The liberalisation of views, ideas, and laws, regarding sex and nudity in the 1960s and the 1970s affected different countries in different ways, and their responses and reactions varied. Given that it took place during at least two decades, it was not so much a revolution as evolution, but there was a global shift. This went from the benign, such as more relaxed views on public nudity or the availability of birth control, to more unsettling things such as discussions about whether to legalise paedophilia. What could be shown on film, and what was shown, also evolved. Swedish films like I am Curious Yellow (Jag är nyfiken gul, Vilgot Sjöman 1967), blended art, politics and explicit nudity in exhilarating ways, whereas the French made the box office phenomenon Emmanuelle (Just Jaeckin 1974), which led to several sequels. These were (initially) soft-core erotic films where attractive people had sex in attractive locations, with plenty of nudity. Another French variation of the new possibilities of sex and nudity is to be found in the more surreal films of Walerian Borowczyk, such as The Beast (La bête 1975), before he too made a film in the Emmanuelle series, the fifth to be precise. In Denmark there was a famous type of films called gladporr, with titles such as Bedtime Mazurka (Mazurka på sengekanten, John Hilbard 1970). These had no artistic aspirations, nor had they got glossy cinematography and exotic locations. They are more farce-like. There are also the artistically advanced films, such as In the Realm of the Senses (Ai no corrida, Nagisa Oshima 1976). The films mentioned in this paragraph do not have anything in common other than showing explicit sex and nudity, but that is the point. They are examples of how, over a few years, what could be shown in mainstream cinemas had changed dramatically.
Australia also made its contributions to the era of soft-core erotic films, which are considerably less known. In my declared ambition to write more about the cinema of Australia, I felt compelled to investigate this genre too. The most famous Australian example, to the extent that "famous" is appropriate, is Felicity (John D. Lamond 1979). Lamond had previously made two sex-related documentaries, Australia After Dark (1975) and The ABC of Love and Sex (1978), but Felicity is a fiction feature film, inspired by Emmanuelle. Felicity is a young woman who leaves Australia and her Catholic boarding school, watched over by nuns, for a time of sexual discovery in Hong Kong. (Lamond claims he was inspired by Richard Quine's The World of Suzie Wong (1960), a rather different film.) She befriends a local woman, Jenny, who takes Felicity to all the sexual hot spots in Hong Kong, including the bar Bottoms Up, which also features in the Bond film The Man with the Golden Gun (Guy Hamilton 1974). Felicity and Jenny naturally, in a film like this, also enjoy each other's bodies. Then one day Felicity meets a young Australian man, and falls in love with him, while still enjoying sex with others, including Jenny, when the mood strikes her.
It is in all aspects a very generic story, and without any particular qualities in terms of style or acting. The Canadian Glory Annen, as Felicity, is unable to muster much conviction, and does not speak with an Australian accent. The film has racist undertones of the alluring "Orient," and when Felicity falls in love it is not with a local man but with a white boy from her home country, after he saves her from some mean-looking Chinese men. In short, the film has little to recommend it. But that is also what makes it interesting. Few films are as much of their time as these 1970s soft-core erotic films. They could never have been made earlier, and they would never be made later for a mainstream audience, yet for a few years they were plentiful and very successful at the box office. That success was hardly because of the quality of the films, so the attraction must have been the full-frontal female nudity and sex scenes. In Felicity there is also briefly some male frontal nudity, when Felicity and her boyfriend go skinny-dipping, but whereas the women are showing it all in the sex scenes, any erect penises are out of bounds. I do not know if this was due to local censorship rules, or part of the general reluctance to show male genitalia. This is a general issue in cinema, the absent penis, and a topic in its own right. It sometimes seems as if the difference between a soft-core film and a hard-core film is whether it involves a visibly aroused male or not. There seems to be a general fear of the penis, especially in its erect form, outside regular pornography, which has not subsided. (Harvey Keitel is a rare exception. Jason Segel a brave exception.)
It is curious to think that Felicity and similar films were what people of the 1970s flocked to the cinemas to watch. It is a far cry from the polished virginal wholesomeness of Captain America that is dominating the cinemas these days, but I think Felicity has something else going for it. It is a film told from a woman's point of view, with her own voice-over narration, showing her discovery of her own body and embracing her sexuality, without guilt, pain (except when losing her virginity), remorse, or fear. The film is an unapologetic embrace of Erica Jong's "zipless fuck," who appropriately is name-checked in the film.
However, what is missing in the film is a sensual appreciation of the male body. Felicity likes to watch others, and she herself is sometimes watched by others. But whereas she looks at women or couples, never just at a naked man, she is on occasions observed by a man. She is aware, and returns the look, but the men who look at her are dressed and she is not. That is perhaps the most obvious gender imbalance in the film. Given her character, you would expect her to take great pleasure in just looking at a naked man, but in the film she is not given this opportunity, whereas men are frequently given the opportunity to look at her naked body. While she is given her own gaze, it is more restricted than the men's are. A reminder that sexual liberation does not automatically mean sexual equality.
