Emanuelle’s Revenge (1975)

Carlo (George Eastman) is a scumbag actor who is using his girlfriend Françoise (Patrizia Gori) like a prostitute. He uses her body to pay off gambling debts and to get parts in films until he gets bored and dumps her. Françoise is heartbroken and throws herself in front of a train. When her sister, Emanuelle (Rosemarie Lindt), finds out, she seduces Carlo and then kidnaps him. Instead of killing him, Emanuelle forces him to watch her bizarre sex games. Carlo thinks this is his fate, to watch forever until thirst (or horniness) gets the best of him. That is until Emanuelle reveals the final and most demented part of her plan of vengeance.

We enter the twisted world of director/cinematographer Joe D’Amato (Anthropophagus) once again to find that he has double-dipped us into sleazy sauce with Emanuelle’s Revenge. Psychosexual torture, anyone? As usual, D’Amato’s camerawork is sumptuous and the almost blindingly bright lighting is near perfect. While the plot is pretty clunky and painfully simple, this film still manages to entertain. And thankfully, it takes a detour into horror with a sweet hallucinatory sequence full of blood, violence, and cannibalism. Thank you, Joe.

The not-so-gentle giant, George Eastman (Rabid Dogs, Baba Yaga), plays another piece of shit frighteningly well. I really love Rosemarie Lindt’s performance as Emanuelle. Lindt manages to portray a woman whose mission of vengeance is wearing her down and is making her careless. Did someone say depressing? Wow, Patrizia Gori is fantastic as the doomed Françoise. While it is impossible to feel too much pity for someone who is throwing their life away (literally) for a destructive relationship, I couldn’t help but feel twinges of pain for her. That’s right, this softcore trash made me a little misty. What of it?

I must say that when a movie makes you feel this dirty, it has to be good. While nowhere near my favorite of Joe D’Amato’s efforts (try Death Smiled at Murder instead), Emanuelle’s Revenge definitely has its plusses. Like any Euro-sleaze worth its salt, this film has the required amount of J&B, cool cars, a brazenly funky film score, scuzzy sex scenes, and even a cameo by Italian genre cinema regular (and my hero), Luciano Rossi. As far as erotic thrillers go, you could certainly do worse.