Why should you see a twenty-four year-old Sylvester Stallone in an X-rated film? Geesh
talk about a self-defeating question. Of all the famous instances of Hollywood superstars and icons probing into the underbelly of blue-movie making, none are as actual as Stallone's 1970 foray into porn – The Party at Kitty and Stud's. I'm sorry, but the stills I've seen of Joan Crawford's, Sophia Loren's, Marilyn Monroe's and Marlon Brando's supposed ventures into the XXX are not convincing; OK, maybe Monroe's really does look like her, but the big black 'member' in her mouth looks nothing like Arthur Miller's. And as for Streisand's, don't make me laugh – the goy in that blurry footage looks nothing like my Babs.
Shelved after filming was completed, The Party at Kitty and Stud's was edited and released in 1976 as The Italian Stallion, so as to cash in on Sylvester Stallone's recent catapulting into the upper-strata of stardom. The version that will be shown this night is in fact this very 1976 cut, as edited and presented by Gail Palmer, legendary porn star and filmmaker in her own right (see The Erotic Adventures of Candy and Nazi Love Island). The new title was seen as a marketing ploy on the part of Palmer to cash in on Stallone's new moniker at the time, but if you pay attention closely to the striking Henrietta Holm, who portrays Kitty in the film, at one point she tells Sly, "Someday you'll be known as the Italian Stallion." Apparently Miss Holm missed her true calling as a psychic.
Any attempts on my part to offer a "synopsis" of The Italian Stallion would likely end in dry disaster. Except for a winter wonderland-ish park scene in the beginning where Sly gets flashed by a wild-eyed chick, the majority of the movie transpires in a single, though at times crowded apartment. And the dialogue is dense with drug-riddled diatribes, although they are most often highly amusing. Nevertheless, if you're a fan of the Dallesandro-era films of Paul Morrissey, then The Italian Stallion is the movie for you. The dialogue is, as I noted, quite riotous – "Be careful, you bit me last time " / "I'll be velvet-mouthed on your shank of love." The acting isn't half-bad, considering the kind of crap Stallone ended up making after this, and Henrietta Holm is at least charismatic (think of a cross between Holly Woodlawn and Cat Power). You get to watch Stallone ogling his hot not-yet-gross overly-muscled bod in mirrors, flexing, trying to be all Method-esquire, which in itself will keep you chuckling.
This film was made back when porno-making was still done by sleazy people, with sleazy people, and for sleazy people. Long before pornography tried to gain any sort of respectability as an art form – boring – the blue-movies were quite verité, almost slice-of- life if you will. And in 1970 all anyone in New York City was doing was having orgies, getting high, and beating up on his or her junkie-partner, right? I wouldn't go so far as to call The Italian Stallion a documentary, but chances are, between takes and after the three (yes, three) days of filming, the people in front of the camera didn't know the difference. This realization alone makes The Italian Stallion more than a worthwhile experience.
Shelved after filming was completed, The Party at Kitty and Stud's was edited and released in 1976 as The Italian Stallion, so as to cash in on Sylvester Stallone's recent catapulting into the upper-strata of stardom. The version that will be shown this night is in fact this very 1976 cut, as edited and presented by Gail Palmer, legendary porn star and filmmaker in her own right (see The Erotic Adventures of Candy and Nazi Love Island). The new title was seen as a marketing ploy on the part of Palmer to cash in on Stallone's new moniker at the time, but if you pay attention closely to the striking Henrietta Holm, who portrays Kitty in the film, at one point she tells Sly, "Someday you'll be known as the Italian Stallion." Apparently Miss Holm missed her true calling as a psychic.
Any attempts on my part to offer a "synopsis" of The Italian Stallion would likely end in dry disaster. Except for a winter wonderland-ish park scene in the beginning where Sly gets flashed by a wild-eyed chick, the majority of the movie transpires in a single, though at times crowded apartment. And the dialogue is dense with drug-riddled diatribes, although they are most often highly amusing. Nevertheless, if you're a fan of the Dallesandro-era films of Paul Morrissey, then The Italian Stallion is the movie for you. The dialogue is, as I noted, quite riotous – "Be careful, you bit me last time " / "I'll be velvet-mouthed on your shank of love." The acting isn't half-bad, considering the kind of crap Stallone ended up making after this, and Henrietta Holm is at least charismatic (think of a cross between Holly Woodlawn and Cat Power). You get to watch Stallone ogling his hot not-yet-gross overly-muscled bod in mirrors, flexing, trying to be all Method-esquire, which in itself will keep you chuckling.
This film was made back when porno-making was still done by sleazy people, with sleazy people, and for sleazy people. Long before pornography tried to gain any sort of respectability as an art form – boring – the blue-movies were quite verité, almost slice-of- life if you will. And in 1970 all anyone in New York City was doing was having orgies, getting high, and beating up on his or her junkie-partner, right? I wouldn't go so far as to call The Italian Stallion a documentary, but chances are, between takes and after the three (yes, three) days of filming, the people in front of the camera didn't know the difference. This realization alone makes The Italian Stallion more than a worthwhile experience.