Apart from being somewhat incongruously in B&W (1970 was a bit late in the day for that), this is very much a product of its time, with rather gratuitous strobe-like "psychedelic" editing even during quiet dialogue scenes, a classic Euro-cinema score with acid guitar and wordless Morricone-style female vocals, plus other very "now" (as well as very dated) stylistic gambits. They're rather oddly applied to a simple story of a war deserter hiding out on a farm where he's the wishbone being tugged between two hot hungry women, with a couple loutish supporting male characters thrown in as well. It's an arty exploitation movie or a somewhat trashy art film, whatever you choose. (Its co-feature on the Mondo Macabro Blu-ray set is slightly earlier Greek title "The Wild Pussycat," which is much more blatantly a pure exploitation movie, but also in many respects a truly inspired one.)
In a way the story is reminiscent of the British "Triple Echo" made three years later, except that film about another deserting soldier caught in a love triangle flirted with notions of crossdressing and homoeroticism, whereas this is all about tempestuous woman driven crazy by yearning for a man and his wang. The protagonist (who looks like across between Michael Sarrazin and Alain Delon) lands in the hayloft of busty, neglected, heavily mascara'd farm wife (lesser Italian bombshell Franca Parisi, who retired soon after this), while likewise attracting the frantically-crotch-rubbing attentions of a pixie-ish neighboring farm girl (Rena Valli).
There's a whole lot of meaningful staring between the principals, but the nudity and sexual content are pretty mild. There is, however, some girl-on-girl mudwrestling, and a weird scene involving the local "witch," cuz why not. Anyway, you can guess where this is headed: Our protagonist is probably doomed, but he's going to get a lot of hayloft action first. As the Beach Boys sang, it's "two girls for every boy"--or for this boy, at least. The movie begins and ends as an anti-war statement, but in between it's just a sexy potboiler that would have worked for Russ Meyer (although admittedly he would have given it quite a different flavor). It's hardly a major find, but it's more interesting than you'd expect, and more artistically ambitious (or you might say pretentious) than the fairly trashy little story or probably miniscule budget required.
Strangely, "The Wild Pussycat" was given an uncredited Italian remake by Joe D'Amato a few years later, while this movie was also remade by another Italian exploitation maestro, albeit the very same year-Bruno Mattei (who edited "The Deserter") directed "Armida," with Parisi again. Actually, I'm not really clear whether "Deserter" is the original and "Armida" the remake, or vice versa, particularly since both are rather obscure.
In a way the story is reminiscent of the British "Triple Echo" made three years later, except that film about another deserting soldier caught in a love triangle flirted with notions of crossdressing and homoeroticism, whereas this is all about tempestuous woman driven crazy by yearning for a man and his wang. The protagonist (who looks like across between Michael Sarrazin and Alain Delon) lands in the hayloft of busty, neglected, heavily mascara'd farm wife (lesser Italian bombshell Franca Parisi, who retired soon after this), while likewise attracting the frantically-crotch-rubbing attentions of a pixie-ish neighboring farm girl (Rena Valli).
There's a whole lot of meaningful staring between the principals, but the nudity and sexual content are pretty mild. There is, however, some girl-on-girl mudwrestling, and a weird scene involving the local "witch," cuz why not. Anyway, you can guess where this is headed: Our protagonist is probably doomed, but he's going to get a lot of hayloft action first. As the Beach Boys sang, it's "two girls for every boy"--or for this boy, at least. The movie begins and ends as an anti-war statement, but in between it's just a sexy potboiler that would have worked for Russ Meyer (although admittedly he would have given it quite a different flavor). It's hardly a major find, but it's more interesting than you'd expect, and more artistically ambitious (or you might say pretentious) than the fairly trashy little story or probably miniscule budget required.
Strangely, "The Wild Pussycat" was given an uncredited Italian remake by Joe D'Amato a few years later, while this movie was also remade by another Italian exploitation maestro, albeit the very same year-Bruno Mattei (who edited "The Deserter") directed "Armida," with Parisi again. Actually, I'm not really clear whether "Deserter" is the original and "Armida" the remake, or vice versa, particularly since both are rather obscure.
