In 1969, a torrid book called Naked Came the Stranger hit the bestseller charts and joined the ranks of tawdry potboilers from the likes of Harold Robbins and Sidney Sheldon. 
However, the difference here is that the entire book turned out to be a gag; the author, "Penelope Ashe," was a pseudonym concoted by a group of writers for Newsday who each took a turn writing one chapter. Flash forward six years, when veteran softcore director Radley Metzger was looking for a second project to follow up the original story, The Private Afternoons of Pamela Mann, which proved to be his first completely hardcore venture under the name "Henry Paris." Returning to the literary roots of his European erotica films, Metzger latched onto the novelized hoax and tweaked it into another of his urbane, visually stylish studies in the human libido. Fortunately it also turned out to be one of his funniest films, a bubbly and fast-paced trifle that plays like Ernst Lubitsch after a hit of Ecstasy.
Radio hosts and film fanatics Gillian (Rains) and William Blake (Richards) enjoy a happy (albeit quirky) marriage, except for one catch-- he's having an affair with Phyllis (Stuart), their toothy assistant. Gillian even eavesdrops on one of their afternoon love sessions (one of the film's comic highlights), and afterwards at a bizarre costume party during which she meets several old acquaintances, the noble wife decides to do a little sexual sampling herself including romps with a few old school friends.
Each of Gillian's affairs appropriately divides the film like a book chapter, the most memorable being her encounter with Score's Gerald Grant which cleverly plays out like a silent film. Henry Paris regular Alan Marlow also turns up for a daring, real life sequence in which he's pleasured by Rains on a double decker bus as they take a sunny tour of New York. The story moves quickly, and while the sex scenes are probably the mildest of the Paris canon, they still generate some palpable heat. Rains in particular gets to finally break loose in a leading role and proves herself to be a delightful comedienne, often looking quizically at the camera for maximum effect.
VCA's previous Henry Paris titles on DVD were at least as complete as their VHS conterparts (and in one case even longer), but unfortunately their Naked Came the Stranger runs almost eleven minutes shorter than the tape at a scant 72 minutes. The removal of this footage makes no sense; apart from a comical, fully clothed S&M gag in an office, the cuts appear to be random (including an entire sex scene between Phyllis and William that explains the whole "love bunny" thing). Too bad, really, as the image quality is a better transfer from the same source tape with more robust color. Extras include a video intro and commentary from Jim Holliday, who puts the film in its historical context and offers some anecdotes involving '70s porn; he's joined by an adult film actress (whose name is mumbled too low to be audible) who doesn't contribute much aside from admiring the fact that she's never had sex with anyone in the cast. Other extras are devoted mainly to the VHS cover art and a gallery of alternate shots, though the connection between these photo sessions and the movie itself is tenuous at best.
Luckily the film then passed over along with the other Henry Paris titles to Distribpix, who outfitted this sparkling gem with all the bells and whistles it deserves. The restored HD transfer is a huge improvement across the board with much more vivid colors and far richer black levels, and the 1.85:1 framing looks attractive throughout. It's also uncut, making this the first time it's been c
omplete since the early VHS days. Interestingly, the original mono track is here along with an excellent Dolby Digital 5.1 version. No reverb hack job, this mix was made possible thanks to the separate mag tracks of the dialogue, music, and effects, and it's a surprisingly spacious yet tasteful aural alternative well worth sampling.
Again Metzger appears for a full-length audio commentary, designed essentially as a sequel to the one he provided for The Private Afternoons of Pamela Mann (with the same pseudonymous moderator). He talks about working with producer Richard Gordon (whose production Secrets of Sex appears in the opening sex), the increasingly elaborate nature of this production given the larger cast and varied settings, the ins and outs of adult theater chains like the Pussycat, shooting sex on a public bus, working with Darby a second time, the state of Jamie Gillis' apartment after his death, and the controversial nature of the source novel. Also as with the Pamela Mann release, the DVD includes an a
stonishing subtitled fact track loaded with trivia about every conceivable aspect of the film. Virtually every snippet of music is identified (including the usual terrific KPM library tracks) along with composer info, plus plenty of nuggets about the cast, crew, novel, and locations, as well as hilarious tangents along the way. For example, you'll find out the weird connection between Levi Richards and Troma Films and tidbits like "In India, hopscotch is called Stapu, in Poland it's Klasy, and in NYC they call it Potsy."
A six-minute reel of deleted scenes compiles some extra snippets used to pad out the soft version of the film, whose elements couldn't be found. Sourced from a VHS copy, they're mostly extensions of park romps and dialogue scenes, though the first one with Rains doing a Death Wish joke is pretty priceless. A seven-minute locations featurette shows the NYC and Long Island locales then and now mostly via split screen, while a "Soft vs. Hard" segment spends 14 minutes showing a comparison between the alternate takes and angles used for both versions. The set rounds out with a restoration featurette about the HD transfers, three trailers (the soft one for this film and the hard ones for Marschino Cherry and Pamela Mann), three minutes of radio spots for this film and Maraschino Cherry, a G-rated slideshow of production stills, and a gallery of ephemera including posters, newspaper reviews, and magazine articles. The hefty and impressive illustrated liner notes booklet covers the book hoax in depth along with a breakdown of the production and crew, a detailed rundown of the music chosen for the soundtrack, and an analysis of the film including its kinship with Diogenes and F. Scott Fitzgerald. The first pressing also includes a fetching color postcard featuring a still of Darby in her Fred Astaire outfit.
Though director Radley Metzger tap danced around the issue of actual sex in such films as Score and The Image, he didn't make the full transition to hardcore until 1974's The Private Afternoons of Pamela Mann. Shot cheaply in 16mm, the film nevertheless exhibits the visual polish and skillful eye of its director throughout as it imaginatively uses New York locales as a sort of giant board game upon which the characters act out some of their wildest fantasies. Loaded with witty one liners and some nice movie in-jokes, Pamela Mann (which shares its heroine’s name with a real-life grindhouse figure) speeds by quickly during its brief running time. A knowledge of porn's social history will probably help, particularly concerning a running gag with a great punchline in which a female hippie repeatedly approaches Pamela and polls her on current news issues. As with most '70s classics, the acting and storyline are comparable to many mainstream titles being produced at the time; in fact, with a few alterations this script could make a very bubbly romantic comedy. However, Pamela will be of most interest to viewers familiar with Metzger, for whom this marks an interesting mid-career transition from the languid, European gloss of his earlier films to a snappier, more audacious editing style which directly engages the viewer in the unspooling of its plot. This direction really began with The Lickerish Quartet, which turns the film vs. reality approach into a beguiling series of Chinese boxes, but here he addresses the physical act of filming, with its shutterbug private eyes producing the interlocking series of visuals we witness throughout the film until the deliberately stagy, elegant final shot. Though not as intricate and continental as Misty Beethoven or as literate as Naked Came the Stranger, this first outing from Metzger's "Henry Paris" period remains one of his strongest efforts overall and serves its purpose as both a steamy adult film and an accomplished work of cinematic art.
Released during the heyday of porno chic, Pamela Mann was released in both hard and softcore versions. The former remains the most frequently seen and was released on VHS and DVD first by VCA, though all of their versions lost a significant, eight minute sequence in which Pamela acts out a kidnap/rape fantasy in a garage with Rains and her chauffeur, Jamie Gillis, with the latter holding her down at gunpoint. Though really consensual, this scene was apparently too much in the wake of NOW porn demonstrations and still carries a definite charge. Fragments of the sequence still turned up again during the long montage at the end of the film in the cut version, rendered the finale completely senseless. As with its other Henry Paris titles, VCA recycled its one-inch video master for their DVD, taken from a battered print with a dated, lackluster appearance with numerous flaws and inconsistencies in the appearance of what was meant to be a smooth, glittery film with lush colors. The strange white borders at the top and bottom periphery which plague all VCA transfers of Misty Beethoven are also present here, too, depending on your TV's overscan setting. As usual VCA listed plenty of extra goodies on the back, though only a few pertain to the film itself. Best of the bunch is a feature length commentary with Edwards and the very active Veronica Hart. They make for lively company, though Edwards frequently mentions his lagging memory and insists over and over that he's retired from the business. Nevertheless they do get in a few fun facts, such as a casual mention that Spelvin recently worked as Hart's babysitter! Other bonuses include reproductions of the original B&W pressbook ad slicks, the VCA tape box art (which is nearly identical), and a gallery of stills (not frame grabs, thankfully), as well as a three minute video appraisal by Jim Holliday. The other extras are more extraneous, such as a "production stills" gallery from some other unnamed project and promos for other VCA titles. Oddly, the full garage scene was included in full (albeit looking very rough) in the compilation documentary The World of Henry Paris, which was briefly available on VHS and appeared occasionally on adult cable channels.
A better-looking flat letterboxed version appeared much later on DVD in Europe from Alpha France (under the odd title of Furie Porno), paired up with a gorgeous transfer of Richard Robinson’s Marriage and Other Four Letter Words. Both are in French only, however, and while this Pamela Mann contains the garage assault in full, it omits huge chunks of comedic dialogue that presumably wouldn’t carry over for a French audience; thus, it’s still highly incomplete, just in a different way.
Fortunately the Henry Paris library eventually fell into the more capable hands at Distribpix, who resuscitated this film with a new hi-def transfer of both the explicit and soft versions. Image quality is drastically improved across the board; the framing is now correct (no more ugly white flaring around the borders), colors are back to their original intensity and values, and detail is much more heightened and impressive. (And unlike their release of Maraschino Cherry, there’s thankfully no logo watermarking anywhere.) The sound quality also kills the VCA version, which was tinny and muffled in comparison. Best of all, this marks the first time the film has been available completely uncut on DVD anywhere in the world, with the garage scene and all of the dialogue completely intact. This alone would be enough to justify the release, but the two-disc set contains a staggering amount of well-researched extras that raise the bar miles higher for ‘70s adult classics.
Metzger’s recent relaxation about doing audio commentaries on releases like Camille 2000 and Score carries over here with a enjoyable and very thorough chat with adult film historian “Benson Hurst” with topics ranging from the director’s segue into hardcore territory due to commercial demands to his switch to shooting on the streets of Manhattan after jetting around Europe in his previous films. (Appropriately, both methods would collide with delirious results two films later with his masterpiece in the genre and still the best adult film of all time, The Opening of Misty Beethoven.) He also reveals a great deal about almost every actor in the film including how they were hired, their colorful and very different backgrounds, and their easy working methods, which wouldn’t exactly carry over as smoothly to future Paris films. Perhaps even more impressive from a scholarly perspective is an optional music subtitle track, similar to the trivia tracks on Shameless’ horror DVD releases, which dissects the film’s music soundtrack in staggering detail. Metzger had used library music (also referred to as stock or royalty-free music) in Score and The Image as well, and his use of preexisting music in all of his Henry Paris titles is exceptional. Using yellow subtitles, this track discusses each selection of music in the film (with only one still unidentified, that sweeping piece used during the final scene) and rattles off huge amounts of trivia about each composer, the track’s significance and library album location, and much, much more.
Two extensive video interview are included with both Edwards and Spelvin, with the former getting 40 minutes to cover a lot of the ground from his earlier VCA commentaries along with a few new comments about working with some of the biggest names both in front of and behind the camera during the porno chic heyday. He’s always a fun storyteller, and it’s great to have him back on a DVD again. Spelvin fans will definitely enjoy her new video chat (allocated to the second disc), which begins with her early stage and screen career (including Hello, Dolly!), her first film role doing new scenes for the Metzger-released The Twilight Girls, and a tour of highlights through her adult career and her life afterwards (which is also covered in her excellent autobiography). Disc two also includes the aforementioned HD transfer of the film’s hilarious “soft” version, which opens with Bourbon talking about this special “bicentennial” edition of the film and features her superimposed over the more graphic footage talking at ridiculous length about America’s fondness for the word “big” and the importance of marriage, sometimes while wearing absurd costumes like a football uniform. The whole approach manages to make the film far more avant garde and absurdist than before, with the talking box technique inadvertently coming off like a precursor to Peter Greenaway’s Paintbox experiments years later. Other extras include the original (very long) theatrical trailer, a 2011 reissue video trailer, galleries of promo stills / production shots and promotional material, a seven-minute video featurette about the film’s locations (some of which are still recognizable), a “Metzger’s Manhattan” piece about how locations were chosen and filmed in his Paris titles, and a fascinating “Cutting Floor” piece containing some amusing outtakes from Bourbon and Stevens’ park encounter and lengthy snippets of a deleted sequence with Bourbon role playing as a 42nd Street hooker and getting involved in a hotel room tryst with Leo and Linda Lovemore (who are otherwise only fleetingly visible in the final film). The hefty insert material includes a nice Bourbon postcard, a small flier for the upcoming Music of Henry Paris deluxe CD release (finally!), and extensive liner notes by Benson Hurst, Ian Culmell, and Lawrence Cohen about the production, soundtrack creation, and cinematic significance of the film; each are very informative and make for highly recommended reading. A tantalizing insert also promotes a CD release of music from the five Henry Paris films, which has been a long time coming. The only possible negative thing one could say about the release is that it isn’t on Blu-Ray, but hopefully by the time Distribpix gets to the biggest Paris titles coming up, that strategy will change. Easily one of the most essential cult film releases of the year, this superb release sets a new gold standard for films whose place in the exploitation history books is only now beginning to be fully recognized.
Color, 1976, 84 mins. / Directed by Henry Paris (Radley Metzger) / Starring Constance Money, Jamie Gillis, Jacqueline Beaudant, Terri Hall, Calvin Culver, Ras Kean, Gloria Leonard, Janet Baldwin / Written by Jake Barnes / Music by George Craig / Cinematography by Robert Rochester Format: DVD - VCA (MSRP $39.98) / Full Frame / Dolby Digital Mono While all of adult film auteur Radley Metzger's soft and hardcore films bear his unmistakable stamp of elegance, only The Opening of Misty While cruising the red light district of Paris, bestselling author and sex expert Seymour Love (Jamie Gillis) finds his adult film viewing (at a theater showing the French classic, Pussy Talk!) interrupted by a crass hooker, Misty Beethoven (Constance Money), who offers to take out for a quick, good time for fifty dollars. Seymour agrees and begins to quiz the enterprising but unappealing Misty about her lack of experience. Striking up a bet with his partner Geraldine As most lit students will recognize from the above description, The Opening of Misty Beethoven is actually a thinly disguised The box art for this DVD announces it contains previously censored material and never before seen footage, though this isn't exactly true. The large oversize VHS edition from VCA contained the entire menage a trois between Money, Leonard, and Kean, one of the most memorable kinky set pieces in the annals of '70s porn, which was later heavily censored for the regular sell-through edition. The DVD reinstates the footage (whose penetration close ups were performed by Culver, better known as gay porn Color, 1977, 76 mins. / Directed by Henry Paris (Radley Metzger) / Starring Annette Haven, C.J. Laing, Sharon Mitchell, Wade Nichols, Jamie Gillis, Constance Money, Susan McBain, Bobby Astyr Format: DVD - VCA (MSRP $39.98) / Full Frame / Dolby Digital Mono
At a posh New York restaurant, renowned sex expert Barbara Broadcast (Annette Haven) is interviewed by adventurous reporter Robert (C.J. Laing). However, people don't just eat food here, as the waitstaff delivers a variety of sexual services straight off the menu. Barbara's interview is constantly disrupted by autograph requests, sexual favors, and visits from old friends, while the clientele dallies on the tables, enjoys unorthodox salad dressing, and watches the maitre'd exact a most perverse revenge against waitresses who drop the restaurant's expensive plates. Eventually Roberta decides to get in on the action by traipsing off to the kitchen, where she enjoys a steamy session with a dishwasher (Wade Nichols). That night she and Barbara meet up again at a disco, where they engage in some public displays with the libidinous Curley (Jamie Gillis) and listen to his story involving a disciplinarian approach to a Protestant American Princess (Constance Money). The opening half hour of Barbara Broadcast is a delirious delight, as the elegant restaurant setting provides a perfectly Bunuelian backdrop for a variety of sexual activities. Unfortunately the film has nowhere to go from there, with the story simply tacking on one encounter after another but only barely bothering to explain them. The kitchen sequence is by far the most intense moment of the film, and all of the performers (particularly Jennifer Like many '70s "Henry Paris" titles, Barbara 
Beethoven broke the XXX mold and earned respected as a well made film which happened to contain actual sex. Thanks to a witty script, deft perforamances (yes, everyone here can act), striking sets, and continental locales, this is one for the time capsule.
(terrific one shot wonder Jacqueline Beaudant), Seymour wagers he can turn Misty into the toast of the town as the revered Golden Rod Girl at the next high society party thrown by vain magazine publisher Lawrence Layman (Ras Kean) and his wife (Gloria Leonard). Seymour, Geraldine, and Misty jet off to New York, where he instructs his pupil in the arts of pleasure and sends her out to build her reputation with a variety of men, including a mostly gay art dealer played by Score's Calvin Culver. As Misty's fame spreads, Seymour's arrogance conceals a growing attraction to his ugly duckling.. but can he still have her?
retelling of George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion, also musicalized as My Fair Lady. Metzger had already experimented with sexy literary twists on Carmen and Camille, but this proved to be his most radical and critically successful attempt yet. The impeccable soundtrack of Euro lounge and pop music (culled from library tracks) and tastefully chosen locations (art galleries, opera theaters) establish just the right touch of playfulness, though the sex itself remains graphic and raunchy enough to satisfy the raincoat crowd. In fact, the satirical tone allows Metzger to get away with slipping in an amazing number of taboo images involving senior citizens, strap ons, and cross dressing, among others.
actor Casey Donovan) and, VCA's restoration claims notwithstanding, appears to be taken from the same video master they've been going back to for years. The colors are punchier than usual, but given the fact that the film was originally shot in 16mm and blown up to 35mm before being slightly cropped for video, this is about as good as one could expect. Metzger himself owns the original materials for Misty, so hopefully a sharper, more carefully framed edition will turn up someday. The cropping isn't as damaging or claustrophobic when the DVD is viewed without overscan on a DVD-Rom drive, allowing more peripheral information on the sides to creep through. The disc includes some nifty extras, the most notable being a running feature commentary by Gillis and Leonard. Obviously old pals, the two dish out an amazing number of anecdotes about the film, many of them involving the notoriously uncooperative Money. Leonard also drops a couple of bombshells, including the revelation that she slept with Metzger (once) and a reference to the actual name of this flim's cinematographer, who won an Oscar a few months later (look it up on the IMDB!). A couple of factual goofs aside (Leonard insists Calvin Culver and Casey Donovan weren't the same person, and Gillis erroneously refers to this as his first film for Metzger), the commentary makes for an enlightening and joyous experience. Other goodies include a gallery of promotional stills for this film and Barbara Broadcast, a three minute reflection by Jim Holliday, and some promotional filler for VCA products. Sadly, the softcore version of Misty Beethoven has long been out of circulation and isn't included here -- a shame, really, as it includes numerous additional dialogue scenes and alternate takes which would have made for a fascinating comparison.
Having established himself as a successful XXX director under the name Henry Paris, Radley Metzger quickly followed up his groundbreaking The Opening of Misty Beethoven the following year with Barbara Broadcast, another attempt to fuse lavish visuals and sharp wit with down and dirty sex scenes. This time any semblance of a plot is purely accidental, as the entire film revolves entirely around a goofy concept and manages to turn grindhouse filmmaking into pure surrealism. 
Grey lookalike Laing) seem to be putting their all into their roles. Mildly diverting fun and unmistakably Metzger, this isn't Misty Beethoven, but then how could it be?
Broadcast has been chopped to pieces over the years due to various censorship laws governing the home video industry. First The Private Afternoons of Pamela Mann lost an entire sequence in a car garage involving Jamie Gillis due to the presence of a prop gun, and then this film turned up on home video from VCA (running a scant 69 minutes!) missing the entire final seven minutes of the film, again featuring Gillis. In fact this chilly S&M sequence was an excised scene from Misty Beethoven, which provoked Money into a succesful lawsuit for additional payment. The DVD restores this rarely seen finale, presented by Gillis as a flashback, though a few close up shots are still missing (legally a film can't mix hardcore with physical restraints in the same scene). The kitchen scene also contains the same softened opening from the earlier VCA release; originally Laing relieved herself on camera, but most versions subtitute Nichols' reaction shots instead combined with some vivid sound effects. Therefore the disc still comes up a bit short compared to the original running time, but it's still far more complete than anything we've had before. As with the Misty Beethoven disc, Gillis and Leonard return for an audio commentary, though their specific recollections are rather limited due to the fact that Leonard had nothing to do with the film and Gillis merely had a glorified cameo. Instead they offer more of an overview of the whole '70s adult film scene, Metzger's filmmaking techniques, and the histories behind the various performers.
