In 1969, a torrid book called Naked Came the Stranger hit the bestseller charts and joined the ranks of popular potboilers from the likes of Harold Robbins and Jacqueline Susann. 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 being performed at a sex party.

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 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. What she discovers about herself and those whose lives she touches will have a major effect on her marriage once she settles back in at home.

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 comic talent, 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 and do major damage to the story. 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 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 deservd in 2011. The restored HD transfer was a huge improvement across the board with better framing and detail, and the 1.85:1 framing looks workable throughout. It's also uncut, making this the first time it was complete for home viewing 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. Metzger appears for a full-length audio commentary (with an unbilled Ashley West), designed essentially as a sequel to the one he provided for The Private Afternoons of Pamela Mann. 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 astonishing 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 mainly from Jean Bouchéty) 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 at the time. 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 color postcard featuring a still of Darby in her Fred Astaire outfit.

In 2025, Mélusine delivered the biggest special edition to date with a UHD and Blu-ray release packaged in their usual premium black and gold hardbox design. The new scan from the 35mm camera negative (presumably built from the raw material shot on Super 16 as Metzger has discussed at length) tones down the orange tones of the previous Distribpix release and opens up the framing to a more spacious 1.66:1, which looks ideal here. Completely uncut, it's a great way to experience the film with the UHD in particular shining about as brightly as the original cinematography could allow (with the usual HDR-compatible Dolby Vision grading serving it well). The DTS-HD MA English 2.0 mono audio sounds true to the source and features optional English SDH subtitles, while the prior Metzger-West commentary has also been ported over. As for the video extras only on the Blu-ray, you also get the soft original trailer, 1m30s of radio spots, the 7m17s locations featurette, and an archival image gallery (3m45s) including a ton of great behind-the-scenes shots, while the hefty insert booklet features extensive notes by West about the major players, the film's production, and plenty of context about the adaptation process. The biggest addition here is a real holy grail, the complete alternate soft version of the film in a gorgeous scan. Clocking in just a bit longer than the usual XXX version, it's great to see here in its entirety and reason enough to upgrade by itself.

Vinegar Syndrome (Blu-ray)

Distribpix (DVD)

VCA (DVD)

Updated review on June 14, 2025