Pussy Talk: Le Sexe Qui Parle

Joelle (Pénélope Lamour) has an unusual problem. Her pussy has developed a mind and voice of its own. It leads her into embarrassing and compromising situations, like masturbating in front of the guests at a dinner party like some XXX take on The Exorcist or going to a porn theatre clad only in a raincoat and getting it on with two of the other patrons in the men's toilets…

Joelle’s husband Eric (Jean-Loup Philippe, credited as Nils Hortzs according to the IMDB) tries to be sympathetic and understanding, calling in a psychiatrist (Ellen Earl / Ellen Coupey). But, after being compelled to fuck Eric and then Joelle by the talking sex, she then goes public about Joelle's unusual condition, leading to a media freeding frenzy…

The couple repair to Joelle's old family house in the country to hide out. Two sleazy press types visit Joelle's aunt (Sylvia Bourdon), an artist with a penchant for fucking her nude models, be they male or female, and learn her niece's likely whereabouts.

The news speculates as to the origins of Joelle's talking pussy: Could it like in a youthful trauma when as a 16-year-old (played here by Béatrice Harnois) she was molested by her stepfather – her mother bursting to shoot the man and then herself right in front of Joelle?

Perhaps.

It certainly seems to be the case that the incident seemed to precipitate Joelle's emergence as a sexual being, flashbacks to her seduction of her seduction of her tennis partner – mixed doubles, anyone? – using the nose of a Pinnochio as a dildo, indulging in a three-way with another student and one of the teachers from school, and confessing all to the priest before then fucking him following in rapid succession.

The press arrive at Joelle's hideout and she is forced to flee, into the arms of her aunt. Realising that it is futile to try to avoid the press, Joelle – or rather her pussy – goes public. This, along with Eric's fucking Joelle regardless of what her cunt says, seems to effect a cure. Then, as he goes to clean up, his cock starts talking. The nightmare continues…

The mid-1970s saw the brief flourishing of the French hardcore film before the government legislated to put the genre back into the ghetto where it remains today. While the mass of such product is probably best forgotten, a few titles stand out, such as Jean-Francois Davy's Exhibition and this entry from Fredric Lansac AKA Claude Mulot, released under the auspices of genre specialists Alpha France.

The central gimmick – with the action punctuated by shots from the vagina's POV – feels somehow quintessentially French, giving the piece more intellectual gravitas than the likely American model of Deep Throat. The whole alternative title/subtitle Le Sexe qui Parle is replete with double meaning, "the sex" referring to both gender and female genitalia, and allusions to notions to French feminist and psychoanalytic theories of "the sex which cannot speak" – i.e. the female.

This is not to say, of course, that the film's provides a reasoned critique of such theories, with the actions and motives of the talking cunt and its relationship with Joelle never worked through to the point of transparency. Perhaps that's the whole point, foregrounding the contradictions and blindspots inherent in any theory. Or, more likely, it's that delivering the right mix of sexual numbers to the raincoater crowd was what really mattered.

Nevertheless, you just know that someone, somewhere out there is going to discover the film and produce an academic paper exploring Pussy Talk's discourses around self and alterity and masculine constructions of female identity, making heavy-handed use of lines like the one where the pussy informs the reporter to come closer – "don't worry, I don't bite" – or constructing a history of similarly themed entries from Ever Ready the detachable penis-cum-phallus in the 1920s to the present as a history of meconnaissance in the porno genre…

Still, you've got to admire the gall of any film that loads the soundtrack with alleluias to accompany a sex scene in the confession booth or which brings out what we've all thought about Pinnochio's priapic potential.

Buñuel, Franco and Benazaraf would doubtless approve, even if the last two would also say it’s all "a big bullshit…"

And remember, if you laugh it's because you're afraid, to paraphrase Bataille…

Pussy Talk is available in at least two DVD editions. The Eurotika release is dubbed into English and, in order to obtain a BBFC 18 certificate, cuts out some of the more hardcore material. On the plus side, it also includes a worthwhile documentary on the French porn scene of the 1970s, along with the usual stills gallery and biographies. The French release – the one I viewed – appears to be uncut, and has a choice of French, English or Spanish dubs, and features the film's French trailer and a deleted scene.

The film is presented in approximately 1.85:1 and looks reasonably good for the most part, though some scenes here and there were noticeably more grainy than others. Audio is clear, though the music is maybe mixed a touch high compared to the dialogue and, well, noises…