Severin Films | Buy at Amazon | Review by Jonathan Plombon
In 1981, "Joy Laurey," an allegedly world-renowned supermodel, wrote a tell-all autobiography chronicling her torrid, scandalous affairs with men, women, and everything in between. As far as my research went, and my research pretty much went with me pushing the search button on Google and going directly to a Wikipedia page, the woman behind the pseudonym, "Joy Laurey," has never been identified. I'm betting it's a guy. An incredibly attractive woman lusting after older men and searching for the ultimate sexual experience is akin to the woman you find in a chat room who really, really loves Pokemon. It's a great relationship as long as don't ask any questions that you don't want to know the actual answers to. For example, why, during your cyber sex flings, your internet girlfriend talks explicitly about how she has anal sex with dwarfs but she still won't even call you. The fantasy is sometimes enough.
JOY is a bit of that fantasy, one where its starlet, played by Claudia Udy, discovers herself wrapped up in so many varied positions that it almost appears like they're just different enough to keep an audience wondering about what weird fornication is awaiting them next. If everything that occurs in JOY occurred in real life then it's remarkable just how much her life resembles erotic French trash. It's almost like it follows the structure of the genre by increasing the outrageousness of the sex scenes until a final, can't-be-topped-climax. Hmmmm...
And this French trash begins with grade-A perversion of an impressionably young Joy sauntering out of bed in the midnight hour to uncover the source of unrecognizable moans. Wide-eyed, she strolls into the living room and finds that the noises aren't the result of coyotes clawing at each other's eyes, but of the equally alarming image of her father and mother in the throes of passion. She's startled, but continues to watch. In one of those incestuous, oh-shucks moments that we all can empathize with, her father orgasms just as he turns and sees his daughter.
As someone who's seen PIECES, I know that the physiological damage endured by watching sex at an early age results usually results in a killing spree. With that said, Joy bucks the trend, and instead becomes a globetrotting model who bounces from man to man in an effort to fill the void left by her absentee father. I guess it's true what they say. It's not the problem, but how you approach the problem that matters.
Although attached to several prominent men, the adult Joy's heart is stolen by an older man by the name of Marc (Gerard-Antoine Huart, who later starred in EMMANUELLE IV). Unlike the others who throw themselves at her, Marc doesn't submit to the allure of Joy's adventurous lifestyle or flawless body. After Joy invites him up to her apartment, a fully clothed Marc fingers her to the point of orgasm. Her skin sinks between the bones of her rib cage as she gyrates in passion, thrusting her chest up and arching her back to fully expose the shape of her female figure. She wants more, but he leaves. While other men crave to be in her presence, Marc is aloof, misogynistic. Symbolically, he's her absentee father that she craves to hold on to.
The fingering scene is visual candy that brings back fond memories of early Mtv sights and sounds. A great pulsating, danceable, synth soundtrack by Alain Wisniak accompanies Joy as her yellow-toned hair and slightly gold-tinged body tone simmers on the sparkling covers. The director, Serge Bergon, forges a style that allows the viewer to forgive how the film often romanticizes the lifestyle that it's mean to condemn.
Whiling filming a movie in New York, Joy is introduced to Bruce (Kenneth Legallois) who has immersed himself in esotericism (playfully calling himself an Aquarian Conspirator). Joy accompanies him to an orgy, which I guess is different than all the other orgies she's witnessed, because this one contains individuals who have withheld sex from each other for extended periods. I'm sure there's some deep meaning to it, but it was lost on me, especially since Udy is naked during the scene, and she's really attractive.
Joy returns to France where Marc hauls her to an underground club catering to sadomasochistic activities. She's frightened. And rightfully so. She's drugged by Marc and gang raped in front of him while he stares emotionless. She reaches out to him, but he makes no effort to assist. Three men service themselves at her expense, probing and dispensing their fluids in her one after another.
Finally noticing that her search for fulfillment through mindless sex probably isn't the best answer to her longing, she welcomes a phone call from Bruce who has found her father. The father and daughter talk briefly. The last shot is of Joy as she's leaving on a plane for New York to meet her estranged parent and finally, hopefully, fill the void that's been motivating her destructive behavior.
JOY glows with its (somewhat surprisingly infrequent) sex scenes and a lead character heightened to another level of complexity by Claudia Udy's great performance. Plus, there's a remarkable anti-sex message tucked under the stained sheets of its taboo sex. It's all refreshing for European trash, but unfortunately the film also glosses over needlessly interjected subplots (such as the implied sexual abuse by her step-father; why even include it?).
Don't let the quote from Mr. Skin on the back cover make you think otherwise – JOY is a respectful sexploitation flick.
