Edwige Fenech was a natural fit for these sort of unabashed romps, which reveled in a silly, heightened style. Lovingly packaged and produced by No Shame Films come two of her earlier works, previously unreleased in the United States — 1972’s Ubalda, All Naked and Warm, from director Mariano Laurenti, and Sergio Martino’s Giovannona Long-Thigh, from the following year.
Ubalda is a top-notch if still somewhat culturally specified la ronde, its farcical story centering around a medieval Italian knight, Olimpio (Pippo Franco, of Billy Wilder’s Avanti!), who returns home from war and finds himself caught between his unfaithful wife (Karin Schubert) and the comely Ubalda (Fenech), a bored bride with a jealous husband-to-be (Umberto D’Orsi). Frustrated to no end by the chastity belts of the women in his life, Olimpio slips in and out of fanciful daydreams and concocted schemes, dressing up as a painter in order to try to get closer to Ubalda, who certainly does little to discourage his attention.
. Franco again pops up as a bumbling underling assigned to oversee the seduction, but <b>typically crossed signals and miscommunications ensue, leading to all sorts of jaunty consternation</b>.</p>
<p>Through set worlds apart, both films are spry and lively, powered by typically turbo-charged Italian genre dialogue and <b>Fenech’s flirty demeanor, a cross between Audrey Hepburn’s eye-batting innocence and Elsa Martinelli’s high style</b>. It’s a shame that more films of this ilk — carefree movies that capture the whipped subservience of men in pursuit of for the most part innocently depicted carnal release — aren’t made today.</p>
<p><b>Presented in 2.35:1 widescreen enhanced for 16×9 televisions, both pictures look great for their age</b>, and are remarkably free from grain or discoloration. The Italian language Dolby digital soundtracks (mono for <i>Ubalda</i>, stereo for <i>Giovannona</i>) are more than adequate, though some of the transliterations of the English subtitles seem to lose a bit in crossing the ocean. The bulk of these titles’ extras are replicated on each disc — namely, a 10-minute trailer collection of Fenech titles and a pointless, three-minute “groovy sexadelic reel” that appears strung together by someone dropping acid and listening to Jimi Hendrix.</p>
<p>Thankfully, <b>each release comes with an eight-page, full-color insert booklet that includes biographical information, liner notes and miscellaneous photos, plus current day subtitled interview segments with Fenech</b>. The only rub on these two different bits is that they’re somewhat short (seven minutes), and additionally padded by extra-long credit sequences. Still, even if she doesn’t address much directly in regarding <i>Ubalda</i> and <i>Giovannona</i>, it’s interesting to hear Fenech talk about her near-casting in Federico Fellini’s <i>Amarcord</i> (in the part of Gradisca, eventually awarded to <a href=)
Magali Noel Naturally, the Q-Man was intimately familiar with her work.) and meeting Quentin Tarantino at the Venice Film Festival. Now a wider American audience can be too. B (Movies) B (Discs)