Sarno isn't interesting enough for me to study him. He's a sort of American Jess Franco, someone who seemingly just wants to make movies. Then if you added sex, in its peculiar soft core versions, you could make movies.
Some soft and hard core porn from this era really is interesting. This one is not as worthy as some I have commented on. But it does show that Sarno was plugged into the cinematic theories of the times. At least so far as story. The cinematic vision here is incompetent, even though he clearly had some notions (beach, wind, boats) about what might be done.
The story concerns a small town, and a mysterious young woman who abandoned at birth is looking for her mother. The town is populated by young adults who frequently engage in threesomes, thus earning the bread and butter. I have to say that though there are no genitals or pubic hair, this has it all over today's porn, simply because the bodies are normal ones.
But all that's uninteresting. Where the adventure comes in is in the layers. There is a ballad about a sprite who comes from the sea. It is repeated throughout by the town's balladeer, as a sort of fateful premonition. This merges with a song of similar lyrics sung relentlessly whenever our girl, Misty, is not being coy. The song is sung by a woman folksinger, a term we used to use in those days.
Then there is a visiting artist, with two women assistants, one an artist and the other a writer. They noodle with each other of course in artsy ways, and "discover" Misty as their subject for representing their versions of the local legend. See where this is going?
Finally, you'll find that there is a religious nut in town, someone who spouts religion and piety. Midfourties I'll guess. Turns out that she is repressed. Yes, folks, we have sex scenes with her as well. And of course she turns out to be the mother, and the thing ends with daughter directing (but not involved in) her pleasure.
All in all, it took some diagramming to get this straight, and I suppose some of these notions came from Gary Graver, pornmaker who was hanging out with Orson Welles.
I saw this together with the Joan Crawford, Walter Hustom "Rain." This was by far the better film, and where the other left a dirty task, this one seemed to weave a refreshing cosmology of urge.
Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.
Some soft and hard core porn from this era really is interesting. This one is not as worthy as some I have commented on. But it does show that Sarno was plugged into the cinematic theories of the times. At least so far as story. The cinematic vision here is incompetent, even though he clearly had some notions (beach, wind, boats) about what might be done.
The story concerns a small town, and a mysterious young woman who abandoned at birth is looking for her mother. The town is populated by young adults who frequently engage in threesomes, thus earning the bread and butter. I have to say that though there are no genitals or pubic hair, this has it all over today's porn, simply because the bodies are normal ones.
But all that's uninteresting. Where the adventure comes in is in the layers. There is a ballad about a sprite who comes from the sea. It is repeated throughout by the town's balladeer, as a sort of fateful premonition. This merges with a song of similar lyrics sung relentlessly whenever our girl, Misty, is not being coy. The song is sung by a woman folksinger, a term we used to use in those days.
Then there is a visiting artist, with two women assistants, one an artist and the other a writer. They noodle with each other of course in artsy ways, and "discover" Misty as their subject for representing their versions of the local legend. See where this is going?
Finally, you'll find that there is a religious nut in town, someone who spouts religion and piety. Midfourties I'll guess. Turns out that she is repressed. Yes, folks, we have sex scenes with her as well. And of course she turns out to be the mother, and the thing ends with daughter directing (but not involved in) her pleasure.
All in all, it took some diagramming to get this straight, and I suppose some of these notions came from Gary Graver, pornmaker who was hanging out with Orson Welles.
I saw this together with the Joan Crawford, Walter Hustom "Rain." This was by far the better film, and where the other left a dirty task, this one seemed to weave a refreshing cosmology of urge.
Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.