Femina ridens, AKA The Frightened Woman

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This is the first in a limited series by Pete Trbovich entitled “Pete’s Perverted Pix,” examining the kinkier side of cinema.

DIRECTED BY: Piero Schivazappa

FEATURING: Philippe Leroy, Dagmar Lassander

PLOT: A wealthy aristocrat (and psychopathic sadist) kidnaps a woman and keeps her as his personal torture toy, until she turns the tables on him.

WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHA: Even though the story is almost elementary, and 90% of the time it involves just two characters, you can’t take your eyes off the screen thanks to the psychedelic sets, ridiculous dialogue, and all-in committed performance from two very watchable actors. Far from typical Eurosleeze fare, by the end you know that The Laughing Woman has something to say, even if that message is just a harsh judgment on male-female politics dressed up in clown makeup.

COMMENTS: Every now and then, a movie throws you on first watch. The first time I saw The Laughing Woman, I dismissed it as exploitative Eurotrash aspiring to, but just missing out on, artistic redemption.  Act 1 left a sour taste in my mouth, which acts 2 and 3 tried, but failed, to wash away. Then I looked up what others thought, and to my surprise, I could hardly find one bad word that anyone has to say about this movie. But I did find reviews which breathlessly called it every kind of weird and a masterpiece. Some even drew comparisons to Death Laid an Egg.

So after a while, I gave it another try. Now that I knew where the film was ultimately going, I could appreciate little jokes I didn’t catch the first time, the mondo set pieces reminiscent of the village from TV’s “The Prisoner,” the deliberately turgid dialogue, and the sweet soundtrack tying it all together. While I still say this is a film with a nasty central idea, I have to admit that it is artistically framed and slyly dishes out a satire of sexual relations as it pulls the rug on the viewer. Perhaps the weirdest thing about this movie is how it forces you to admire it even while almost daring you to hate it.

Described variously as either an erotic thriller or a very dark comedy, the movies’ two titles (is the woman laughing, or frightened?) give you a hint that we’re in for an ambiguous time. Except for the bookending opening and closing scenes, the whole movie is focused solely on our lead characters. Dr. Sayer (Philippe Leroy) is a big shot rich guy with a powerful position in some organization, and Maria (Dagmar Lassander) is a reporter who needs to get in touch with him to research a story. They meet and immediately have an argument about the story she’s writing, but Sayer directs Maria to stop by his home anyway to pick up her research files. No sooner is she lured into his parlor to admire his art collection than the doctor drugs her drink. A Cosby-on-the-rocks knocks her out, and Maria awakes in bondage to discover that Dr. Sayer likes to kidnap women to subject them to sadomasochistic tortures. These torments include brutally hosing her down with a full-pressure fire-hose, forcing her to make love to a stuffed dummy caricature of himself, or her having to sit hungry and gagged watching him enjoy dinner. Over time, Maria edges into his trust while he confides that he’s always been a monster, has mommy issues, blah blah. She creeps into his psyche, eventually turning his own games back on him. The ending leaves us somewhere different from where we started or where we thought we were going, and we’re left trying to figure out what the hell that means.

On the surface, this film amounts to a beauty-and-the-beast story run through an S&M filter, or perhaps as “Stockholm Syndrome: A Love Story!” Be advised, our star-crossed “lovers” are of the same template as Christian Grey and Anastasia of Fifty Shades of Grey (the work that marks the downfall of western civilization), except that they make that movie look like a Sunday brunch date at the Mormon temple. Things get more intense and threatening here than in Secretary (2002), and in a way more misogynistic than your average Eurosleeze titty shaker. Indeed, there’s even less titty shaking going on here, as the eroticism is more suggested than shown graphically. As I say, things turn around later, and we get some revelation that things were not what they first appeared before the almost tacked-on ending.

OK, so what’s weird about it? Oh, the elaborate sex dungeon Dr. Sayer has, which hits like Alex from A Clockwork Orange moved out from his parents to settle in his own custom-decorated digs. And the apparent dream sequence which has Dr. Sayer walking into a giant vulva between colorful open legs, which closes after him with a set of sharp teeth. And the castle the couple visits on a date, a one very oddly appointed themed restaurant with hidden passageways and midget butlers. Or Dr. Sayer’s 1962 Amphicar Model 770, an amphibious vehicle that can either cruise the road or gaily swan across the lake. Or the midnight show of photographs of tortured women and recorded screams which awakens terrorized Maria. It’s marked by sharp shifts in tone, psychosexual dissection of our darkest impulses, and bits of surreal humor. For an indelible image, consider the scene where Sayer blasts Maria with a fire hose; she flops prone on the floor of an empty swimming pool while he takes a photograph posed standing with one foot on her back, like an African safari hunter documenting a slain lion.

The rest of the world can rave about The Laughing Woman, but I still think it misses the mark. It’s too many things at once, too mean-spirited to be funny, too silly to be erotic, and too illogical to make a satisfying thriller. But it forces me grudgingly defend its artistic merit even while I want to punch it in the nose. In actual lifestyle BDSM terms, it’s a “smart-assed masochist” and a submissive who deliberately acts bratty just to catch harsher punishment from the Top. So on second thought, I wouldn’t punch this movie in the nose, because it would probably like it too much.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…in this surreal battle of the sexes, tables will be turned, and this initially entrapped, imperilled woman will have the last laugh.”–Anton Bitel, Little White Lies (Blu-ray)

The Laughing Woman

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