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Plot: hapless gardener is seduced by a mother and her underage daughter

Not all Gloria Guida comedies are created equal. Just like Fernando di Leo’s Blue Jeans (1975) before it That Malicious Age is another of these rather bland melodramatic and slightly tragic coming-of-age commedia sexy all’italiana exercises that are part and parcel in Guida’s early-to-mid seventies repertoire. Like any of the titles preceding it That Malicious Age has a proclivity towards melodrama but that doesn’t stop it from featuring more than a copious amount of Guida in advanced state of undress and a handful of risqué situations that it could easily classify as a regular soft erotic romp. Is it one of Gloria Guida’s best outings? That’s entirely dependent entirely on what you come to these things for. What it does feature is enough Gloria Guida in the buff to satisfy anyone’s cravings.

Silvio Amadio was crazy about Gloria Guida. Perfectly understandable given how lovely la Guida was one of the prime Lolitas of the commedia sexy all’italiana. No, Amadio wasn’t just crazy about her. He was obsessed with her. He had filmed glorious Gloria earlier in the not entirely creatively stunted The Underage Girl (1974) and would do so again in So Young, So Lovely, So Vicious (1975). Unfortunately Guida didn’t reciprocitate his amorous feelings and Amadio descended into a self-destructive tailspin as a result. Gloria - whose shapely derrière was made a legend in its own right by Mario Imperoli’s Monika (1974) and Blue Jeans (1975) - was in a relationship with famed showman/crooner Johnny Dorelli and no on-set fling with a celebrated director was worth that risk. However Guida’s claim to cinematic immortality was to come in the form of Michele Massimo Tarantini’s La Liceale (1975) (released in North America as The Teasers) with Giuseppe Pambieri and a few years down the line with Fernando di Leo’s irreverent, subtextual and widely misunderstood satire To Be Twenty (1978) where la Guida was in company of fellow Lolita Lilli Carati, genre veteran Vittorio Caprioli and the late, great Ray Lovelock.

At behest of his high-strung (off-screen and uncredited) wife out-of-work painter Napoleone “Nino” Castellano (Nino Castelnuovo) takes up a gardening job at a summer mansion in the municipality of Portoferraio on the Mediterranean island of Elba on the Tuscan Archipelago. En route to the job interview Nino makes his acquaintance on a crowded bus with a stunning blue-eyed blonde who immediately starts flirting with him. Once at his destination he awkwardly bumbles his way through the job interview with the family matriarch (Anita Sanders), a bored socialite housewife, who instantly makes advances towards him. It is then that Nino finds out that the attractive girl he met on the bus earlier is his employer’s daughter Paola (Gloria Guida). Paola lives with her mother and absent stepfather and writer Adolfo (Andrea Aureli). As Nino settles into his new surroundings and starts to work around the house he is alternately pushed into compromising positions by the mother as well as the daughter. As the dance of seduction from mother and daughter alike intensifies things take a turn for the tragic for Nino when Paola spurs the advances of a Spanish fisherman (Mimmo Palmara) living in a nearby shack.

That Malicious Age is, of course, a tour de force for everybody’s favorite soon-to-be schoolgirl Gloria Guida. While rather demure compared to some of her other work That Malicious Age sees Anita Sanders in the habit of undressing in front of Nino for no particular reason. It has Guida’s Paola doing a sultry striptease in front of the window and her conveniently leaving the door to her room open whenever she undresses. A particularly suggestive scene has Paola giving Nino an implied footjob when the two of them are driving back from Portoferraio with the company of Paola’s blissfully unaware parents in the back. That Malicious Age concludes with its most memorable scene that sees Paola running around completely naked in Calenzano pinewoods. Since no Gloria Guida comedy or melodrama is complete without its share of tragedy her nude scene is a prelude to the movie’s downbeat conclusion. The entire thing is pervaded by tragedy as it truly is about the sheer dysfunctionality of the bourgeoisie. Nino finds himself martyred (his Christ pose when Paola falls into his arms drives the point home well enough) and ousted from the community after coming to nubile Paola’s rescue towards the very end.

The cast for That Malicious Age is an assortment of young new stars and respected elders in supporting roles. Nino Castelnuovo was a regular in comedy, drama and romance al through the sixties and seventies. His many credits include, among others, The Umbrellas Of Cherbourg (1964), Strip Nude For Your Killer (1975), La Collegiale (1975), Star Odyssey (1979), and The English Patient (1996). Anita Sanders was a former Swedish model of no visible talent that would retire from acting after That Malicious Age. Mimmo Palmara was a monument of the Golden Age of Italian cinema and a pillar in the peplum and spaghetti western genres. Palmera made appearances in, among many others, the Pietro Francisci pulp sword-and-sandal epic The Labors Of Hercules (1958) and its amiable sequel Hercules Unchained (1959), The Trojan Horse (1961), the Eurospy-fumetti curiosity Argoman, the Fantastic Superman (1967) and The Arena (1974).

Andrea Aureli was another monument of the Golden Age of Italian cinema and a regular in peplum, spaghetti western and poliziotteschi. His credits include diverse offerings as Paprika (1991), Adam and Eve Meet the Cannibals (1983), Lady Frankenstein (1971), Samoa, Queen of the Jungle (1968) and The Last Of the Vikings (1961). The most famous among the crew was director of photography Antonio Maccoppi who was a frequent collaborator of Amadio and lend his talents to Killer Nun (1979), Our Lady Of Lust (1972), So Young, So Lovely, So Vicious (1975), Nude For Satan (1974), The Underage Girl (1974), Secret Confessions in a Cloistered Convent (1972) and School of Erotic Enjoyment (1971) where Malisa Longo's breasts deserved a credit of their own.

Gloria Guida might not have been the cream of the crop of the commedia sexy all’Italiana as far as acting talent was concerned but her presence illuminated whatever production she found herself in. That Malicious Age isn’t especially funny or sizzling sexy although it never fails to find creative or far-fetched excuses to have Guida undress or lose articles of clothing. Nino Castelnuovo is an amiable leading man and his interactions with Anita Sanders and Gloria Guida are what make That Malicious Age work. It never aspires to the same creative heights as The Underage Girl (1974) and seems content to dwell in the same general sphere as Mario Imperoli’s Monika (1974) and Blue Jeans (1975). There are enough shots of la Guida’s legendary derrière and the third act introduction of Paola’s boyfriend Franco (Mario Garriba) is too little too late to be of any meaning. The Mimmo Palmara subplot feels like an afterthought and the bittersweet conclusion only seems there to have the expected level of tragedy that apparently no Gloria Guida comedy is complete without. It’s competent and enjoyable enough, but Guida had yet to manifest actual acting talent in Fernando di Leo’s To Be Twenty (1978).

Plot: novelist Sarah Asproon moonlights as a high-class escort researching a new book

Ten years after after Eva Nera (1977) Italian exploitation guru Aristide Massaccesi (under his English nom de plume Joe D'Amato) started a new soft erotica franchise with a bright young star in the form of Eleven Days, Eleven Nights. Bankrolled to capitalize on the success of Nine 1/2 Weeks (1986) and on the willingness of actress Luciana Ottaviani (under her Anglicized alias Jessica Moore) to shed fabric it sees the symbolic passing of the torch from D’Amato’s beloved softcore star of the previous decade Laura Gemser to Moore. While not her screen debut with D’Amato Eleven Days, Eleven Nights was the franchise she is most identified with. In 1988 a pseudo-sequel followed in the wake of the original’s box office success with Top Model (1988) (alternatively released in some territories as Eleven Days, Eleven Nights: the Sequel for maximum confusion). In 1990 followed an official sequel with Eleven Days, Eleven Nights 2 with Kristine Rose taking over as lead.

Front and center is Luciana Ottaviani, who was a dancer, glamour model, and showgirl before turning to acting. At age 19 Ottaviani was offered a role in Convent Of Sinners (1986), a production where she initially was contracted to work as an assistant. The production proved lucrative and Ottaviani was given her own vehicle with Eleven Days, Eleven Nights. Working the trenches almost exclusively with Joe D’Amato, and Mario Bianchi, Ottaviani starred in a dozen of movies in the three-year period from 1986 to 1989. During the death throes and eventual collapse of the Italian horror industry she worked with Lucio Fulci on Sodoma’s Ghost (1988) and the Fulci produced giallo Blood Moon (1989). Taking a cue from the greatest exploitation muses, Luciana Ottaviani never appeared under her own name. Early on Ottaviani used the Gilda Germano alias before rechristening herself to the more American sounding Jessica Moore once given her own production. Luciana Ottaviani’s English alias in turn has led to some understandable confusion as she shares it with an Hungarian adult actress, and an Australian tennisplayer. In 1989 Ottaviani moved out of the cinema industry as family life took precedence.

Aristide Massaccesi was a cinematographer by trade, and the typical workhorse exploitation director that dabbled in every genre in need of exploiting. It wasn’t until 1979 that he adopted the Joe D’Amato alias under which he directed a swath of soft erotic features with Laura Gemser. Gemser was the star of Bitto Albertini’s Black Emanuelle (1975), but it was D’Amato who made the franchise profitable. All through the 1980s and 90s D’Amato directed over 100 erotic features, both of t he soft- and hardcore variety, for the Italian video market. During the decade he directed everything from the Greek horror feature Anthropophagus (1980), the Conan the Barbarian (1982) knockoff Ator the Invincible (1982) and its sequel Ator, the Blade Master (1984) with Miles O’Keeffe to the post-apocalyptic actioner Endgame (1983). From the looks of it D’Amato’s 1980s softcore features apparently came as a response to the success of Italian master of erotica Tinto Brass. Where Brass is a craftsman and technician with an obsession with richly formed posteriors, smut peddlers Massaccesi, and Jesús Franco, were far less dignified and ogled any and every starlet willing to get naked for them. Moore is easy on the eyes and it's easy to see why D'Amato insisted on getting her her own franchise. Moore might not be much of an actress, but she certainly looks absolutely amazing au naturel.

In New Orleans Sarah Asproon (Luciana Ottaviani, as Jessica Moore) is an enterprising young writer moonlights as a high-class escort to collect material for her new book. Asproon is a bisexual, nymphomaniacal, nude top model/exotic dancer moonlighting as a journalist, or the other way around. It’s the sort of character that could’ve only sprung from the diseased mind of old Joe. On board of a ferry Asproon flashes dopey young construction designer Michael Terenzi (Joshua McDonald) who can’t resist the comely charms of the alluring vamp, and their initial meeting is the start of a brief albeit passionate affair. Terenzi is scheduled to be married to the demure Helen (Mary Sellers). In the following Eleven Days, Eleven Nights Terenzi engages in a steaming affair with sizzling Sarah, who initiates him to exciting sexual pleasures. Mentoring Asproon is publicist Dorothy Tipton (Laura Gemser). It’s a symbolic passing of the torch from one D’Amato softcore starlet to the next. Helen, naturally, starts to feel neglected, and some friction develops when Asproon is forced to reveal that she is merely using Terenzi as a way of completing her new novel “My 100 Men”, a scathing exposé chronicling her sexual conquests. Hearts break, tears roll, and Sarah Asproon returns to her life of prostitution.

Eleven Days, Eleven Nights was written by the husband-and-wife team of Claudio Fragasso and Rossella Drudi which, if this was a horror production, should have anyone sane running for cover. The movie claims to be based upon a novel by one Sarah Asproon, but the name is merely one of many aliases used by Rossella Drudi to give the production a veneer of respectability. It wasn’t the first time D’Amato used such tactic as The Alcove (1985) made similar bogus claims as to its source material. Surprising of both D’Amato and the rightly reviled Drudi-Fragasso axis Eleven Days, Eleven Nights is at times very romantic and there’s a genuine sweet undercurrent to its playful softcore shenanigans. Top Model, its pseudo-sequel, would play up the romantic angle to an even greater degree. In both movies there’s more than enough Luciana Ottaviani in the buff to satisfy anybody’s cravings.

As the Italian exploitation industry started to decline in the 1980s and eventually withered towards the end of the decade D’Amato worked as a director of soft- and hardcore erotica. It’s telling that D’Amato’s repertoire of softcore erotica is frequently and consistently better produced with more attention to shot composition than his horror movies of the period tend to be. Replacing much of the bleakness and nihilism that pervaded his movies with Laura Gemser, Black Emanuelle and otherwise, Eleven Days, Eleven Nights is the Eva Nera (1977) of the eighties. Providing two electro pop songs to the soundtrack is domestic Eurobeat mainstay Leonie Gane. Her two contributions border on the annoying with its cauterwauling vocalizations and sub-Marcello Giombini beat. The majority of the score was composed by Piero Montanari, a well-regarded Italian bassist and musician that contributed to recordings from many artists including Don Backy.

It never sinks to the backwardness of D’Amato’s own period potboiler The Alcove (1985) although that one did have the late Lilli Carati and it never bothers itself with the human drama that comprised much of Mario Bianchi’s Reflections Of Light (1988). Joe D’Amato might not have been a good director, but he at least knew how to put a scene together. Likewise is Luciana Ottaviani's inability to act countered by her looking rather splendid in lingerie (or less). There isn’t much in the way of a plot worth remembering, and whenever Moore takes her clothes off she’s shot with the kind of attention to detail you wish old Joe used in his other more remembered and memorable movies, but somehow never did. It’s a late-night erotic TV movie helmed by a director famous for his horror and gore oeuvre. It’s nothing more than 90 minutes of the camera ogling over the finer points of Luciana Ottaviani’s anatomy. It’s perfunctory in exactly the ways movies like this ought to be. It’s soft erotic trash with a veneer of minimal story. Eleven Days, Eleven Nights makes no qualms about what it is, and that honesty is refreshing to say the least.