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1975 - France Directed By: Walerian Borowczyk. Starring: Sirpa Lane, Lisbeth Hummel, Pierre Benedetti, Guy Trejan, Elisabeth Kaza, Roland Armontel, Marcel Dalio and Pascale Rivault.
Aka
La Bete
Death's Ecstasy
The Beast In Heat
Currently Availability
Currently available on US R1 DVD from Cult Epics in a 3-Disc Special Edition which is pretty much the last word on the film. This set contains both an excellent quality print of Borowczyk's uncut directors cut and an alternate "complete" version with extra dialog scenes which has been mastered from a long OOP Dutch VHS source (the only available source for this alternate cut). This set also contains a wealth of extras. For more apprehensive viewers the uncut UK R2 release from Nouveaux Pictures features a decent print of the French language print (with burnt in English subtitles) is a perfectly acceptable viewing option. An earlier single disc US R1 edition from Cult Epics whilst uncut features only an English dubbed soundtrack and is therefore arguably an inferior viewing option.
Recommended?
Borowczyk's bizarre and often shocking concoction of rampant eroticism, acidic comedy and challenging perspectives on sexual desire is certainly an acquired taste. However, for the more adventurous viewer The Beast is well worth a look, registering as a visually striking landmark in the history of European sex cinema that should find appreciation amongst both the exploitation and arthouse crowds.
Review (Contains Spoilers)
La Bete or as it is better known to English speaking viewers The Beast remains by far the most infamous, controversial and well known feature film directed by sometimes revered Polish filmmaker Walerian Borowczyk. After earning himself a reputation as a leading animator Borowczyk moved onto directing feature films such as Goto, Island Of Love (1968) and Blanche to a generally positive critical response. However, it would be in 1974 that Borowczyk encountered his first taste of true commercial success with his highly risqué and often explicitly sexually themed anthology film Immoral Tales which caused a stir in both arthouse and exploitation circles. While some critics openly questioned whether Immoral Tales was legitimate of legitimate artistic merit or merely a brazen, exploitative excuse to exhibit graphic soft-core sex beneath the guise of arty trappings, most were unanimous in praising Borowczyk’s masterful ability to commit startling and challenging visual motifs to film. Unfortunately for Borowczyk critical goodwill towards his work would be obliterated by the furore surrounding his next major work.
A mooted fifth chapter in the aforementioned Immoral Tales would see Borowczyk metaphorically tackle the cinematic sexual taboo of bestiality via an extended, outrageous vignette in which Finnish exploitation starlet Sirpa Lane whilst out walking in the woods is waylaid and raped by a hulking fairytale beast. Although this outrageous sketch would not make it into the final cut of Immoral Tales, Borowczyk would be so taken with the notion that he promptly expanded this scene and its underlying themes of bestial human sexual desires into the full length feature today known as The Beast. Upon its release the films outrageous, show stopping sexual set-piece involving Lane and the titular beast plus other contentious sexual imagery would shock the sensibilities of many critics who had previously praised Borowczyk’s previous works causing most to round on the previously favoured Pole and dismiss him as a pretentious and dirty minded pornographer. Adding the Borowczyk’s woes censorship boards the world over also took issue with the film and it was widely censored and banned in many countries including (rather predictably) here in the UK where The Beast was famously refused a certificate for a proposed British cinema release in 1978.
Following this controversy Borowczyk’s once promising career would sink like the proverbial stone. As the late seventies wore on into the eighties Borowczyk drifted into the world of low budget European sex films with his 1978 effort Behind Convent Walls – one of many erotically charged entries into the vast an largely formulaic “nunsploitation” cycle of the seventies – offering an indication of what was to come. Borowczyk’s flagging career would arguably reach its nadir in 1987 by which time he was reduced to directing Emmanuelle 5 starring model turned B-list actress Monique Gabrielle. His work on that project would lead to clashes with the producers who deemed his proposed ideas too abstract and arty for the kind of soft focus sex feature they had in mind and after distancing himself from the resultant film Borowczyk would gradually withdraw from the film industry, hanging up his camera for good in the early nineties.
As for the film which most believe broke his career? The Beast would continue to languish in various truncated home video incarnations throughout the eighties and nineties usually going under its (irrelevant) alternate title of Death’s Ecstasy. Happily however i>The Beast would gain increasing cult reverence amongst aficionado’s of extreme and offbeat European cinema and would eventually resurface when a complete French language version of the film enjoyed a limited yet generally successful tour of British arthouse cinemas in 2001 to a largely positive retrospective critical reaction and obvious joy from champions of Borowczyk much maligned output. Soon after The Beast would enjoy a full scale revival following uncut DVD releases in both the UK and the United States and now enjoys its rightful status as a landmark exercise in bizarre and challenging European cinematic eroticism.
The Beast opens with French aristocrat Pierre de l’Esperance (Trejan) desperately attempting to orchestrate an arranged marriage between his reclusive, oddball son Mathurin (Benedetti) and wealthy young British heiress Lucy Broadhurst (Hummel) which if successful will secure the ongoing financial prosperity of his family. However, the planned marriage is threatened by both the mysterious apparent refusal of the religious authorities to bless the potential union – despite a visiting priest (Armontel) lending the family his support – and the meddling of Mathurin’s eccentric but highly loving and protective uncle the Duc De Balo (Dalio).
The arrival of Lucy and her protective aunt Virginia (Kaza) at the Chateau de l’Esperance proves to be the catalyst for a horrific and tragic series of events. Upon their induction to the household Lucy and her aunt are struck by the odd and secretive demeanor of their French hosts which culminates in Mathurin erupting into a crazed fit of psychotic rage during dinner. That night Lucy –feverish with sexual desire – has a disturbing yet oddly erotic dream concerning the de l’Esperance family’s famous ancestor Romilda (Lane). In this dream Romilda journeys into the wood that neighbours the Chateau de l’Esperance out of concern for a wayward lamb only to be waylaid and raped by a monstrous beast that lurks there. Upon awaking Lucy discovers that the events she relived in her dream are far from a mere sexual fantasy and are set to have a deeply shocking bearing on both an impending tragedy and the horrific familial secret that is revealed in its aftermath.
Of course any discussion of The Beast tends – perhaps understandably – to centre around the show-stopping ongoing flashback sequence in which Sirpa Lane’s corseted, powdered wig wearing Romilda runs off into the woods for her impromptu sexual encounter with the beast of the title. Even viewed now it must be said that this an unforgettably outrageous slice of cinematic shock which is likely to leave even the most jaded of viewers jaws hit the floor on an initial viewing. After dismembering a lamb the beast chases after the petrified Romilda with amorous intentions as mind. Cinematic taboo is unapologetically breached as Romilda’s clothes are conveniently shed or torn away during the chase causing the beast’s gigantic prosthetic erection to grow in size and spew torrents of semen as he surveys the quality of the goods on offer. Eventually the beast captures and bloodily rapes Romilda who in a bad taste twist soon begins to enjoy the monsters attentions. In a heightened state of sexual arousal Romilda takes charge of their sexual coupling and uses every conceivable trick (hands, breasts, feet, mouth, you name it) to literally fuck the poor beast to death whilst being practically drowned in semen. With her hairy lover dead from over exertion Romilda hides the corpse with leaves and flees.
Looking back on the film over thirty years later it is not especially difficult to see how this graphic spectacle alone led to The Beast being both heavily cut and banned by glib censors the world over upon its original release. However, watching this sequence now it is quite obvious from both it’s willfully OTT execution and the jaunty, maddeningly repetitive musical accompaniment that the scene is ultimately a comically charged one at heart. The wages of time have if anything amplified the comic tones with the scenes of the beast chasing Lane resembling as some other critics have previously remarked something akin to a Benny Hill sketch. The comic effect is enhanced by the appearance of the beast itself which is quite obviously nothing more than a man in an unconvincing furry suit.
Yet whilst this eye opening sequence is undoubtedly the nucleus around which the film is structured both in thematic and narrative terms, to critique or dismiss The Beast on the basis of this scene alone is to do Borowczyk’s altogether rather remarkable piece of eclectic European cinema a great disservice. For all its rampant sexual excess The Beast is actually a rather clever and acidic comedy of manners characterised by Borowczyk’s acerbic depiction of the self-centred, prim, uptight upper classes. Indeed the portrayal of the films aristocratic protagonists is generally an unflattering one. The de l’Esperance family fronted by Mathurin’s unscrupulous father Pierre prove to be a grasping lot whose motivations scarcely run beyond their desperate endeavours to secure their own financial stability. The outwardly jovial hospitality to the visiting Broadhurst’s feels totally forced and the internal conflict and mutual contempt within the family is never more than thinly veiled. Meanwhile the visiting priest enjoys an uncomfortable, almost paedophiliac closeness with his two adolescent altar boys and is more than happy to oblige the de l’Esperance family in return to their “charitable” donations to both him and the church. The cast for their part tend to be rather variable with some performances particularly that of Danish model turned actress Lisbeth Hummel feeling rather stilted although this may be the result of both English and French dialog having been post synched following production. However, some of the performances are good especially those of both Pierre Benedetti as the ultimately rather sympathetic Mathurin and French acting veteran Guy Trejan as his coldly urbane yet altogether rotten father Pierre. In addition Marcel Dalio lends a scene-stealing, comic turn as Mathurin’s eccentric, wheelchair bound uncle the Duc De Balo.
Ultimately however, any semblance of social commentary takes a backseat to Borowczyk’s central theme namely the juxtaposition and clearly drawn parallel between both animal and human sexual instinct. This is rather queasily established from the outset as The Beast opens with graphic, gynaecologically detailed footage of horses copulating whilst Mathurin overlooks their mating with keen enthusiasm. Upon her arrival at the chateau a short time after Lucy enthusiastically takes Polaroid shots of said horses and is later shown indulging in a spot of illicit masturbation over the resulting photographs in the privacy of her bedroom. Other hints are somewhat more subtle as artefacts concerning the famous Romilda adorn the chateau and a pivotal scene in which Pierre bathes and shaves Mathurin registers as a symbolic yet futile attempt to remove the beast from the man.
It does not take long for Borowczyk’s rather frank yet challenging perspectives to make themselves plain. As Lucy feverishly pleasures herself with the aid of a rose bloom and Mathurin’s nymphomaniac sister Clarisse cavorts in bed with the families black manservant its clear that Borowczyk is suggesting that these upper class ladies for all their prim and proper demeanour are ultimately as animalistic in their sexual desire as any man or beast and will take their pleasure however they can get it so to speak. With Sirpa Lane’s legendary woodland encounter the films unique sexual worldview finally clicks fully into place in its own heavy handed but nonetheless novel fashion. When it comes to sex both man and beast are driven by the same brutish animalistic desires and that quality is what women at heart really find alluring. Despite its clear viewpoint it is still fairly hard to deny that more straightforward titillation is also a partial motivation as Borowczyk dwells at length over numerous scenes which at times border on the hardcore. It must be said though that in all fairness Borowczyk’s depictions of female masturbation, brief but upfront interracial sex and of course Lane’s sticky encounter in the woods whilst for the most part comedic are arousing in their own skewed sort of way. In that respect The Beast enjoys the rare distinction of being one of the few works within the European sex film cannon to achieve any sense of genuine eroticism.
While admirers, apologists and detractors will continue to debate the merits or lack thereof one point almost certainly not up for any sort of dispute is that The Beast is seldom less than impressive in a visual sense. Indeed from a purely aesthetic standpoint The Beast is nothing short of a triumph thanks to both excellent cinematography and its directors eye for a striking visual. The Chateau de l’Esperance with its numerous unusual, eye-catching artefacts, row upon row of rustic bookshelves and antique décor resembles a relic from a bygone age. Elsewhere the beautifully lit and strikingly framed woodland scenes create an evocative, almost poetically lyrical sense of foreboding with makes for quite a memorable juxtaposition with the brazenly vulgar and outrageous events unfolding onscreen.
So in conclusion is The Beast, as Borowczyk would like us to believe, a darkly comic insight into the bestial nature of human sexual desire? Or as the films many detractors would say merely an overly arty and pretentious exercise in dirty minded pornography? There is certainly plentiful room for debate and ultimately it is not unfair to say that even the staunchest admirer of Borowczyk’s work would be deluding themselves by failing to concede that his motivations behind The Beast are not at least partially exploitative. Personally however, this reviewer feels that although certain aspects of The Beast are deliberately formulated in an attempt to shock, as a whole Borowczyk has crafted a potent dark comedy of sexual mores which is challenging whilst at the same time surprisingly accessible and characterised by some truly startling imagery which if nothing else confirms its directors status as a master cinematic visualist. With its startlingly graphic metaphorical depiction of sexual closeness between man and beast The Beast will not be to all tastes, but for more adventurous aficionado’s of extreme European cinema it is well worth a look. With The Beast Walerian Borowczyk has crafted a film which – with tongue planted ever so firmly in cheek – directly and audaciously tackles a genuine cinematic taboo and for that reason alone The Beast represents a significant landmark within the field of European sex cinema.
Also Try… Immoral Tales / Behind Convent Walls / Blanche (1971, Walerian Borowczyk) / Goto, Island Of Love / Caligula / Salo or the 120 Days Of Sodom / The Canterbury Tales (1972, Pier Paolo Pasolini) / Bluebeard (1972, Edward Dmytryk) / The Coming Of Sin (1978, Jose Ramon Larraz).
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