1968’s Barbarella is The Wizard of Oz for the horny.
Dorothy, er, Barbarella, is assigned by the President of the Republic of Earth (who tells her it’s not necessary that she be dressed for their videoconference) to find and apprehend mad scientist Duran Duran (yes, that’s how the band got its name). Planet leaders have worked hard to achieve intergalactic peace, and Dr. Duran’s latest invention, a "positronic ray," threatens to restore evil to the universe
Barbarella, armed with a dazzling array of phallic weapons, crash-lands her spaceship on the planet Lythion. There she encounters killer dolls, a hairy man (named Mark Hand (!) and played by Tognazzi) who teaches her how to make love the old-fashioned way, a sightless angel called Pygar (Law), the cruel world of the Black Queen, and the absent-minded, absolutely libidinous inventor Dildano (!!). Screenwriter Terry Southern, a satirist who cowrote Dr. Strangelove, takes thinly-veiled jabs at sixties counterculture, mocking such fad-mottos as "Make love, not war." (For example, when Pygar says, "An angel doesn’t make love; an angel is love," Southern’s winking at you: if Pygar is love, then love is blind.) It is his knowing screenplay that elevates Barbarella beyond B-movies of the One Million Years B.C. variety.
But only slightly beyond. In some circles, the recently deceased director Roger Vadim is considered part of the French New Wave, but he’s hardly in the same class as Godard or Truffaut—Vadim has no visual or dramatic flair, only a penis. That’s why, at best, Barbarella looks like an episode of Space: 1999, and that’s a damn shame, given the film’s creative set design. The acting is marginally better than the lighting, but only because the performers seem like they’re in on the joke. Based on his other pictures, such as And God Created Woman (both versions) and Les Liaisons Dangereuses, I’d guess that Vadim’s sexual preoccupations continually overrode his cinematic instincts—which wouldn’t be so bad if, in addition to erotic, his movies were sexy. Barbarella achieves a certain level of sophisticated kink in its opening anti-gravity striptease, but the rest of the film is obviously the product of a dirty old man repressed by the decency standards of the time.
Vadim’s banal approach did not prevent Barbarella from becoming a cult classic. One can spot the film’s cultural influences in the magazine "Heavy Metal" and the ouevre of George Lucas (check out the end credits of Barbarella, for instance), among other entertainments. I can’t deny I enjoyed the picture on a base level, and there are a few hearty laughs to be had, especially in its first half.
Outside of a midnight screening, DVD is now the best way to see Barbarella.* Letterboxed at just over 2.35:1 and 16x9 enhanced (three cheers for Paramount!), the film sparkles, for the most part. The print used for the transfer was not in the best shape, but the nicks and scratches rarely distract—I only wish that the colours didn’t appear so faded. The disc retains a respectable sharpness throughout. One will notice a severe degradation in picture quality when Pygar flies—these scenes look as if they were shot through a pair of pantyhose, though I’m sure this is the fault of the effects work and not the digital authoring.
The sound is Dolby 2-channel mono but lively at that. I was surprised that Paramount didn’t do a full-blown 5.1 remaster, given their tendency to remix popular catalogue titles (such as The Ten Commandments); as it stands, the dialogue is adequately reproduced, and the cartoonish foley work comes through loud and clear. The only extra is a hilarious trailer—I can’t imagine how audiences reacted to it when it debuted.
*Despite the presence of the "PG" symbol on its cover, Paramount’s Barbarella DVD contains the uncut version previously rated "For Mature Audiences."
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