Noticed a total lack of nudity on the blog recently.
Hope this makes up for it.
Emanuelle’s Daughter Queen of Sados (AKA Black Emmanouella, Emanuelle the Seductress, Emanuelle's Daughter, Emanuelle: Queen Bitch, Emanuelle: Queen of Sados, 1979)
Dir: Ilias Mylonakos (Yup,THE Ilias Mylonakos you lucky people!)
Cast: Laura Gemser, Pantelis Agelopou, Haris Tryfonas, Gabriele Tinti, Vagelis Vartan, Nadia Neri, Livia Russo and Gordon Mitchell.
cramp by the look of it.
Imagine this.....Laura Gemser in a nude film NOT 'directed' by Joe D'Amato but still playing the role she became famous (sort of) for.....so how does Ilias Mylonakos' vision compare to that of the god-like D'Amato?
Let's begin with a quick synopsis (yes, there is a plot....this time focusing on revenge and murder as well as 70's breasts and hairy arses).
Gladys Emanuelle (dusky beautie and your dads first Nat West Laura Gemser) hires a hit-man to kill her abusive (and incredibly kinky) husband, the devil bearded and mightily man-titted Victor alongside his two evil business partners, Robert and Ilona after suffering years of abuse, weird sexual rituals and rough bum love.
Even on Sundays.
Trying everything from putting bromide in his tea to ringing Jeremy Kyle our heroine has no other option than to hire the mysterious hitman Mario (Tryfonas AKA Harris Stevens AKA my real dad sporting the biggest - and brightest - pair of polyester flares ever committed to celluloid) to take him out for the agreed price of £37.80 and a quick shag.
|"Suckle mah man tits!"|
Mario comes thru' and kills the dirty blighter in a plane crash meaning that our olive skinned heroine inherits not only his successful orange growing empire and high waist trouser collection but also gains custody of his virginal teenage daughter Livia (dirty bird Russo).
Emanuelle finally free from all this death, dodgy deals and sex sees her new found freedom as a great opportunity to not only have some girl bonding time but also a good excuse to get away from all suspicious coppers skulking about her house so decides to book the pair on a package holiday to Greece.
Has she not seen Island of Death?
It would appear that the hunky hitman has begun to feel that his big wad (of cash) wasn't big enough.
He wants more.
And not just money.
You see, he's taken a shine to young Livia's hymen for one thing.
The filthy rotter.
Turning up at the depressingly off season holiday camp with some tacky gifts in tow (an arse plug for mum and a bag of sweets for the wean) Mario soon ingratiates himself with the normally shy Livia, much to her step mum's disgust.
And as Gemser enthusiasts know, if our heroines disgusted it must be bad.
The swarthy, handbagged faced lothario tho' is enjoying the awkwardness of the whole situation lifting Livia onto his lap and rubbing coconut oil into her smooth, milky virgin flesh with his big sweaty sausage fingers before inviting her swimming at a local secluded beach.
Emanuelle is raging which means that she storms out of the chalet looking for someone to stick it in her.
|"Wahey Janet! I'm spunking buckets!" cried Peter Duncan as he announced the Blue Peter appeal total.|
Staying out way past her bedtime in order to catch Aubrey's fantastic display of table top disco-dancing (to the Village People's “YMCA” - unfortunately overdubbed with mind numbing bouzouki music on the DVD release) in the nite spot from Bloody Moon, Livia's romantic night comes to an end with her bashful beau walking her home along the sands before stealing a goodnight kiss.
But unbeknown to the young lovers Mario is watching from behind a bush, angrily masturbating as he stares silently at her admittedly peach arse as it jiggles in the moonlight.
But if that wasn't enough, lurking behind a slightly bigger bush further up the beach are Robert and Ilona, trying to uncover the truth behind Victor's death while also planning to get Livia to side with them.
All this because it appears that she's the true heir to her late father's fortune.
And you thought it was all about the shagging.
Anyway, back to the, ahem, plot.
Whilst all this sinister subterfuge is going on, Emanuelle decides the best course of action is to meet up with Robert for a wee bit of bollock tickling (watch him sweat! Touch his warts!) before arguing about orange growing with a stubborn factory foreman (see him growl!) before finally going shopping for pants.
Edible ones of course.
This includes a naked-cooking fetishist he met on the flight out and Emanuelle's wonky faced, cod eyed and bulldog faced 'assistant'.
Obviously having some taste and a slight grasp of foreplay techniques, he began this sordid little liaison by first forcing her head down a toilet (no doubt in an attempt to straighten it up or at the very least wipe of some of the industrial make-up she was caked in) before cheekily forcing it up her (massive doughnut like) shitter.
And they say chivalry's dead.
Feeling on a roll (and after first wiping his shit encrusted cock on the squinty woman's curtains) Mario heads down to the beach and after a half-hearted attempt to generate some tension with a chase, he finally catches up with Livia and tosses her into a muddy puddle before stripping her naked and violently breaking down the gates to her lady garden and putting it in her.
Will Livia survive the dirty puddle or ever walk again?
Will our heroines new technique for battery farming oranges prove a success?
Frankly, who cares.
Not me that's for sure.
But unfortunately unlike Tryfonas and his overworked penis the story is reed thin and the characters seldom rise (snigger) above the lightweight plot, many of them coming and going throughout the movie with no other motivation than to stick something in somebody or get something put in them.
|Livia Russo: I guess it's OK now seeing as she's probably old enough to be your mum. Or dead.|
Lacklustre, insipid and uninspired, the only things in it's favour is the movies historic importance as one of the first films made to cash in on the success of Bitto Albertini's Black Emanuelle series (a series that grew from strength to strength under the milky eyes of Joe D'Amato and Bruno Mattei, taking in cannibals and horses along the way) and the fact that it's marginally more watchable than Mylonakos' other foray in the series, the frankly mad as pants Divine Emanuelle (AKA Love Camp) with it's free love cult and floating overdubbed Gemser.
Oh yes, and it does give us a chance to admire Haris Tryfonas fantastic collection of 70's fashions, from garishly vomit inducing leisure wear to tiny cock bothering Speedo's.
Still doesn't stop it from being half cocked and rubbish tho'.
A bit like your dad.