I expected some piece of fluff along the lines of "Emanuele" but this goes farther, alighting somewhere on the border of soft-core and hard porn.It's the story of Francesco Casale, a handsome young professor of literature, and his wife, Katarina Vasilissa, and his rivalry with his bed-ridden father, Raffaella Offidani. Its from a story by Alberto Moravia and it carries with it plenty of Freudian overtones. Casale's wife has left him and is having an affair with another man. The other man turns out to be his own father. Casale begs Vasilissa to occupy a room with him where they can be alone and she agrees to return to him but only if they move into his father's apartment. Something like that.Not that the plot matters. The whole movie is ridden with sex. The nudity and simulated intercourse in "Emmanuelle" were peanuts compared to this. Every male has an erection, even if it's a plastic prosthesis. Even the Chinese waiters in the restaurants pretend to drop a napkin for a chance to peek up someone's skirt. When was the last time you met a salacious Chinese waiter? The women are naked at least as often as the men, and they're good looking too. Vasilissa looks a lot like Tiger Wood's wife. And the servant, Fausta, is extremely careless about her dress. Tinto Brass never fails to take advantage to interrupt a piece of dialog by inserting a shot down the front of Fausta's blouse or Vasilissa's plump rear end as she bends over.Frontal nudity abounds. The women don't shave, so Casale is able to describe his wife's hirsuite pundendum as "the hackles of a wildcat" and "the crest of a rooster." Sometimes Brass goes to far as to give the audience a glimpse of what Casale describes as "the pale and pink seashell," borrowing the line from Stefane Mallarme, the French poet.It falls just short of hard core pornography because there are no money shots, as they're called, and no close ups of organs at work. The Washington Monument does not meet the Holland Tunnel on screen.Well, it may approach hard core but it never scores a touchdown. The story itself is always hovering in the background and isn't itself uninteresting. And the performers make an attempt at acting. Casale himself isn't bad, a sympatico figure. Vasilissa, with her generous bosom and hefty rear, might be more comfortable inside the covers of Playboy. I haven't read Moravia's story but I doubt that Offidani, as the older patient with the broken leg, is supposed to be quite as obnoxious as he's played.The sex is a problem because it's so blatant that it overwhelms a story that might be involving. It's distracting. There probably should have been more of it -- more explicit -- or just the suggestion of it. As it stands, it diverts the attention without informing the narrative. I mean, after all, as grown ups we KNOW what's going on. We don't need to be shown it. And if we ARE to be shown it, well then let's see it.

Revered among aficionados of erotic cinema , director Giovanni "Tinto" Brass remains something of an acquired taste for the rest of the movie-going mundo. From his semi-respectable beginnings with the likes of COL CUORE IN GOLA (a/k/a I AM WHAT I AM) and NEROSUBIANCO – which memorably did the rounds of stateside theaters as THE ARTFUL PENETRATION OF BARBARA before settling onto the more literal and less censor-baiting BLACK ON WHITE – to his devil may care paeans to the female rump such as COSI FAN TUTTE, TRASGREDIRE and P.O. BOX TINTO BRASS, Brass has provided considerable grist to the mill of his detractors, still legion among the critical community, who consider him little more than a hack without interest beyond the prurient. As if to cater to those who didn't have the balls to fess up to their girlie watcher's inclination, he would occasionally craft something a bit more ambitious, drawing from historical fact (SALON KITTY, CALIGULA) or literary source (LA CHIAVE, SENSO '45), temporarily placating the highbrows while already preparing an upcoming unapologetic skin fest.Not credited as such, VOYEUR was based on Alberto Moravia's latter-day novel L'UOMO CHE GUARDA, which the author had conceded for adaptation prior to his death in 1990. However, his wife and daughter, in charge of the estate, strongly opposed the book being bartered to what they considered a mere pornographer. Brass went ahead anyway and screened them the results prior to general release in hope of still securing the justification that comes with literary credit. Its absence speaks for itself. Moravia himself may have been as carefree a lecher as Brass, considering the large number of heavy breathing cinematic renditions he agreed to during his lifetime. For some reason, stunning Stefania Sandrelli – who had been in the most applauded of all Moravia movies, Bernardo Bertolucci's THE CONFORMIST – ended up shedding her wardrobe more than any other actress as CONJUGAL LOVE, DESIDERIA and THE LIE (the latter two based on the author's TIME OF DESECRATION and L'ATTENZIONE respectively) duly attest. This track record in mind, old Alberto would surely have appreciated Tinto's take on his purple prose.A literal translation of the Italian title would be "The Man Who Watches" and this description befits lead character Dodo (a solid performance by Franco Casale from Stelvio Massi's odd giallo ARABELLA, BLACK ANGEL), a Roman literary professor and virtual bystander in his own life. His apathy is at least partly to blame for the recent departure of his breathtaking spouse Silvia, not so much played as quite literally made flesh by Polish model Katarina Vasilissa, who drifts in 'n' out of his existence whilst guarding the mystery of her motives. This dreamlike narrative strand is beautifully handled but contrasts enormously with the frankly tiresome broad comedy routines set at the house of Dodo's decrepit yet still ridiculously virile old dad, played in less than convincing old age make up by Brass regular Franco Brianciaroli. His emotionally crippling lethargy a suggested product of the feared inability of filling his respected father's big shoes, Dodo bears involuntary witness to hugely pecker-ed pater (yep, Tinto has dragged out the prosthetics again !) attempting to seduce nubile housekeeper Fausta, a caricature constantly on the verge of spilling out of her half-buttoned blouse, portrayed with infectious good humor by curvaceous Cristina Garavaglia from Luigi Russo's straight-up skin flick FEAR OF SCANDAL. This brand of farce may have a long tradition in Italian cinema but it doesn't travel well. The filmmaker seems more at home when delivering the concentrated carnality of Dodo's encounters with his estranged wife in a sparsely attended cinema (showing THE KEY) and with African exchange student Pascasie, memorably portrayed by gorgeous Raffaella Offidani who left an indelible impression as the hapless prostitute ravished (and ravaged) by the title character in Stuart Gordon's underrated CASTLE FREAK. Also watch for veteran exploitation actress Martine Brochard, from Domenico Paolella's notorious STORY OF A CLOISTERED NUN and Umberto Lenzi's ramshackle giallo EYEBALL, as the lovelorn Contessa who comes to visit Dodo's dad.Though often cited by "those in the know" as quintessential Brass, my main problem with VOYEUR lies in the lack of sympathetic characters. Though apparently empowered by her decision to depart, Silvia simply turns out to have been fornicating her father in law on the side, marking her out as one of the drippiest of the director's pro-active heroines by far. Fortunately, the wall to wall skin display facilitates overlooking such narrative shortcomings, with a nudist beach orgy thrown in at the eleventh hour seemingly just to up the epidermal ante. Regular Brass contributor Massimo Di Venanzo points his camera in the right direction, shooting pretty pictures of female posteriors and the eternal city alike. Veteran composer Riz Ortolani, who will probably go to his grave forever identified with that insanely catchy tune "More" from the MONDO CANE soundtrack in spite of an estimable subsequent track record, adds a stylishly playful score, successfully soothing over the sutures brought on by jarringly shifting moods, partly recycled from his work on Brass' vastly superior PAPRIKA.

I have never seen an erotic movie like this before, nor have I ever found any to be as satisfying, even though I had to put up with English subtitles. The Tinto Brass perspective on female anatomy is quite uncommon in American porn.Instead of numerous scenes of topless skinny women with fake boobs, Tinto gives us a good look at some rather curvaceous derrières and, for variation, a few close-up views of women self stimulating some rather hairy vaginas. While breasts aren't the main focus, and they aren't the biggest boobs you've seen, they do appear natural! You should also note that male anatomy is revealed more in this film than in soft porn; there a many close up shots of male penises in female hands. Unlike hardcore, however, fellatio is not depicted, nor does the camera zoom in on penetration. I especially liked the fact that there is no semen or feces, staples of some hardcore films which disgust me.As in many erotic stories, the basic idea is to show a clear contrast between the intimacy of true love and the moral depravation of lust and wanton sex, in this case with the spotlight on voyeurism. To paraphrase the principal male character, Dodo, voyeurism is more than an idle spectator's indulgence of his/her lustful desires. It is a mutual endeavor to lay bare intimate sexual secrets in all their carnal essence and vulnerability, a revolt against a hypocritical society that represses a vital part of life out of pure ignorance. While this may be well stated, the film fails to prove this point with its numerous unrealistic scenes of people acting shamelessly in both public and private settings.Love is portrayed by the relationship between Dodo and his wife Silvia. In a playful foreplay scene, Silva dresses in front of Dodo, allowing us to get a good look at Katarina Vasilissa, a very pretty, tall blond. Her 23 years at the time of shooting stood up well to close inspection from the camera. She acted reasonably well, and the sex between her and Dodo appears intimate, however, I wasn't left with the impression that she was truly in love. This may be the reason the film only earned a rating of 6.Moral depravation is portrayed by the relationship between Dodo's father and his nurse, Fausta, whom he hires more for sexual favors than for medical treatment. This humorous part of the story is too slapstick for my taste. A forgivable flaw, however, since Tinto gives you a good feel for Christina Garavaglia's well rounded buttocks! As for the overall production, what I liked most was the Jazz music soundtrack. On the other hand, most settings were rather mundane, and I didn't like the lighting at all. It wasn't consistent from scene to scene, and all too often the characters were set against a bright background, which actually makes it harder to see them clearly.So, to sum it up, if well rounded buttocks and hairy vaginas are your thing, if you want plenty of sex without going hardcore, and if you find tall blonds attractive, than this film may be worth a look.

The story of erotic films in the 1990s is largely a very sad one. American main stream cinema seems to avoid the subject altogether, B movies are obsessed with coupling sex with violence and death, and the typical porno is as exciting as drying paint. But there are a few exceptions, most notably the films of Tinto Brass, and this film here is a prime example.What is so unique about Brass' films of this decade (and to a slightly lesser degree his 1980s films as well) is how they manage to combine eroticism with an explicitness that is close to hardcore porn, and that without ever looking seedy or overly stylish. Greatly supporting this effect are the music of Riz Ortolani and the excellent cinematography by Massimo Di Venanzo. With L'Uomo che guarda Brass seems to be telling the porno makers: "this is how a sex film can and should look like".The UK certificated version of this is about 8 minutes shorter than the original, but even that version would have no chance of an R rating in the USA. The quality of the English dubbing is a bit better than usual, but still we have to endure the traditional incomprehensible fake American accent for the leading male as in so many Italian films.