Review: Salon Kitty

SS guy Wallenberg (Helmut Berger) uses brothel owner Madam Kitty (Ingrid Thulin) and her girls (who aren’t really her girls, they are women recruited and trained by the SS) to help spy on his officers in the hopes of eradicating any traitors with loose lips. He also moves them to a specially organised brothel, and has the brothel bugged without client nor sex worker’s knowledge. Teresa Ann Savoy plays one such hooker who falls for a soldier (John Steiner), whilst John Ireland turns up as an Ex-pat American frequenter of Kitty’s place.

 

Before collaborating with Bob Guccione and Gore Vidal on the infamous “Caligula”, Tinto Brass unleashed this 1976 forerunner to the ‘Nazisploitation’ sub-genre of exploitation cinema. Scripted by the trio of Ennio De Concini, Maria Pia Fusco, and Brass, it’s just short of being worth a recommendation from me. It’s watchable as a curio, not bad as sexploitation, but clearly destined to have a very, very small audience.

 

It’s not exactly a good film in the traditional sense, it’s not trying to be either. It becomes abundantly clear early on that Brass has no serious or artistic aspirations here beyond making seriously glossy trash. He’s into two things: Cool imagery and fucking. It’s very, very silly nonsense, but good-looking nonsense thanks largely to the lovely production design by the always classy Ken Adam (“Dr. No”, “Goldfinger”, “Dr. Strangelove”, “You Only Live Twice”, “The Spy Who Loved Me”), of all people. How silly is it? There’s an orgy sequence that is choreographed like a Busby-Berkeley routine, for chrissakes. Also, we get male full-frontal nudity whilst skipping rope, and Helmut Berger’s silver Nazi clobber towards the end of the film looks like something the late David Bowie might’ve cooked up on a coke binge. So yes, it’s fucking absurd. In the middle of it all, though, is a genuinely lively and entertaining performance by Ingrid Thulin, as the Marlene Dietrich of the Berlin whorin’ business. It’s a great, showy part for her, and although her singing is dubbed, she’s undeniably the best thing in the film. By contrast, Helmut Berger is pretty constipated. As for veteran American character actor John Ireland, he’s dubbed and entirely wasted in a role from his declining years where apparently he failed to decline any role.

 

This could’ve been all kinds of wrong and offensive (“The Night Porter”, anyone?), and thankfully it doesn’t end up that way. I really didn’t see the need to be subjected to pigs being butchered and bled, but other than that, this is far too silly to be offensive. What bothered me more than anything here, was that it’s awfully long for this kind of thing. It’s not that anything here was particularly boring, but it’s just too much length for something of this sort.

 

Certainly not dull or lacking in originality or audaciousness, this is exactly the film Tinto Brass wanted to make. With the first penis shot three minutes in and the second in quick succession, it’s clear Tinto wasn’t making “Citizen Kane”. He might’ve wanted to make us think that’s what he was aiming for, hence employing Ken Adam to make it all look wonderful. However, it’s really a softcore titty movie with controversial Nazi imagery for an extra kink. Its ultimate aims are titillation and perhaps causing a bit of controversy. Compare that to say, “Caligula” which had a perfect lead performance by Malcolm McDowell and potential for a serious historical story…gone begging because (whoever was ultimately responsible for directing that film) it was solely focussed on the debauchery and depravity aspects, becoming rather one-note very quickly. Due to the corny story, there’s much less opportunity for serious art in this one to begin with, and Brass knows it. It might be more of a precursor to the Nazisploitation subgenre than an actual entrant, but make no mistake, Brass cares more about sex and visuals here than making art. I mean, come on. Yes it’s a WWII film, but it’s chosen to focus on the sleaziest, silliest possible idea for a WWII film. This isn’t “The Diary of Anne Frank” or “Schindler’s List”. It’s about Nazis fucking hookers. There’s nothing lofty here, and it makes you realise that Brass was perhaps just as a guilty for the over-indulgence of “Caligula” as was Guccione. I always assumed it was the Penthouse guy who messed with that film, but Brass is seemingly just as interested in porn (albeit softcore here) as Guccione. This is intentional trash (though I bet someone will try to intellectualise it), with a somewhat cheeky tone for the most part. It’s watchable stuff that, although not hardcore, probably pushes the boundaries for 1970s softcore. It’s not a bad film, and Ingrid Thulin sure is terrific. I wouldn’t call this classy trash, but Thulin certainly does try to lend it some class. I won’t recommend this film as such, but it’s got its sleazy charms.

 

Rating: C+