Immoral Tales

Released by: Arrow
Released on: September 9, 2014
Director: Walerian Borowczyk
Cast: Paloma Picasso, Lise Danvers, Fabrice Luchini, Charlotte Alexandra, Pascale Christophe, Florence Bellamy, Jacopo Berinizi
Year: 1974
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The Movie:

Immoral Tales (original title: Contes Immoraux) is a cinematic compendium of erotic tales from Polish director Walerian Borowczyk who had, until this point, made mostly animated shorts, many of which were inspired by silent filmmakers. The first segment, “The Tide,” deals with young cousins, André (Fabrice Luchini) and Julie (Lise Danvers), enjoying an afternoon on the beach as the tide rolls in. Not content with simply exploring the rocks beneath a cloudy sky, André attempts to instruct Julie in the art of fellatio, hoping to synchronize his own climax with the moment of high tide. The second segment, “Therese Philosphe,” is a period piece that concerns a girl named Therese (Charlotte Alexadra) who, punished for disobedience, is locked in her room with a basket of vegetables and various religious paraphernalia. She imagines an erotic encounter with Christ and masturbates with a cucumber. The third tale, “The True Story of the Beast of Gevaudan,” involves a beautiful young woman trekking through the French countryside, only to be terrorized and raped by a large, hairy hominid with a rat-like face. The fourth story, “Erzsebet Bathory,” focuses on the infamous Hungarian countess—played here by Paloma Picasso (daughter of famous artist Pablo)—who murdered and bathed in the blood of hundreds of girls in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. The final tale, “Lucrezia Borgia,” is also historical in nature, based upon the antics of the Borgia clan who first rose to power in Renaissance Italy when father Rodrigo became Pope Alexander VI. In Borowczyk's version of events, Lucrezia (Florence Bellamy) is seduced by her father (Jacopo Berinizi) and her brother Cesare (Lorenzo Berinizi), who tag-team her while wearing the holy vestments of the Roman Catholic Church.

While the first two tales in this anthology are fictional in nature, the last three are grounded in real-life situations that lend themselves to horror. “The True Story of the Beast of Gevaudan” has its basis in a documented yet bizarre event that to this day remains unsolved. Between 1764 and 1767, innumerable men, women, and children (between 100 and 300 in all, depending on the estimate) were attacked, slaughtered, and partially eaten by what may have been a dog, a wolf, or a hyena. The attacks were never definitively explained and continue to fascinate both historians and horror buffs to this day. “Erzsebet Bathory,” by the same token, was based on the real-life figure of the same name, who had, just a few years before Immoral Tales graced the screen, been the subject of a popular book by Valentine Penrose. That book had so fascinated the public that Hammer had very liberally adapted it as the Gothic horror yarn Countess Dracula (1970), adding a heterosexual love story and a supernatural twist for good measure. And finally, “Lucrezia Borgia” deals with the woman of the same name who has been accused by some historians of murdering her victims with poison concealed in her ring.

None of Borowczyk's adaptations are particularly accurate or horrific, but they aren't really meant to be. Though they were based on incidents that have provided plenty of fodder for horror cinema over the years, these tales are meant to be sexual. In the one about the vampiric countess, Borowczyk creates an ode to the naked female form, with Bathory's narcissistic sadism playing second fiddle to her lesbianism.

The film proved a difficult sell in much of Europe and the United States. “The True Story of the Beast of Gevaudan” (which was anything but true) in particular was deemed too graphic for release in most areas, thanks to a "plot" completely woven from rape and beastility and near-constant close-ups of the beast's ejaculating phallus. With the film having been deemed too long anyway, Borowczyk struck the segment, expanding it into a feature-length work of its own and releasing it the following year. (The original segment was then lost until almost four decades later, when a print was discovered in a French archive.) After being retooled, Immoral Tales was given a release in various parts of Europe, where it met with moderate success despite censorship troubles in France and Europe. (Borowczyk's grudging truncation of the film did little to appease the censors in either country).

Now, four decades after its original release, the film has something of a cult following, as do most of Borowczyk's other features (including The Beast, 1975, and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Miss Osbourne, 1981, both of which have been released by Arrow and reviewed by Rock! Shock! Pop!). The affection for them certainly isn't due to their acting, which is atrocious across the board, or for the intricacy of the plot development and character dissections. Make no mistake about it: Immoral Tales is intended to titillate, albeit with an arthouse approach rare in this kind of release. Does Borowczyk succeed? Probably not for most, though no doubt there are some who will find the film's various segments erotic. Where the film does work is in Borowczyk's direction; while it isn't as assured as that for The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Miss Osbourne, it does feature flashes of Borowczyk's visual brilliance: Julie's wade through the tidepool, Therese's unwholesome vision, Bathory's bloody bath, Lucrezia's incestuous seduction… The film is a trove of offensive tropes done up in the rudiments of Borowczyk's trademark style, which was at this point just beginning to coalesce.

Audio/Video/Extras:

Arrow's superior transfer of Borowczyk's most controversial production certainly helps establish the film as one of the director's most misunderstood. When seen in its full glory, Immoral Tales is a stunning visual treat, one in which whites and reds predominate. Arrow has given the film an MPEG-4 AVC encode in 1080p high definition, with a 1.66:1 aspect ratio recreating the look of its original theatrical release. Given the length of the film (and the fact that the disc contains two different versions as well as a number of extras), Arrow was wise to utilize a 50GB BD with its increased capacity for information storage. The first, fourth, and fifth segments look stunning: colors blaze to life while detail stuns. Grain is largely organic and filmic. The second segment is a bit less detailed and far grainier, but it still looks good. The only segment to fare poorly when compared to the rest is “The Beast,” but that's to be expected, given that original elements were only recently discovered (and appear to have been culled from 16mm). Grain is considerable and colors are less robust in this segment, but there's still a great deal of detail, thanks to the lush forest locale.

Audio is presented in French LPCM 1.0 with optional English subtitles. The soundtrack fares well overall; there's little dialogue and long patches with little music. Other sections have a stronger musical accompaniment, usually to set the period rather than to draw a specific emotional reaction from the audience. All in all, the sound is solidly presented with no problems.

As has been the case with their BD releases of other Borowczyk films, Arrow has seen fit to load Immoral Tales with extras, not the least of which is an introduction by film critic and Borowczyk historian Daniel Bird, who discusses the director's “history and style.” The intro lasts for a little over five minutes, with Bird's commentary provided via onscreen writing rather than spoken dissertation. There are also extensive quotes from primary sources from the time of the film's release. “Love Reveals Itself” is an interview with cinematographer Noí«l Véry (who shot one of the film's segments) and production manager Domique Ségrétin. These are presented as a mixture of audio commentary over images from the film and on-camera footage (mostly the former). The program lasts for 16:42. The speakers are French, but English subtitles have been included.

One of the disc's most important extras, at least for fans of the director, is “Obscure Pleasures,” a 1985 interview with the man, which was filmed for Britain's Channel Four documentary series Visions. While it was never broadcast, it is now made available as part of this extensive set. The documentary lasts for approximately an hour and features imagery from a host of Borowczyk productions, including the animated shorts that graced so much of his early career. Borowczyk speaks French, but English subtitles are provided. (The program is also divided into more chapters than the feature film itself!) The clips are surprisingly sharp, and the program is not to be missed.

“Blow-Ups” is an examination of Borowczyk's fine art, which includes paintings, pencil and ink drawings, political posters, and lithographs. It lasts 4:43.

There's also a trailer for the film, which runs 2:18 and focuses on the “Erzsebet Bathory” story.

But far and away the best thing about Arrow's release is the inclusion of both versions of the film in hi-def: the well-known theatrical cut as well as the longer L'ȃge d'or cut (which is the one described in the first section of this review). Completists will want to watch both for comparison purposes, but make no mistake about it: the L'ȃge d'or cut is the one most will want to revisit.

The Final Word:

Arrow has topped themselves once again, proving why they're the best Britain has to offer when it comes to bringing bizarre and offbeat cinema to the Blu-ray format. Immoral Tales continues a tradition of special editions that really are special: the film presented in the best condition possible and accompanied by numerous terrific extras.

Christopher Workman is a freelance writer, film critic, and co-author (with Troy Howarth) of the Tome of Terror horror film review series. Volume 2 of that series (covering the 1930s) is currently available from Midnight Marquee Press, Inc.

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