Pink Prison 1999

5.2 / 10   8 vote(s)
Thriller

36-year old Mila makes a bet that she can make a photo-report from inside the Pink Prison. She does not manage to get in legally, but at night she breaks into the prison. This is the start of a different erotic adventures.

Release Date 1999-12-11
Runtime 1h 27m
Directors Lisbeth Lynghøft, Jens Stang
Producers Lene Børglum, Peter Aalbæk Jensen
Writer Lisbeth Lynghøft

Nowadays mostly regarded as the stillborn publicity stunt of compulsive agent provocateur Lars Von Trier, Puzzy Power was an off-shoot of his Zentropa production company which proclaimed to purvey more female friendly fornication fare with an earnestness as severe – and equally fake – as that of his previously implemented Dogme Manifesto which advocated a return to cinematic purity. Their first foray, the period piece CONSTANCE, mainly proved that its director (the far from female Knud Vesterskov) had no idea of what women actually desired from explicit erotica beyond hazy Mills & Boon type bodice-ripping. Vesterskov seemed marginally better suited to the label's sole yet maddeningly uneven gay release HOTMEN COOLBOYZ. With a whopping grand total of three (!) titles, Puzzy Power ultimately gave way to producer Peter Aalbaek Jensen's short-lived Innocent Pictures, perpetrator of Jessica Nilsson's distinctly underwhelming ALL ABOUT ANNA. Fortunately though, they did get the recipe right at least once, starting by bringing in a filmmaker of the appropriate gender, Lysbeth Lynghöft, who came from a theatrical background prior to landing a position at the Scandinavian branch of MTV.

Rather a big deal was made of the fact that PINK PRISON's main character Mila was supposedly 36, therefore considerably older than the average female porn protagonist, never mind that she's played by an actress (Katja Kean) who's considerably closer to the glamorous stereotype and about half a decade younger ! A journalist slash photographer, she makes a wager with her amorous editor Yasia (Anders Nyborg) that she can secure an interview with the elusive Governor who runs the eponymous male prison. Denied entrance, Mila sneaks in through the air vent which effectively transforms the narrative into a variation on Alice in Wonderland as various archetypes guide her on her quest to meet the mysterious man in charge. Hand-cuffed by monolithic guard Alberto Rey, she's literally liberated by the prison's Chef (Mr. Marcus) who gently blows on an ice cube to reveal the tiny key that unlocks her shackles in a beguiling mixture of dream logic and matter of fact fairy tale quality unerringly true to its literary example.

The sexual content – satisfyingly explicit whilst refusing to get bogged down by excessive genital close-ups – runs the gamut from the almost violently passionate grope with Rey to the tender lovemaking of Mr. Marcus with 9 AND A HALF WEEKS type food play. Mischievously, the movie's initial erotic footage is of solitary Michael (American Marc Duran, also in Jacques Nolot's transgressive art house offering CHATTE A DEUX TETES, portraying the film's facsimile of the White Rabbit) intently caressing his muscular physique, immediately followed by a desperate albeit simulated man to man encounter straight out of Jean Genet, imagery clearly designed to reel in the female viewer while rendering her companion possibly queasy. Best of show would have to be Katja's blue-tinged shower room fantasy where she's presented with three seemingly disinterested platinum-topped pretty boys, among them "Ray Sörensen" a/k/a Ronny Nielsen from Mike Beck's VIKING LEGEND and JANE BOMB, who grow increasingly animated through our heroine's insistent attentions. Not too surprisingly, the Governor turns out to be a woman, the sturdy Evil Eve, who was in Beck's SEXSEMESTERN. Applying a strap-on to the strapped down Mila, she ultimately ushers in Michael to deliver on the sustained feature-length tease.

Every aspect of production has been handled with consummate care. The crystal-clear camera work makes compelling use of light and shadow and Nils Lassen's eclectic soundtrack can actually be enjoyed rather than endured. Reducing her characters to fictional figures coded by costume, Lynghöft has made sure not to tax her cast's abilities too much yet still accords them the attention required to make them flourish as performers. Kean in particular, so often the prototypical ice goddess, rewards these efforts with a passion-filled tour de force that justifies and cements her superstar status.

Birger Wilhelmsen