Lola (or Monella in the original Italian) is a carefree, impish girl who wants to “seal the deal” with her fiancé Masetto, a local baker who insists on waiting until their wedding night before consummating the marriage. But Lola wants to test his sexual prowess before being saddled to him forever. This leaves Lola sexually frustrated, flaunting her body at every opportunity, most memorably mooning bystanders while riding her bicycle right at the film’s beginning. Masetto’s spurning of Lola’s advances leads her to throw herself at every man she comes across, including a monk and her own father. Will Lola and Masetto ever consummate their love physically?
Anna Ammirati as Lola is spot-on casting, apparently an unknown that Tinto Brass discovered when he hit her on her bicycle with his car. She exudes a kind of care-free navieté, wanting something so completely that she really doesn’t even understand. Everywhere Lola goes, she presents like a bitch in heat with an expression of unsullied joy on her face. It’s an odd dichotomy to balance, the hyper-sexualized virgin, but Ammirati pulls it off with gusto. The plot of the film is as thin as you would imagine, but then one gets the sense that director Tinto Brass isn’t too concerned about the plot. The opening shot of Lola on her bicycle flashing her ass at random guys on the side of the road acts as the mission statement of the film. Watch this sweet girl act naughty! And man do we ever… Ammirati gets naked here at the drop of a hat, probably spending more time without clothes than with them. We have scenes of her pulling out her pubic hairs instead of flower petals in a round of “He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not”. We have her just unabashedly squatting in the middle of the street and pissing in the rain. Very bold, yes. But at the same time, Frivolous Lola lacks the darker edges of many of Brass’ earlier films like the notorious Caligula or Salon Kitty, so at the end of the day, it all feels like a bit of harmless fun.
The 4K transfer from the original negatives looks absolutely stunning. Frivolous Lola is a brightly colored film and the near flawless, clear image really pops in bringing out Brass’ expert cinematic eye. The audio is provided in both 5.1 and 2.0 DTS-HD options in both English and Italian and they all sound quite clear and pleasant. I didn’t really note a tremendous difference between the 5.1 and 2.0 tracks but the 5.1 did have some additional separation and immersion that could help bring you more into Brass’ happy, horny world. For extras, we first have an audio commentary with Eugenio Ercolani (director of documentaries like Italy Possessed and Fascism on a Thread) and Nathaniel Thompson (of DVD Delirium), and it’s a very good one. Both are full of nice little nuggets of trivia about the film, the cast and Brass himself, and it’s well worth listening to for fans of Brass. We also get an archival interview with Tinto Brass discussing the film, and it’s a pretty neat extra. Brass is always pretty candid about his films and the people around them. We also get some cool physical extras including a slipcase featuring the ‘pissing in the rain’ scene, 4 lobby card reproductions and a physical booklet with an essay about the film career of Anna Ammirati by Eugenio Ercolani and Domenico Monetti. The essay is quite good and very thorough. Definitely recommended if you want to know more about Ammirati.
If you are a fan of Tinto Brass’ accomplishing filmmaking paired with his odd quirks and perversions and are looking for a more feel-good, upbeat film in his oeuvre, Frivolous Lola will definitely fit the bill. With bright, exuberant cinematography and a charming, likable lead in Anna Ammirati, this release by Cult Epics also acts as a nice gateway drug into the erotic world of Tinto Brass.