Sinfonía erótica (1980)

It's rather funny to think that despite the majority of his work being considered “unfilmable” by many, the Marquis de Sade's influence looms large in film. The most famous example would obviously be Pier Paolo Pasolini's adaptation of The 120 Days of Sodom, Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom (1975), but there have been a multitude of films featuring a strong Sadean influence even without being adaptations of Sade's writings. Salò may be the first thing that comes to mind for many whenever Sade-based films are mentioned, but the filmmaker most commonly associated with Sade would have to be Jess Franco. Beginning with Justine (1968) and going all the way through to his digital era with Flowers of Perversion (2005), the divine Marquis provided Franco with material for numerous films. Philosophy in the Bedroom was Franco's go-to Sade text, with Franco altering the material for celluloid while always retaining the spirit of the author in films like Eugenie... the Story of Her Journey into Perversion (1969) and Plaisir à trois (1973) and even injecting it into films with no direct Sade connections like Countess Perverse (1973) or The Sexual Story of O (1984). Upon his return to Spain in the early 80's, Franco would once again turn to the Sadean realm with Sinfonía erótica, an outstanding work and and standout film among Franco's Sade-inspired films and in Franco's filmography as a whole.

Following a long stint in an asylum, Martine de Bressac (Lina Romay) returns to her large estate shocked to discover her husband, the Marquis de Bressac, has taken in a young man, Flor, as his lover. The two also bring home Norma, a young nun the two discovered unconscious on the grounds of the estate as their plaything. With her mental state already incredibly delicate, the Marquis and Flor cruelly torment the sexually frustrated Martine, flaunting their indulgences while the presence of Norma complicates matters for both Martine and Flor resulting in fatal scheming.

Franco's films have been described as “dreamlike” to the point of redundancy but if any film earns that descriptor it's Sinfonía erótica (Erotic Symphony). The film follows a fairly linear narrative yet the events unfold in such a tranquil fashion beginning with Martine's return from the asylum, which has the delirious tone of being dropped right in the middle of a scene with the rest of the film drifting as if it was taking place under water. The “symphony” in the title couldn't have been more appropriate as the film is very much a visual symphony, the soundtrack consisting of Franz Liszt compositions with contributions from Franco himself and frequent collaborator Daniel White blaring overtop Franco's period-set, opium-induced dreamscape. The film could be considered an early, experimental long form music video, but if there's one filmmaker Franco possibly took influence from on Sinfonía erótica it's Walerian Borowczyk. With its period-setting, diffused, soft-focus, and deliberately blown-out hazy visuals, there are moments in the film that wouldn't feel out of place in a Borowczyk film from the late 70's or early 80's like Behind Convent Walls (1978) or The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Miss Osbourne (1981), yet all the while remaining unmistakably Franco, thanks in no small part to Lina Romay. Romay's extraordinary work in the film on-par with not only her own work in Lorna the Exorcist (1974) and Doriana Gray (1976) but also Soledad Miranda in Eugenie de Sade (1970) and Emma Cohen in The Other Side of the Mirror (1973).

The film is interesting when it comes to the Sade influence as it's not based on one writing but instead takes influences from two particular Sade stories, Justine being the first. In Sade's infamous tale, the Bressac name belongs to the Count de Bressac, a homosexual libertine Justine becomes employed to who orders Justine to murder his aunt, the Marquise de Bressac for the inheritance. In Franco's film adaptation of Justine, the Bressac's are husband and wife, though Justine receives the same orders in the film and just as in Sade's original, Justine and the Marquise have grown fond of each other. A certain turn of events late in the film recall Franco's adaptation of Sade's Eugenie de Franval, Eugenie de Sade, the inevitable mounting tragedy that permeates most of the stories making up The Crimes of Love, push the film further in the realm of operatic tragedy while working in tandem with the Liszt music, which again makes the title “Sinfonía erótica” a perfect namesake as Franco essentially invented his own genre, the “erotic symphony” genre, specifically for this one film. Even with the Sade connections, Sinfonía erótica still manages to feel like no other film in the Franco canon while also being the kind of film that would put a Franco naysayer in their place. A shining example of Franco's visualist brilliance and a jewel in Lina Romay's crown as well.