Following Salon Kitty and the creative fallout over Caligula,
Italian provocateur and softcore pornographer Tinto Brass slowly started moving
away from titillating period shock and awe towards the brand of joyful free
spirited epicurean hedonism his better works like Frivolous Lola later
became known for. Across the board, yes
Tinto likes to film his mostly nude sexually liberated voluptuous actresses
bending over with their behind sticking out or close ups of them fidgeting with
themselves pubic hair and all. Yes I
think the ‘maestro’ is an out and out pervert who has no problem groping his
actresses either by hand or by way of the camera.
And yet still, at least in his later works,
there’s a fighting feminine spirit shining brightly and proudly, freely
strutting sex and flesh about in a manner that felt life affirming rather than repugnant
kitschy shock. Which makes the new Cult
Films limited spine numbered special edition of his 1985 written-directed
post-WWII drama Miranda all the more refreshing featuring maybe his most
playfully bawdy erotica leading up to 1998’s Frivolous Lola and one of
Italian cinema’s most striking sex symbols with actress Serena Grandi in the
titular role.
An often comical and of course naughty period piece, Miranda loosely based on Carlo Goldoni’s three-act sex comedy La Locandiera i.e. The Mistress of the Inn follows our heroine as an innkeeper residing in a small Po Valley village. Following being widowed after losing her husband to the Second World War, she avoids marriage under the pretense of her husband’s “return” from duty while frolicking about with several other lovers in the town including Carlo (Franco Interlenghi) a wealthy ex-fascist and Norman (Andy J. Forest) an American engineer overseeing renovation of the town. All the while, unbeknownst to her, she’s leading on a young employee at the inn named Tony (Franco Branciaroli) working the bar who gradually develops a burning desire for her. She keeps him at bay, at least for a while until she decides on which of her suitors truly understands her desires.
Boasting a rousing and startlingly romantic score by the legendary Riz Ortolani and handsomely rendered cinematography by recurring cameraman Silvano Ippoliti, Miranda unlike its period wartime predecessor Salon Kitty finds the joyousness in displaying the human form naked and/or engaged in sex. Whereas Caligula felt vomitous and excessive, Miranda while indeed boundary pushing and a bit tawdry in parts feels somewhat restrained considering what we usually end up with from this director.
Sure there’s
some parts in it of Serena Grandi stroking either a prop or a real erection,
but for all of its scopophilia there’s still running through this movie, as
with Frivolous Lola, a girl power energy that you want to root for. Reportedly a favorite of Federico Fellini who
also had a fixation on oversized voluptuous women, Miranda largely
succeeds thanks to the screen presence and fearlessness of Serena Grandi who
puts herself further out on a limb than most other actresses taking on the
sleazy but sometimes involving and even engrossing director’s vision.
Cult Films, as with Salon Kitty, offer a limited special-edition slipcover in a numbered case housing reversible sleeve art, a theatrical trailer and an interview with Tinto Brass. Between the two releases, Miranda is a surprisingly welcome addition. Tinto Grabass isn’t usually my cup of tea and by now for the blog I’ve waded through five of his features. But in all of that, two stood out as exceptional for how they rally behind their sexually liberated heroines. Sure its softcore sexploitation but with Miranda and Frivolous Lola, its a rare opportunity to see that kind of joyful optimism and life affirming quality from a filmmaker ordinarily trained on ogling. While still not for all tastes (I certainly have my reservations about some of them), this one worked as a film and Cult Films’ disc release is a nice one. Recommended!
--Andrew Kotwicki