THE SPINNING BED OF "FIVE DOLLS FOR AN AUGUST MOON" (1970)

 
 
 

So - regrettable as it is - this is the final post for the Five Dolls for an August Moon (5 Bambole per la luna augusto) marathon. I said I had a lot to post, and I didn't lie. Hope you have enjoyed.

For this dispatch: two more glimpses of that swell villa where Bava shot the film back in 1970.  And both feature one of the more amusing details of the production: a large, round, spinning bed. Honestly, I've always found the "novelty bed" to be a little off, a little tacky. There is (or was?) a round bed available at IKEA and every time I pass it, I think, god-that's-really-horrible-where-the-hell-would-you-get-decent-sheets-for-it-anyway?  IKEA? Probably not decent sheets...

But the thing of it is, it's a big, wide world with room for all sorts of people and all sorts of things.  And sometimes what might be an anxiety-provoking nightmare in your home is perfectly fun in someone else's.  And what really helps integrate a big, spinning bed into an interior isn't so much an arrangement of throw pillows, really, so much as a vixen...

Above, vixen #1: the fabulous euro scream-queen Edwige Fenech in the red bra and panties. 1970 was a very good year for Edwige: with the eye-liner and the big, sexy hair and all those great clothes, what a swell time to be a beautiful, swingin' young woman.  It should be noted that Edwige Fenech, who did not suffer from excessive modesty and would happily go topless for her art, had remarkably perfect breasts. And this is when a perfect breast was grown, not implanted. Maybe she still does.



Here's another clip, ending again with the spinning bed. Only this time it's not topped with the frivolous and sexy Edwige character in red bra and panties, but rather it's the calculating and bisexual Ira von Furstenberg character in red silk pajamas. Yes, a bit of a plot spoiler, this scene, but not entirely. And who cares anyway, since the plot is the least interesting thing about this film? What is very interesting is that terrific spiral staircase. Film critics have noted it's symbolic dollar sign appearance in a film very much about money. I'll just say it's hot.

Another architectural detail that intrigues: those great sliding doors, with the black lacquered frames and the semi-translucent grid panel. Goodbye privacy, hello fabulous! Though I will say I can seriously do without the recurrent use of putti in the hallway.  By putti (singular: putto) I mean the frolicky little statues of angelic babes, like cherubs without wings, that always seem piled up on one another for no easily discernable reason.  It's not that I don't understand the designer's intention: to juxtapose the Renaissance/Baroque ornateness of the statuary against the architectural modernity of the villa. I just tend to be highly unresponsive to statues of angels and babes and children.  

And finally, more of that great Piero Umiliani soundtrack...