Belladonna of Sadness

In 1973, the United States wasn't quite ready for Belladonna of Sadness, Eiichi Yamamoto's erotic animated adaptation of French historian Jules Michelet's 1862 book La Sorcière (known in the West as Satanism and Witchcraft). Although there is movement here that builds to a stroboscopic crescendo towards the end, Yamamoto largely relies on animator Kuni Fukai's static, richly-hued watercolors and oil paintings to tell the story of Jeanne (voiced by Aiko Nagayama), a beautiful weaver in a feudal village. Fukai's influences include art nouveau illustrator Aubrey Beardsley, surreal cartoonist Mœbius, and pop artist Peter Max (particularly his work for Yellow Submarine). The Skeletor-like local lord (Masaya Takahashi) won't allow Jeanne and her husband Jean (Katsuyuki Ito) to live in peace until they pay off a debt, but the lord is happy in the meantime to cruelly use her body as a play toy, a plot development that leads to some of the most disturbing, if also highly stylized, imagery in the film. When a penis-shaped imp (Tatsuya Nakadai) drops by to offer Jeanne assistance, she doesn't resist, ultimately learning to harness the dark arts, and gaining wealth, power, and the confidence to walk around naked. Masahiko Satoh's score—a thrilling mélange of free jazz and psychedelia—nicely punctuates the narrative of this film in which the sexual politics may be dodgy but the artistry is impossible to deny. Making its long-awaited U.S. debut in a beautifully restored edition (featuring eight minutes of footage cut from the original), extras include new interviews with Yamamoto, Fukai, and Satoh, and an illustrated booklet. Highly recommended, with the caveat that the film features sexually graphic imagery. (K. Fennessy)