Sklavin für einen Sommer

Several of my fellow reviewers here, some of which I have known for years and usually always concur with, have referred to "The Alcove" as a beautiful and stylishly eroticist period-piece, AND as one of writer/director Joe D'Amato's best works. Alas, I can't say I agree this time. I found "The Alcove" dull and dumb, and with such an overload of lesbian sequences that it becomes monotonous quite fast.

Set in the mid-1930s, Al Cliver depicts a soldier/writer - and 'slash' swindler - who brings home a beautiful and submissive African Princess (= sex slave) and offers her to his wife Alexandra. The nymphomaniac Alexandra was already feasting her sexual lusts on her hubby's cute secretary Velma during his many trips away from home, and thus she certainly doesn't mind a fresh and sensual new bed partner! Velma is jealous and sees evil in Zerbal, but Alexandra gradually becomes obsessed with her. Velma is right, though, as Zerbal's sole mission is to get revenge for the abusive, racist, and disrespectful way she has been treated.

Okay, here's how I see it... Our pervy pal Joe D'Amato had the privilege of working with three of the most sensationally luscious women of the Italian exploitation industry: Laura Gemser, Lili Carati, and Annie Belle. He simply had to get maximum benefit out of that. Every smallest and most banal situation somehow turns into a lesbian orgy, and evidently there's always someone peeping up a skirt or through a keyhole. Towards the end, D'Amato even turns his cast into an amateur porno-movie gang, complete with nuns' outfits and savage rape by the drooling gardener. What's so stylish or erotic about that?

An English soldier (Cliver) returns home from the Zulu war with the daughter of a tribal king (Gemser) as his slave (a gift that he was given for "saving" the kings life). The spoils of war, ya know? While he's been gone, his wife has been having an affair with the female housekeeper (Belle). Not at all pleased with being a slave, the Ebony princess notices the mistress of the house engaging in a quick bit of foreplay with the housekeeper and plots her revenge starting with the seduction of the mistress. Jealousy spreads like wildfire and before you know it, she has turned the household into a lustful frenzy of sex and hatred. I can't give away too much more or it would ruin the story, but there are plenty of little twists along the way. Speaking of twists, this film is actually far more twisted than it sounds. One of the more disturbing moments being a sequence about the filming of an inquisition-themed porno that turns into the sadistic rape of a lesbian / virgin by the filthy and none too bright gardener. Sporting tons of full-frontal nudity, simulated lesbian and straight sex and some hard-core (as seen in an old stag film), this has the sleazy goods to go along with the D.H. Lawrence-ish setting and atmosphere, and is definitely recommended for fans of such.

The Alcove pairs Joe D'Amato with Laura Gemser and sees both of these cult icons at their sordid and sleazy best! Joe D'Amato made a hell of a lot of sleaze films; and while I do consider myself a fan of his, it has to be said that a large proportion of his output is rather rubbish...but not so with this film. The Alcove is as good a porn flick as it is a character study, and that's what puts this film at the very top of the director's filmography - by not focusing on the sex, when we do get to see it - it means so much more. The plot line is actually really good, too. We focus on a country house where the house Mistress, Alessandra, is sharing a sordid affair with the secretary Wilma while her husband is away fighting Zulus. He returns from the war bearing gifts for the women; and he also brings home a slave girl named Zerbal, whom he was given for saving the life of her father. The slave soon starts to get used to life in the house and decides that she doesn't want to be the slave anymore. After noticing the two women having sex, Zerbal decides to worm her way into the Mistress' affections...

This film absolutely could not have been made today and the reason for that is the inherent racism running throughout it. Laura Gemser's character gets all manner of vicious insults thrown at her throughout; though it doesn't really make for uncomfortable viewing given Gemser's obvious beauty. Her role here is somewhat different from the strong Emanuelle character we're more used to seeing her as; although the role does become more like what we're used to as the film progresses. The film becomes an expose of sexual desires between five different people all pulling different ways and it makes for fascinating viewing; the fact that sixty percent of the main cast is made up of beautiful women doesn't do it any harm either! The jewel in the crown is Gemser, of course, but her co-stars Lilli Carati and Annie Belle are very easy on the eyes too! Being a D'Amato film you can expect plenty of sex and he doesn't disappoint. There's not quite as much quantity compared to some of his other opus', but this is more than made up for in quality as the sex scenes are very well filmed; particularly those between Lilli Carati and Laura Gemser. Overall, this really is an excellent film that I would class as a must see for anyone who enjoys sleazy Euro-porn. It's a rare one, but finding it is very much worth the effort!

Following a successful campaign in Africa, soldier Elio De Silveris (Al Cliver) returns home to his wife Alessandra (Lilli Carati) bearing all manner of exotic souvenirs, the most unusual being Zerbal (Laura Gemser), an Abyssinian princess presented to him as a slave in return for saving the king's life.

At first Allesandra is hostile to Zerbal, as is Elio's sexy secretary Wilma (Annie Bell), with whom Allesandra has been having a lesbian affair in her husband's absence; but when ownership of Zerbal is transferred to Allessandra (in a strange ritual that entails plenty of licking), the lusty wife's attitude does a 180 degree turn and she takes the dusky maiden for her lover, putting Wilma's nose severely out of joint. Soon, scheming Zerbal becomes the domineering force in the household.

This mid-career effort from prolific Italian sleaze merchant Joe D'amato sees the seasoned exploitation director tentatively entering Tinto Brass territory, delivering plenty of 1930s period charm, an atmosphere of constant sexual tension, loads of lush cinematography, and, of course, oodles of soft-focus, soft-core coupling with the emphasis on lesbianism. No stranger to capturing smut on camera, D'amato masterfully handles the steamy action, concentrating his attention on the sensuality of the lovemaking, although one can sense that the director is yearning to go further, his camera permanently on the prowl for even the slightest glimpse of snatch.

Eventually, Joe just can't help himself and sneaks in some genuine hardcore filth and old school exploitation during the film's final act: the graphic sex arrives in the form of a (genuine?) vintage stag flick screened by Elio, who intends to raise some much needed cash by making similar films, with his three women as his stars. Amazingly, the ladies agree to the project, but when the camera begins to roll, in true D'amato style, events turn decidedly nasty: Wilma is bound and abused by Allesandra and Zerbal, and raped by Elio's eager gardener Pepe (who has been planning to tend to her bush ever since spying it in the garden). After the ordeal is over, an understandably upset Wilma vows to make them pay for what they have done to her.

From an exploitation fan's point of view, this lurid rape/revenge scenario is a great way to end matters, and narrowly saves The Alcove from being just another vapid mid-eighties piece of Euro-erotica. Not essential D'amato, but not entirely worthless either, I rate The Alcove a reasonable 5.5 out of 10, rounded up to 6 for IMDb.

Joe D'Amato's 1985 film, "L'alcova," weaves a tale that combines the allure of eroticism with the complexities of human relationships against a backdrop of historical intrigue. Set in the aftermath of World War II, the narrative unfolds within the confines of a luxurious, yet eerie, mansion, where the lines between power, lust, and control blur seamlessly.

The story centers on Elio, a soldier returning from the war with an unexpected companion, a beautiful African woman named Zerbal. This unconventional addition to his household sparks a volatile dynamic with his wife, Alessandra, who is both fascinated and threatened by Zerbal's presence. The tension is palpable as these characters navigate their desires and ambitions within the opulent, but increasingly claustrophobic, walls of their home.

D'Amato's direction is characterized by his signature blend of explicit eroticism and dramatic tension. The film does not shy away from graphic content, which is portrayed with a raw, unapologetic lens. This explicitness, while integral to the story, often feels gratuitous and detracts from the potential for deeper emotional and psychological exploration. The erotic scenes, rather than enhancing the narrative, sometimes seem to exist for their own sake, serving more as a distraction than a complement to the storyline.

The performances are a mixed bag. Al Cliver, as Elio, brings a rugged charm to his role, convincingly portraying a man torn between his past experiences and his present desires. Lilli Carati, as Alessandra, delivers a performance that oscillates between vulnerability and steely resolve, capturing the essence of a woman grappling with her own identity and the shifting dynamics of her marriage. Laura Gemser's portrayal of Zerbal is both enigmatic and compelling, though her character is often reduced to a mere object of desire, which limits the scope of her role.

Visually, "L'alcova" is a feast for the eyes. The cinematography, with its rich color palette and meticulous attention to period detail, creates an atmosphere that is both lavish and suffocating. The mansion, almost a character in itself, exudes a sense of decadence and decay, mirroring the tumultuous relationships of its inhabitants. The use of lighting and shadow plays a significant role in accentuating the film's themes of secrecy and revelation.

The narrative, however, struggles to maintain coherence. The pacing is uneven, with moments of intense drama interspersed with languid, almost stagnant scenes. This inconsistency hampers the overall flow of the film, making it challenging to stay fully engaged. Moreover, the dialogue often feels stilted and overly theatrical, which detracts from the authenticity of the characters' interactions.

Ultimately, "L'alcova" is a film that tantalizes with its promise of erotic intrigue and psychological complexity but falls short of delivering a truly satisfying experience. It is a visual and sensory journey that is marred by narrative and character development flaws. The film's ambition to intertwine historical context with personal drama is commendable, yet it never fully realizes its potential.