Emmanuelle’s Secret – Le secret d’Emmanuelle (1992)

Directed by: Francis Leroi | 90 minutes | romance, fantasy | Actors: Marcela Walerstein, George Lazenby, Sylvia Kristel, Joel Bui, Jay Hausman, Pham Duc-Tu, Daniel Hung Meas, Vibbe Haugaard, Tony Senegal, Frédéric Fratini, Natala Sevenants, Jean-Pierre de Varenne, Robert Terry Lee, Corinne Mafiodo , Lauren Song

Unbelievable: more than sixty Emmanuelle films or spin-offs have already appeared. This must be a sign that there is a target group for it; the only question is who? Who watches these often mediocre films, which, in addition to the cringe-inducing acting and the weak stories, also don’t have that much to offer in the sexual field? That is to say, some scenes are quite tastefully portrayed, but also in this genre of soft-eroticism there is undoubtedly something better to be found. A random “Red Shoe Diaries” story by Zalman King does a better job. It is also incomprehensible that our own Sylvia Kristel continues to lend herself to this franchise time and again. The first Emmanuelle was perhaps groundbreaking in 1974, and it is understandable that she does want to participate in a few sequels again, although it would be for financial reasons later on. But in the early nineties she still makes an appearance in the many sequels, as old Emmanuelle who looks back on her life. Now her role in these movies isn’t exactly substantial, and she keeps her clothes on, but why would you want to appear in these inferior products at all?

And then George Lazenby. What the hell is an ex-Bond doing in an Emmanuelle movie? sacrilege! Sure, Bond likes the ladies, as we all know, and on board the plane, where he talks to Kristel about the old days, he has plenty of opportunity to take Martini’s shaken, not stirred. But… oh no, he actually fits perfectly into this picture. After all, Bond also has days when he doesn’t fight crime.

Aside from the inferiority of the Emmanuelle movies in general, Emmanuelle’s Secret in particular has become a very easygoing, uninspired product. This part seems to be motivated purely by the thought of money, or perhaps by a producer’s requirement to complete seven films in this particular series in total. There is hardly a new thought or scene to be found in it. At least three quarters of the film consists of flashbacks of Emmanuelle (Marcella Walerstein) lying on the psychiatrist’s couch (within the flashbacks that old Emmanuelle has on the plane, when she tells the story of her youthful adventures). These flashbacks consist almost exclusively of fragments from other Emmanuelle films in this series. Suddenly we find ourselves in the middle of a free scene from, for example, ‘Emmanuelle’s Love’ or ‘Emmanuelle in Venice’, without the structure or context that give these scenes any meaning. Seeing just anonymous up and down sweating bodies makes for a lot less excitement. So the knife cuts both ways. No story to interest you and (partly because of this) no stimulation for the audience. This is not to mention the fact that it is a very lazy method on the part of the filmmakers. Occasionally we see Emmanuelle on the couch with a Freud-esque professor, who is quite funny in his stereotyping and the obsessions he displays – he fantasizes of a red-haired, busty woman in lingerie.

The ending suddenly seems to turn into a passionate encounter, when old Emmanuelle and old Mario (Lazenby) use the perfume together and turn into younger versions of themselves. They make love in the plane (among all the passengers), but during important moments, or just when a heavy shot is about to take place, they are repeatedly “cut away” to a flashback or dream image of Emmanuelle, or to a shot of a looking up fellow passenger. This also turns out to be a rather tame affair.