Erotissimo

A nice satire about the cultural waves dominating a time. Very French, seductive more for furniture and house, proposing as gift, a small role of Serge Gainsbourg and the effort of Annie Girardot to give coherence to a story too large.

Sure, the entertainment, the commercial promoting sex in different forms. But, in same measure, the levels of war between a CEO and the IRS or the great portrait of Bernard offering fair image of a generation.

A nice comedy, withsome nostalgia air. Unfortunately, not a British satire. But French one can seems be enough.

This effortful farce is more or less the equivalent of English-language "generation gap" comedies of the time like "Prudence and the Pill," except being French it's not quite so creakily old-fogeyish in approaching youth culture...well, at least not stylistically. And while a Hollywood or Brit exercise of this type back then would have just smirked at the idea of sexiness, here we get some fleeting nudity (not from any of the name actors), even if this remains the kind of sex comedy that is mostly about people failing to "get any."

Annie Girardot plays a pampered housewife married to Jean Yanne's CEO, living in a house that is the last word in trendy ultra-moderne art and furnishings. Attuned to the sexed-up advertising of the era (and eventually also to its straight-up smut, like "dirty magazines"), she begins to worry she's lost her relevance, and is being taken to granted by her perpetually preoccupied spouse. This basically triggers a feature-film's worth of costume changes for the star, who tries every mod outfit (and wig) the production could get its hands on, while mugging and posing in frequent TV-commercial-like montages, all in an alleged attempt to recapture hubby's comatose carnal attentions.

That's the level "Erotissimo" stays on--exploiting while also satirizing the era's garishly hip design and product trends. The film gets that stuff right, with a lot of dynamic editing, showy compositions and good use of some fun pop tracks. But staying on that frenetic shallow level of silliness without any larger point, or much real wit, makes it wearisome after a while. It's one of those films from the era whose groovy trappings and high energy would make it look great in excerpt, but which wears thin pretty fast in its cartoonish totality. Serge Gainsbourg appears briefly, along with other, lesser-remembered hip French media personalities of the time.