Color, 1970, 87m.
Directed by Jess Franco
Starring Maria Rohm, Marie Liljedahl, Jack Taylor, Christopher Lee, Paul Muller
Blue Underground (UHD, Blu-ray & DVD) (US R0 4K/HD/NTSC), Mediumrare (DVD) (UK R2 PAL), Umbrella (DVD) (Australia R0 PAL) / WS (2.35:1) (16:9)
Few other films by 
Jess Franco enjoyed the long-running mystique that surrounded this 1970 modernization of the Marquis de Sade's Philosophy in the Boudoir, which opened as a softcore bondage film in 1970 complete with a (soft) X rating in the United States. After that it disappeared for decades, with a few stills and occasional tantalizing write ups (most notably in The Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film) frustrating fans of weird cinema yearning to see what appeared to be a lost film. Salvation eventually arrived in 2002 when Blue Underground unveiled the film as one of their earlier DVD offerings in a full-fledged special edition, finally providing what turned out to be a key piece of Franco cinema. Thirteen years later, the label revisited the title as a deluxe Blu-ray and DVD edition, adding even more to the film's peculiar but haunting visual luster.
Franco had previously tackled de Sade as a period piece with Justine, this film finds him really tackling the author with gusto for the first time 
with a keen understanding of the necessary tone of jaded amorality. The savvy casting of Christopher Lee (who claimed he had no idea how sexual the finished film would be) is a major asset as well; though he has limited screen time, he's an imposing presence as Dolmance, a maestro of the perverse seen reading passages of de Sade during ritualistic sex acts before arriving on the island with a horde of fellow initiates for a key role in the finale. The highly extreme content of the original novel was understandably softened considerably (with Eugenie's mother, the most abused character, relegated here to a very minor role), but the tone is dead on as the story swirls down into a psychedelic orgy of sex and murder with Liljedahl at the center as a more innocent, tragic variation of de Sade's anti-heroine. This time out producer and screenwriter Harry Allan Towers adopts his occasional pseudonym "Peter Welbeck," though he'd kept his real name on Justine and his other collaborations with Franco (99 Women, Venus in Furs, Count Dracula, etc.) Perhaps more importantly, this also meant that Rohm (Towers' girlfriend at the time) was cast in one of the main roles and turned in a terrific performance, and Justine composer Bruno Nicolai was brought back here to contribute one of his best scores, a wild mixture of druggy party music, breathy Edda Del Orso vocalizing, and tropical lounge. In fact, the soundtrack played a large part in keeping the film's reputation alive during its absence with vinyl and CD editions piquing interest thanks to its standout tracks, most notably the now legendary "De 
Sade 70" (which 
also served as the film's alternate title in some territories). 
surprisingly, but all have some fun stories about the shoot and its marketing as a sex film, which made sense at the 
time but doesn't really capture the full scope of what's in store here. New to the release is an improved HD stills and poster gallery and the participation of Stephen Thrower, whose writing on the film in his essential book, Murderous Passions: The Delirious Cinema of Jesús Franco, has been adapted into new liner notes (replacing the ones by Tim Lucas for the original DVD). Thrower also appears for a new 18m9s featurette in which he runs through this portion of the Towers/Franco era, Franco's trajectory of de Sade adaptations, and the necessary departures from the source material that resulted in one of Franco's first full-strength sado-erotic masterpieces. 
subtitles). The slipcase and title card for the film itself now tout it as Marquis de Sade's Philosophy in the Boudoir 
while the actual disc sleeve and menus still call it Eugenie... The Story of Her Journey into Perversion, so you could find it under either title depending on the retailer. Both formats feature the trailer (now tweaked to feature the Philosophy title) and a new audio commentary by Troy Howarth and yours truly, so no evaluation of it here but hopefully you'll enjoy. Both of the preexisting featurettes are ported over on the Blu-ray, but you also get the new "Jack Taylor in the Francoverse" (24m43s) with the busy actor chatting about the origin of his screen name, his earlier Franco work including the multilingual Succubus, the Towers-Franco glory days, and the director's mix-and-match approach to shooting multiple films at once with an affinity for exotic cabaret scenes. An expanded gallery of international posters and stills is also included.2023 Blu-ray
2015 Blu-ray
