Edwige Fenech and Italian sex comedies: the 70s eroticism everyone misses
Edwige Fenech, Gloria Guida and Nadia Cassini were among the stars of 1970s Italian cinema. A beauty standard people now look back on fondly, and the naughty-schoolboy comedies Spain never quite had.
English · Original discussion in Spanish · Published
Edwige Fenech, the actress who defined Italian eroticism in the 70s
In the late 1970s, a British officer named Ed Fenech appeared in Quentin Tarantino's "Inglourious Basterds". The name was no coincidence: it was a tribute to Edwige Fenech, the actress who had starred in dozens of Italian risqué comedies and giallo films. That generation grew up watching Álvaro Vitali play Pierino — the character known in Spain as Jaimito — while a parade of bodies that now seem almost impossible to categorize passed by his side. The question hanging in the air is inevitable: would that formula still work today?
The Italian Jaimito that was never Jaimito
In Italy, the character was called Pierino. In Spain he was renamed Jaimito, and the mischief was identical: schoolboy jokes, cheeky one-liners and a bargain-bin eroticism that would never get past any filter today. Álvaro Vitali was the face of that whole cycle, but the real commercial engine was the actresses who appeared alongside him. Edwige Fenech, Gloria Guida, Nadia Cassini, Pamela Prati and Carmen Russo formed a parallel star system, with barely any tattoos or muscle tone, sporting curves that were then considered the standard and are now viewed with nostalgia or a smirk.
Fenech was the most in demand. She worked more in giallos than in comedies, although her name became linked to both. Italian genre cinema turned her into an icon, and Tarantino dedicated that character to her in his 2009 film. It is no small detail: the American director has repeatedly cited his fascination with 1970s Italian cinema.
The beauty standard that died out
There is consensus on one thing: the bodies of those actresses look nothing like today's. The absence of tattoos, natural voluptuousness and the lack of defined muscle are claimed as a lost ideal. By contrast, today's aesthetic is perceived as homogeneous, surgically enhanced and gym-obsessed. The debate is nothing new, but Italian cinema from that era works as a marker of its time.
Names like Silvia Dionisio, Barbara Bouchet, Janet Agren, Rosalba Neri and Barbara Bach also come up — actresses who moved from giallo to comedy without a second thought. The giallo, a mystery genre laced with heavy doses of eroticism, was their training ground. Some of those titles touched on subjects like Freemasonry or trains, and today they are championed as cult objects.
Why did that model of actress disappear?
The answer has to do with the industry itself. Italian genre cinema collapsed when private television swallowed up the audience and budgets plummeted. The actresses who had sustained that system moved into other formats or retired. Italian erotic comedy stopped being profitable, and with it went a type of star that has never returned.
Today, when one of those films is re-released, viewers encounter a product that fits no current category. It is not porn, it is not family comedy, and it does not pretend to be anything else. That is perhaps its greatest value: the honesty of a cinema that never asked for permission.
The question of whether anyone would still fall for that kind of actress has the same answer as forty years ago: it depends on how much you value what is no longer made.
In the late 1970s, a British officer named Ed Fenech appeared in Quentin Tarantino's "Inglourious Basterds". The name was no coincidence: it was a tribute to Edwige Fenech, the actress who had starred in dozens of Italian risqué comedies and giallo films. That generation grew up watching Álvaro Vitali play Pierino — the character known in Spain as Jaimito — while a parade of bodies that now seem almost impossible to categorize passed by his side. The question hanging in the air is inevitable: would that formula still work today?
The Italian Jaimito that was never Jaimito
In Italy, the character was called Pierino. In Spain he was renamed Jaimito, and the mischief was identical: schoolboy jokes, cheeky one-liners and a bargain-bin eroticism that would never get past any filter today. Álvaro Vitali was the face of that whole cycle, but the real commercial engine was the actresses who appeared alongside him. Edwige Fenech, Gloria Guida, Nadia Cassini, Pamela Prati and Carmen Russo formed a parallel star system, with barely any tattoos or muscle tone, sporting curves that were then considered the standard and are now viewed with nostalgia or a smirk.
Fenech was the most in demand. She worked more in giallos than in comedies, although her name became linked to both. Italian genre cinema turned her into an icon, and Tarantino dedicated that character to her in his 2009 film. It is no small detail: the American director has repeatedly cited his fascination with 1970s Italian cinema.
The beauty standard that died out
There is consensus on one thing: the bodies of those actresses look nothing like today's. The absence of tattoos, natural voluptuousness and the lack of defined muscle are claimed as a lost ideal. By contrast, today's aesthetic is perceived as homogeneous, surgically enhanced and gym-obsessed. The debate is nothing new, but Italian cinema from that era works as a marker of its time.
Names like Silvia Dionisio, Barbara Bouchet, Janet Agren, Rosalba Neri and Barbara Bach also come up — actresses who moved from giallo to comedy without a second thought. The giallo, a mystery genre laced with heavy doses of eroticism, was their training ground. Some of those titles touched on subjects like Freemasonry or trains, and today they are championed as cult objects.
Why did that model of actress disappear?
The answer has to do with the industry itself. Italian genre cinema collapsed when private television swallowed up the audience and budgets plummeted. The actresses who had sustained that system moved into other formats or retired. Italian erotic comedy stopped being profitable, and with it went a type of star that has never returned.
Today, when one of those films is re-released, viewers encounter a product that fits no current category. It is not porn, it is not family comedy, and it does not pretend to be anything else. That is perhaps its greatest value: the honesty of a cinema that never asked for permission.
The question of whether anyone would still fall for that kind of actress has the same answer as forty years ago: it depends on how much you value what is no longer made.
Summary of a discussion on Burbuja.info - Foro de economía, actualidad y política., translated from Spanish and reviewed before publication. Read the full discussion (45 replies).
More summaries
-
Tarantino: the myth of the original filmmaker crumbles
From copycat to Zionist: the shadows surrounding Quentin Tarantino. An analysis of his artistic decline after Jackie Brown and the political controversies that follow him
-
Real Madrid's Dominance: European Glory vs. Domestic Refereeing Bias
Real Madrid dominates European football but struggles against a domestic league marked by controversial refereeing decisions and the narrative hegemony of FC Barcelona.
-
Spain have won just three World Cup matches since their 2010 glory
Since the 2010 final, Spain have won only three matches across three World Cups: against Australia, Iran and Costa Rica. A record that dismantles the myth of the golden era.
-
Esther Palomera, 57: The Vitality of an Active Midlife
Esther Palomera, 57: An analysis of vitality and the modern models for navigating midlife.
-
Ajoaceite cravings: spiced mayo just doesn't cut it
Without a blending beaker, mayonnaise dressed up with spices fails to satisfy an ajoaceite craving. The longing for half a loaf of toasted bread remains intact and unresolved.
-
Coral fleece or flannel sheets: the bedding nobody manages
Coral fleece, flannel or cotton: bedding is bought by feel and managed with no method. The duvet with a cover still has no clear answer.