Dirty Love

Always ready to make his own versions (some would say "rip-offs") of the big hits of Hollywood, Joe D'Amato decided this time to capitalize on the success of "Dirty Dancing" (Emile Ardolino, 1987), a teen musical romance that had nothing of "dirty" in its content. With D'Amato, at least, the word makes some sense, not only because of the full frontal nudity of the protagonist, but also due to some sordid aspects of the story. The good is that the director, as usual, is quite original in his "imitation", telling a different and more interesting story.

The plot has Valentine Demy playing Terry Jones, a young woman who travels to Richmond, Virginia, to enter in a dance school, with hopes of a successful career. However, she soon stumbles with obstacles, that goes from unscrupulous men wanting to take advantage of her body to an obese lesbian dance teacher who also has second intentions over her. Saved by an architect named Robert from two drag queens (!!) who wanted to rape her, our cunning heroine believes to have found the luck in love, only to be disappointed again when her savior turns out to be a dirty exploiter of women, who involves Terry in a scheme of prostitution and political blackmail. Nothing to do with the family tone of its Hollywoodian sourcers of inspiration, right?

Being this a typical late '80s production of Joe D'Amato (this time not shot in New Orleans), some of the director's manias may annoy the average viewer. The main of them is the use of padding scenes, something that can be considered a trademark of his cinema, specially from the mid-'80s onward. The 92 minutes running time are reached with the help of protracted sequences featuring Terry dancing, riding a bike or doing aerobic exercises. In the worst moment of the film, she is invited by a friend to attend a horrendous male strip show, and D'Amato makes the scene last for an eternity, when it could be totally eliminated, or shortened, at least, to improve the pacing. One of the strippers is hired by Terry for a night of sex, but the poor guy fails in satisfying her. The reason? He is homossexual. But, unlike Luciana Ottaviani, in "Top Model", who bravely helped the sexually confused male protagonist to get straight, our heroine here does nothing to lift the moral of the frustrated stripper, and even demands her money back! Let's call her anti-heroine. In the second most embarrassing moment, Terry is shown dancing with a friend in a hotel hallway. A chamberlain sees the action and starts dancing too. The scene is so unbelievable ridiculous that I needed to repeat it to believe in my eyes.

If the "normal" viewer may find the movie boring and underdeveloped, the fans of the director will surely appreciate it, as it is visually quite inspired. D'Amato was so talented as a cinematographer that the deficiencies of many of his scripts could be easily forgiven. The aforementioned aerobic scenes, for example, may add nothing to the plot, but they are good to eyes, providing very beautiful compositions that enhance the protagonist's generous curves. Aristide Massaccesi can be accused of not have been the best storyteller, but no one knew how to frame and to light an image like him. He was considered a contaminator of different film genres, and this aspect is present here, as what starts as an apparent light-hearted story gradually assumes a mild sleazy tone. Critics may see this as inconsistence, but I confess I like this kind of narrative imprecision.

Valentine Demy, who also worked for D'Amato in the disappointing "Pomeriggio Caldo" (1987) is well cast, despite her more than evident lack of training for dancing. Anyone could do the simplory dance steps she does here, but in such a low budget production I imagine they couldn't count with a coreographer and with time for the required preparation. What I like the most in Demy is the melancholy in her facial features. Although not having to acting skills of a "serious actress", her sad eyes bring out a inner sadness that fits well for the role of a disillusioned woman. The ambiguity in her Cleopatra-like face is fascinating, and her naturally beautiful body looks stunning through the voyeuristic lenses of Big Joe.

Laura Gemser, as usual in the period, has a cameo and the scene showing her doing a massage on the naked body of Demy stands out as the highest point in terms of eroticism in the film.

Also known as FLESHDANCE, DIRTY LOVE stars Valentine Demy as Terry, a young dancer who leaves her boyfriend and journeys to Richmond, Virginia (of all places) to study dance and maybe get a part in a musical. She dances a lot and strips at any opportunity.

She's rescued from muggers by an older man, Robert, who becomes her boyfriend. Being a free spirit, she also makes it with a male stripper and a politician. When her roommate Susan gets hooked on pills and becomes a prostitute before ending up in the hospital, Terry helps her get back on track.

After getting the lead in a "Chorus Line"-type dance show, Terry leaves her boyfriend and is ready to make it on her own.

The film attempts to be about Terry's search for her identity, although the character and the actress are too vapid to be interesting. With its many scenes of Terry bicycling and doing leg-lifts, this film is like a racier version of FLASHDANCE. D'Amato's sidekick Laura Gemser is not in it, but there is a Gemser-lookalike who gives Terry a massage.

It's probably D'Amato's most benign, bubble-headed film. A sequel, DIRTY LOVE 2, did not feature Demy, who went on to star in the VALENTINA series of sexy romps.

Makers of exploitation films are quick to spot a mainstream trend, give it the exploitation treatment, and make a quick buck. This film clearly results from that sort of thinking, and the bandwagon it is trying to climb onto is led by Dirty Dancing - after all its English title is Dirty Love.

This was not such a bad idea, after all Dirty Dancing was kid's stuff, and so there was an opportunity to naughtify the subject and supply disappointed punters that had been lured by the title with the dirt they were craving for. However, the film fails to implement this idea. Yes, it is soft porn, and yes, it has dancing in it, but the two ingredients remain unconnected. Although Miss Demy is a competent dancer she is let down by an unimaginative choreography. The dance sequences are so dull they would bore anyone's legwarmers off - clearly d'Amato didn't have a clue how to stage these scenes and what to do with them.

Valentine Demy was still fantastic to look at in those days, but she did not have the charisma and energy to carry a film.