Though not the very first French hardcore production – chronologically Sylvie Meyer's fellatio in François Jouffa's LA BONZESSE and the silly yet explicit antics of the late if by no means great Lucien Hustaix (LES JOUISSEUSES, LES TRIPOTEUSES, etc.) paved the way – Claude Mulot's box office blast LE SEXE QUI PARLE holds the historical position of starting point for the Continental carnal industry, just like Gerard Damiano's 1972 DEEP THROAT does for its US counterpart. Not so coincidentally, given the latter film's worldwide notoriety even in parts of the world where it had not yet been seen, there are strong thematic similarities between the two with Linda's misplaced joy buzzer supplanted by Joëlle's gossipy gash !
Grand Prize winner at the first (and only) International Porn Film Festival in Paris, August 1975, it's a nostalgic reminder of what Euro porn could have been if it weren't for upcoming stringent government interference which effectively nipped the genre in the bud by placing tremendous taxes on production, distribution and display of graphic erotica, sentencing these (initially ambitious) movies to the ghetto of backstreet theaters and restricted budgets. As with the subsequent and now more highly regarded MES NUITS AVEC , SEXE served as a breeding ground for several of the most impressive film-making talents the French fornication film factory was to spawn. Claude Mulot, who sadly drowned at the Côte d'Azur in 1986, came to 'core after his feverish "film fantastique" LA ROSE ECORCHEE sank without a trace – at least until its recent DVD resurgence – and borrowed its main character's moniker ("Frédéric Lansac") for explicit endeavors, even though he had made his directorial debut with a naughty little number named SEXYRELLA back in '68. Producer and uncredited co-creator Francis Leroi, who passed away from cancer in 2002, never felt the need for anonymity, occasional recourse to the "Jim Clack" pseudonym notwithstanding. Didier Philippe-Gérard commenced as production assistant here prior to taking the reins as "Michel Barny". Editor Gérard Kikoïne would emerge as the industry's most incendiary anarchist until he chose to disown his entire catalog of fleshy delights in a startling turnabout and DoP Roger Fellous gained considerable recognition for his awesome achievements on flicks as wide-ranging as Jean-François Davy's EXHIBITION movies and mild-mannered Max Pécas' few forays into full penetration territory, FELICIA and LUXURE.
Where THROAT has sunk to the level of outdated artifact, SEXE still holds up beautifully over three decades later however. Though equally founded on a dirty joke premise, Mulot realized he would have to flesh out the material if he were to sustain critical credibility. As a result, this works very much as a "real movie", bearing resemblance to Radley Metzger's '70s classics – incidentally, the film is referenced on a Paris theater marquee at the start of MISTY BEETHOVEN – in its casual, Utopian omnipresence of sex at every turn, supplanting its potential shock value with a refreshing matter-of-fact-ness. Beleaguered heroine Joëlle (lovely "Pénélope Lamour" a/k/a Place Pigalle peep show worker Claudine Giret, who balked at – and was therefore doubled for – actual penetration) works at an advertising agency and is married to up 'n' coming architect Eric, well-played by legit stage thespian Jean-Louis Philippe (billed as "Nils Hortzs") who handled the lead in both Jean Rollin's mesmerizing LEVRES DE SANG and its surreptitiously shot explicit equivalent SUCE-MOI, VAMPIRE. Their nicely organized life is rudely disrupted when Joëlle's nether parts loudly voice their discontent at a posh social gathering, setting in motion a whole chain of trials and tribulations for both husband and wife. Gathering his spouse's unique condition is psychosomatic, Eric calls on the services of media darling pop psychologist Martine Dodd (a deliciously witty turn by the adorably accented Ellen Earl) but winds up coaxed into carnality by the vindictive vag instead, following which the not so good doctor fills in the rest of the world on the evening news prompting a mad pursuit of poor Joëlle.
Intrepid journalist Richard Sadler (Vicky Messica, another legit character actor who worked steadily until his death in '98, atoning for his cinematic sins by appearing in Jean Delannoy's pious BERNADETTE) tracks down her whereabouts to lascivious aunt Barbara (the indomitable Sylvia Bourdon of EXHIBITION 2 infamy) who has no qualms about selling off her nearest and dearest if the price happens to be right. Fleeing to her childhood abode, the place offers a string of flashback memories which aid in enlightening the girl's current crooked situation. The undeniable upside for fans is that young Joëlle is literally embodied by the bountiful Béatrice Harnois, FELICIA herself, displaying erotic energy decidedly lacking – unintentionally, this actually makes sense plot-wise – in the far more restrained Giret. This is where the movie kicks into high gear sexually, busy Bee sacrificing her maidenhead to a Pinocchio doll (think about it ) when her equally inexperienced boyfriend proves unfit for the task, seducing a teacher notoriously nicknamed "Big Dick" (the aptly appended Claude Dupont) along with fellow student and one shot wonder Françoise Vandelle and even pleasuring the priest (Pierre Tourneur) in the confessional ! With some good wedlock whoopee as the ultimate solution, the turnaround conclusion – Eric "inherits" his wife's infection as his dick starts mouthing off – sets up the sequel TRIPLES INTRODUCTIONS which would benefit from the enthusiastic participation of sweet France Lomay, whose shining moment came courtesy of Fred Lincoln's terrific THAT'S OUTRAGEOUS. As you might imagine though, the original still reigns supreme, a tribute to the talent and dedication of these pioneering pornographers who would too soon be beaten into submission by the powers that be.
Grand Prize winner at the first (and only) International Porn Film Festival in Paris, August 1975, it's a nostalgic reminder of what Euro porn could have been if it weren't for upcoming stringent government interference which effectively nipped the genre in the bud by placing tremendous taxes on production, distribution and display of graphic erotica, sentencing these (initially ambitious) movies to the ghetto of backstreet theaters and restricted budgets. As with the subsequent and now more highly regarded MES NUITS AVEC , SEXE served as a breeding ground for several of the most impressive film-making talents the French fornication film factory was to spawn. Claude Mulot, who sadly drowned at the Côte d'Azur in 1986, came to 'core after his feverish "film fantastique" LA ROSE ECORCHEE sank without a trace – at least until its recent DVD resurgence – and borrowed its main character's moniker ("Frédéric Lansac") for explicit endeavors, even though he had made his directorial debut with a naughty little number named SEXYRELLA back in '68. Producer and uncredited co-creator Francis Leroi, who passed away from cancer in 2002, never felt the need for anonymity, occasional recourse to the "Jim Clack" pseudonym notwithstanding. Didier Philippe-Gérard commenced as production assistant here prior to taking the reins as "Michel Barny". Editor Gérard Kikoïne would emerge as the industry's most incendiary anarchist until he chose to disown his entire catalog of fleshy delights in a startling turnabout and DoP Roger Fellous gained considerable recognition for his awesome achievements on flicks as wide-ranging as Jean-François Davy's EXHIBITION movies and mild-mannered Max Pécas' few forays into full penetration territory, FELICIA and LUXURE.
Where THROAT has sunk to the level of outdated artifact, SEXE still holds up beautifully over three decades later however. Though equally founded on a dirty joke premise, Mulot realized he would have to flesh out the material if he were to sustain critical credibility. As a result, this works very much as a "real movie", bearing resemblance to Radley Metzger's '70s classics – incidentally, the film is referenced on a Paris theater marquee at the start of MISTY BEETHOVEN – in its casual, Utopian omnipresence of sex at every turn, supplanting its potential shock value with a refreshing matter-of-fact-ness. Beleaguered heroine Joëlle (lovely "Pénélope Lamour" a/k/a Place Pigalle peep show worker Claudine Giret, who balked at – and was therefore doubled for – actual penetration) works at an advertising agency and is married to up 'n' coming architect Eric, well-played by legit stage thespian Jean-Louis Philippe (billed as "Nils Hortzs") who handled the lead in both Jean Rollin's mesmerizing LEVRES DE SANG and its surreptitiously shot explicit equivalent SUCE-MOI, VAMPIRE. Their nicely organized life is rudely disrupted when Joëlle's nether parts loudly voice their discontent at a posh social gathering, setting in motion a whole chain of trials and tribulations for both husband and wife. Gathering his spouse's unique condition is psychosomatic, Eric calls on the services of media darling pop psychologist Martine Dodd (a deliciously witty turn by the adorably accented Ellen Earl) but winds up coaxed into carnality by the vindictive vag instead, following which the not so good doctor fills in the rest of the world on the evening news prompting a mad pursuit of poor Joëlle.
Intrepid journalist Richard Sadler (Vicky Messica, another legit character actor who worked steadily until his death in '98, atoning for his cinematic sins by appearing in Jean Delannoy's pious BERNADETTE) tracks down her whereabouts to lascivious aunt Barbara (the indomitable Sylvia Bourdon of EXHIBITION 2 infamy) who has no qualms about selling off her nearest and dearest if the price happens to be right. Fleeing to her childhood abode, the place offers a string of flashback memories which aid in enlightening the girl's current crooked situation. The undeniable upside for fans is that young Joëlle is literally embodied by the bountiful Béatrice Harnois, FELICIA herself, displaying erotic energy decidedly lacking – unintentionally, this actually makes sense plot-wise – in the far more restrained Giret. This is where the movie kicks into high gear sexually, busy Bee sacrificing her maidenhead to a Pinocchio doll (think about it ) when her equally inexperienced boyfriend proves unfit for the task, seducing a teacher notoriously nicknamed "Big Dick" (the aptly appended Claude Dupont) along with fellow student and one shot wonder Françoise Vandelle and even pleasuring the priest (Pierre Tourneur) in the confessional ! With some good wedlock whoopee as the ultimate solution, the turnaround conclusion – Eric "inherits" his wife's infection as his dick starts mouthing off – sets up the sequel TRIPLES INTRODUCTIONS which would benefit from the enthusiastic participation of sweet France Lomay, whose shining moment came courtesy of Fred Lincoln's terrific THAT'S OUTRAGEOUS. As you might imagine though, the original still reigns supreme, a tribute to the talent and dedication of these pioneering pornographers who would too soon be beaten into submission by the powers that be.