Review of Salon Kitty

4 / 10

Introduction


Those familiar with Tinto Brass`s oeuvre (`Caligula`, `Cheeky` et al) will, in part, know what to expect from this movie. There`s certainly no shortage of trademark bobbing bottoms and soft-focus scenes of general debauchery in this peculiarly un-erotic outing.

But in terms of subject matter, Brass himself confesses (in the lengthy interview contained on the disc) that this was intentionally a far more serious and sinister movie than his general euro-sexploitation soft-core output.

Loosely based on fact, `Salon Kitty` is the tale of an SS officer, Helmut Wallenberg (Helmut Berger) who is tasked with recruiting an elite squad of dedicated nazi women to serve as prostitutes for high-ranking members of the military, The notion is that they`ll be `planted` in the infamous `Salon Kitty` brothel where they`ll extract vital military secrets from unwitting senior soldiers. He installs secret microphones to capture their confessions which it is assumed they will freely give in moments of sexual ecstasy.

There is an air of Isherwood`s decadent pre-war Berlin here in the early scenes (in the brothel) where you almost expect someone to start singing `Come to the Cabaret` at any moment.

Particularly tasteless, and possibly the reinstalled 20 minutes previously cut from the movie in the UK, is the brutal training that each of the recruits endures which includes satisfying the depraved desires of brutal sex criminals, as well as the severely handicapped. (Things get almost surreal when a hunchbacked dwarf is introduced into the mandatory training programme…). None of the sexual content would be considered extreme in current climates, and is certainly not visually explicit, though none of the brutality and depravity is lost as a consequence. Make no mistake - this makes for some pretty queasy viewing!

All goes well for the sleazy power-hungry Wallenburg until it becomes clear that all is not going well for the Nazi war effort and plans start to fall apart at the seams.

Star turn, Margherita (Teresa Ann Savoy), falls in love with one of her clients, who, unaware of the secret microphones, tells her that he is going desert the army and join the allies, resulting in his execution as he rejoins his comrades. When she learns of his death (from a mocking member of his regiment) she simply shoots him dead. Then things start getting complicated.

Throughout the movie there is the slightly low-budget air of the movie trying to look bigger than it`s boots. Some of the interiors are impressive enough, but the sets look and feel stagy and contrived, despite being designed and produced by Ken Adam, famed for his Bond work amongst other things.



Video


Hmmm. Not impressed - despite having read rave reviews of the reworking this movie has had. The `fully restored` doesn`t amount to much really. The picture is lacking vibrancy throughout, looking washed out and lacking clarity and contrast. Of course, that may be down to the original print, which comes from an era that seemed to favour grainy, almost washed out stock. Yuk!

Still - at least it`s in offered up in anamorphic 16:9.



Audio


The mono English and Italian mono audio tracks are OK. Dialogue is clear enough - but little here to excite, sounding flat and, well, mono!



Features


There`s a very decent interview with a contemporary Tinto Brass that lasts for some 24 minutes which is entirely captivating. I found this far more enjoyable than the movie itself!

There are also some trailers for a couple of other cheesy euro soft-core titles, as well as a bunch of spaghetti westerns. Go figure!



Conclusion


This is another of those movies that tread a thin line between being an intelligent exploration into the corrupt heart of Nazism, and pure sexploitation (in common with Caviani`s `The Night Porter` and Visconti`s The Damned).

At 133 minutes, it`s just too long to sustain interest and whilst the narrative does occasionally become quite engaging, it`s let down by Tinto Brass`s natural inclination to linger longer than is strictly necessary on the `bobbing bottoms` that have become his enduring trademark.

In a kind light you might well see this as a perfectly plausible psychological exploration of the relationship between power, sex and fear. But in a slightly less kind light, you might also see this as another in a long line of highly un-erotic euro skin-flicks that had to tread so warily around the censors scissors that they end up failing on that count too.

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