehensible fake American accent for the leading male as in so many Italian films.