Obsession: A Taste for Fear (Piccio Raffanini, 1988)

As I was noodling with what to write about in regard to Obsession: A Taste for Fear (a.k.a. Pathos - Segreta inquietudine), the bulk of the thought-based anomalies that began rattling around in my head involved statements pertaining to the aggressive manner in which this film depicts the 1980s. Realizing that I had already written a review like that (Valet Girls), I started to panic. However, just as I was about to give up and start writing about stockings and pantyhose, I remembered the sound Virginia Hey's car makes at around the twenty-seven minute mark. Whereas cars in 1980s roared pretty much the same way they have always done, Virginia Hey's car sounded different. Then it dawned on me. This isn't a hyper-stylized depiction of the 1980s, it's a hyper-stylized depiction of the future. While some might argue that Virginia Hey's car is merely a prototype (one of the perks of being a successful artist during the 1980s), the moment Lt. Arnold pulls out his gun and fires a shot at a fleeing vehicle was when I officially declared this film to be a futuristic science fiction cyberpunk giallo. The reason? It's simple, really, cops didn't carry ray-guns in 1980s. Another thing that clued me in to the film's futuristic setting was the fact that the characters watch bondage snuff porn on DVD.

Whatever time period the film is supposed to take place in, my mouth was literally agape during the course of this movie. Let's face it, when a movie starts with a scene that features a woman in sexy lingerie being tormented by a gun-toting woman in drag, agape gobs are par for the course. As for the scene itself, we quickly learn that the whole thing is being staged for the sake of art, specifically the art of Diane (Virginia Hey), a fashion photographer.

Remember the scene in Clueless where Cher uses a computer to pick out her outfit? Okay, combine that with one of the many scenes in Automatic where a character downloads an item from their desk, and you'll get Diane's closet. Simply type in the name of the clothes you want to wear (for example, dresses and shoes), and you'll be given various pictures of yourself wearing... dresses and shoes. When you have chosen the ensemble you want to wear, a mannequin comes bursting out of the closet wearing the very get-up you selected. As you might expect, when I saw this occur, the distance between my (mouth) lips was astronomical.

While I could sit here all day and list hundreds of scenes that caused my mouth hole to become a gaping maw of wide open wonder, I'm going to stop wasting everyone's time and simply declare Obsession: A Taste for Fear to be cinematic perfection.

In order to familiarize myself with the movies I write about, I usually watch them a second time. However, since most movies, even the so-called "great ones," don't hold up on the second viewing, I, more often than not, find myself hitting the fast-forward button just to move things along. Well, that temptation didn't happen once during this Piccio Raffanini-directed masterpiece.

Oh, and don't worry, you're not alone. I have no idea who Piccio Raffanini is either. It would seem that Obsession: A Taste for Fear is the only film Piccio Raffanini ever directed. And while it might show, I'm actually glad it does... show, that is. Unless your name is Jess Franco or Joe D'Amato, I don't think people should be allowed to make more than, oh, let's say, five movies. I was going to say one movie, but some people need a little practice before they get things right.

This, of course, does not apply Piccio Raffanini, who knocks it out of the park at his first at bat, as he  has made a film filled with style, fashion, synths, lingerie, Eva Grimaldi's pillowy bee-stung lips, female bodybuilders, retro-futurism, Kid Creole (sans his Coconuts), racial diversity, live-in lesbians, cheekbones, Japanese coroners and a two-hundred foot high building made entirely out of televisions.

Okay, I made up the one about the TV skyscraper. But if Georges (Gérard Darmon), professional bondage pornographer, had his way, he would totally build that. Of course, all the televisions would be screening his bondage porn on a loop.

Anyway, I know that's a lot to take in, but there's actually more.

Just for the record: When I say, "Japanese coroners," I don't mean coroners of Japanese decent. No, I'm talking about an actual coroner from Japan. I know, Japanese coroners from Japan are allowed to exist outside of Japan, but do they usually speak Japanese to people who clearly do not speak Japanese? Well, they do in this film's universe, thanks to the automated translator, a device that translates the Japanese coroner's words into English with a female robotic voice. Trust me, it's very cool, very Blade Runner.

As I was saying, this film has more to offer than the things I just listed. Did I mention that it's gay-friendly? Sure, I listed "live-in lesbians" as one of the things this film is filled with. But going beyond that, the film is rather blasé when it comes to sexuality. Every character is either bi-sexual or, at the very least, bi-curious. Well, everyone except Dario Parisini's Lt. Arnold, a cop who seems to be from another planet. In fact, he seems so out of place, I almost expected him to begin every sentence by saying, to quote Keyrock (Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer), "Your world frightens and confuses me."

Except, instead of being an unfrozen caveman lawyer, Lt. Arnold comes across as an unshaven cop living on the edge of an edge.

In case you're wondering, the reason Lt. Arnold is brought into this frightening and confusing world is because he has to solve the murder of a fashion model. And since the model was last seen by Virginia Hey, her assistants Paul (Carlo Mucari) and Valerie (Gioia Scola), who also acts as Diane's live-in lesbian, and Kim (Carin McDonald), the murdered model's live-in lesbian, they're all are considered suspects.

When it's discovered that the model's murder was filmed, Gérard Darmon's Georges (Diane's ex-husband) is added to the suspect list, as the film bares a striking resemblance to the style of bondage trash he's known for making.

As more of her models are murdered, Diane does what any sane woman would do, she masturbates in a black beret as two scantily clad dancers perform an interpretive dance routine set to Grace Jones' cover of The Pretenders' "Private Life." That's it! Right there. If the scene I just described sounds appealing to you, you will love this movie. If it doesn't, well, I'm afraid to say it, but you ain't hooked up right.

Make sure to stick around during the closing credits, as the photo montage that accompanies them pretty much encapsulates everything I believe in. Gorgeous.

Convent of Sinners (Joe D'Amato, 1986)

Here's a wacky idea, if you don't want the nuns living in your convent to turn to the soft embraces and gentle caressing that only properly administrated lesbianism can provide, don't put them in black hold-up stockings. If you do that, you're just asking for trouble. What's that? You say the lead nun, the so-called "Mother Superior" who runs the nun joint at the centre of Joe D'Amato's Convent of Sinners, is a card carrying member of The Cunnilingus for Ladies Club? (The Cunnilingus for Ladies Club: Supplying cunt-based cunnilingus for discerning lesbians since 1569.) Well, I don't know if she's a card carrying member, but she definitely digs chicks. How can you tell? You're kidding, right? She practically throws herself at the convent's newest nun the first chance she gets. Won't that make her current girlfriend, a conniving c-nun-t who sees herself as the heir apparent, a tad upset? You better believe it will. It's this bitter conflict over the ownership of a pair of fully-engorged bee stung lips that is the meat in this nun-tastic stew. Hold up, "nun-tastic"?!? Weren't the one who just said that you were pretty much finito when it came to nunsploitation films? I would never say anything like that (especially the word "finito"). You totally did. When? In your review for Bruno Mattei's The Other Hell. Oh, well, who reads my reviews? Really? That many, eh? What can I say? I lied. Besides, if Joe D'Amato (Beyond the Darkness) makes a movie about a reluctant nun with fully-engorged bee stung lips, you bet your bottom dollar that I'm going to watch the living shit out of that movie. And like I said, this one has black hold-up stockings in almost every scene, so, in other words, I had no qualms about ignoring my no nuns allowed rule.

The reason the rule was in place in the first place was because of the fact that I don't find nuns to be attractive. Um, I don't think you're supposed to find nuns attractive, that's why they're called nuns. Even the word itself, "nun," is a turn off. Again, I think you're missing the point, nuns don't exist for the benefit of your perverted fantasies.

Then why make movies about them? I think it's an Italian thing. You see, unlike all you godless heathens out there, Italians grow up around nuns. And sometimes these nuns act badly. Which is the reason Italian filmmakers are drawn to the nunspolitation genre; they're lashing out against the very system that abused them. It sounds like you just pulled that theory out of your ass. You're right, I have no idea why anyone, let alone a bunch of Italian men, would want to make a movie about nuns. However, in the case Convent of Sinners, I'm sort of glad Joe D'Amato did, as it's probably the best the genre has to offer.

Sure, I've only seen a handful of nunsploitation films, but Convent of Sinners had more a women in prison feel to it. Instead of a shower scene, they had a mass wash basin scene. Instead of a cruel, sadistic lesbian warden, they had Mother Superior and her toadying henchnun. And instead of a... well, you get the idea. Oh, and the fact that the new nun (or in w.i.p. terms, "the new fish") constantly feels like she's a prisoner was the very appealing to me.

I don't know exactly what century this film is supposed to take place in, but I know they didn't have elastic bands or garter belts back then. Actually, they might have had garter belts, but these nuns definitely didn't have access to them. What am I babbling about? Well, what I'd like to know is, how did the nuns manage to keep their black stockings up? I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say, they held them up through the power of prayer. Quit joking around. What was holding them up? Okay, maybe they didn't use the power of prayer; even though I love the idea of keeping one's stockings up that way. But something was causing them to stay wrapped tightly to their pristine thighs, and I'm not going to rest until I find the answer.

In the meantime, we're treated to some table-based father-daughter incest. Do the white stockings Maria Susanna Simonin (Eva Grimaldi) wears on the outside represent innocence and purity, and do the black stockings she wears in the convent represent sin and wickedness? I don't know about that, but there's nothing pure about being raped by your father on the kitchen table. And, not to mention, having your mother blame you for being raped and punishing you by sending you off to become a nun at a convent run by an unruly dyke.

Did they really send her to a convent? Yep, and she's getting her habit as we speak. Is it normal for new nuns to stand on a table while the other nuns gawk at her as she gets dressed? I guess. How the hell should I know? Either way, Maria Susanna Simonin is reborn as Sister Susanna, the most pillowy-lipped nun ever to don that weird diaper-like underwear they make them wear. I dig the black hold-up stockings, but those panties are an abomination; I get a rash on my taint just thinking about them.

You would think the moment the black robe goes over Sister Susanna's head would be the last time we'll being her pert tits for quite some time. Well, think again, sister. The always horny Mother Superior (Aldina Martano) has got her eye on Sister Susanna, much to the chagrin of Sister Teresa (Karin Well), who is clearly jealous of the new nun.

As she's been shown her cell, Sister Susanna says... Hold on, cell?!? That's what the nuns call the places where they sleep. Cells are for prisoners. Couldn't they call them sleeping rooms or restrooms. Or how 'bout this, bedroom. Yeah, bedroom. I like that. It's a room that contains a bed, hence, bedroom. Anyway, after being shown where to pray and where to sleep, Sister Susanna says she'll be happy here. Happy, eh? Um, I don't think so.

You never know, she might like being a nun. I mean, check out that shirtless water boy. On top of shirtless water boys, you get free meals, and, if you happen to have pillowy lips, Mother Superior will tuck you in at night. I'm no expert when it comes to relationships, but won't Sister Teresa being upset when she finds out Mother Superior is tucking in Sister Susanna at night? How will she find out? You're obviously new around here, Sister Teresa always knows what's going on; her talent for lurking around convent hallways is second to none.

Now, I'm not sure if Don Moral (Martin Philips), the convent's father confessor, likes puffy bee-stung lips, but he's clearly taken with Sister Susanna when Mother Superior introduces him to her.

It's not like Sister Teresa needed another reason to resent Sister Susanna, but she gets one, nevertheless, when Sister Susanna gives Mother Superior and her fellow sisters an impromptu harpsichord concert. Seething with jealous rage, Sister Teresa seems powerless as she watches her influence with Mother Superior slowly slipping away. "Don't deprive me of your affection," she begs Mother Superior at one point. But it does her no good, as Mother Superior has made her choice, and that choice involves groping Sister Susanna a semi-regular basis.

Do you think Sister Teresa is going to sit idly by and watch everything she's worked for turn to shit? If you think she will, it's obvious you don't know Sister Teresa; she's what we like to call in the nun racket a "real go-getter."

You might have noticed that during the past couple scenes that Mother Superior coughs. Yeah, so, she probably just has a cold. That's true, but people who cough in the 1600s usually end up dead within a week or two. Oh, I see. How does this help Sister Teresa? Don't you see, without Mother Superior around to stick up for her, Sister Teresa can destroy Sister Susanna without having worry about the consequences. Won't the other nuns kick up a fuss? What are you kidding? Sister Teresa has slowly been currying favour with them. For example, she totally didn't punish Sister Agatha when she caught her molesting a male statue. So, what you're saying is, she's turning all the nuns against Sister Susanna? Exactly.

Don't get me wrong, Sister Susanna still has allies in the form of Don Moral and Sister Ursula (Jessica Moore). But, as we'll soon find out, they're a pretty feckless lot. In other words, Sister Susanna better watch out. And I mean, like, right now.

You know she's in trouble when Mother Superior coughs onscreen for a fourth time. Telling her that her skin is soft like marble ("fresh and beautiful"), Mother Superior enjoys Sister Susanna's body one last time, as she slowly morphs into a bedridden mess.

It starts when Teresa instructs Sister Susanna to scrub the floors, and eventually graduates to poisoning her. Don't worry, it's not a lethal dose, just enough to make her foam at that mouth, giving everyone the impression she's possessed by the Devil. Bursting into her bedroom, er, I mean, cell, Sister Teresa and her goons pussy whip Sister Susanna. They did what? They whipped the area where her pussy lives. You know, the part where... I know where a pussy is, I just never heard the expression "pussy whip" used so literally before.

Call me, I guess, sick and twisted, but liked how Eva Grimaldi's pubic hair poked out of the sides of her nun diaper as she was being pussy whipped. On top of being aesthetically pleasing, it signaled to me that Eva Grimaldi was fully committed to the role. Not that she needed to. I mean, she is, after all, raped by father in the film's opening scene. Nonetheless, I nodded ever so slightly as the nuns whipped her pussy in her cell, as I knew right then and possibly there that Eva Grimaldi is all right in my book.

After being subjected to beatings, holy water douches, exorcisms, and an extended stay in the convent's rat-infested dungeon, you would think Sister Susanna would be ready to give up. Think again. Actually, with no allies left, Sister Susanna is pretty much destitute. However, her defiance exposes the hypocrisy of the other nuns, as everyone around her so determined to protect their place in the church, that they seem to have forgotten what it means to be a Christian. And, at the end day, that's what I took away from Convent of Sinners. People, no matter how pious they pretend to be, will stop at nothing to advance their own self-centered agenda, even it means destroying a woman with fully-engorged, pillow-like, bee stung lips.