Jean-Francois Davy is a legendary maker of erotic cinema whose works were among the most notable among European adult film productions in the 70's and 80's. Here, Davy has turned the camera on himself in a sort of faux documentary about his search through Eastern Europe for a leading lady for his next adult film. As we quickly, and repeatedly, learn, gorgeous young ladies eagerly undress, and much more, for the camera but it's not until he makes a surprisingly personal connection that he discovers the woman who is to be his next starlet.

As an added "bonus," this collection from indie distributor Artsploitation Films also includes a 1975 documentary from Davy called Exhibition, a film that focuses on French porn star Claudine Beccarie. The documentary, which was the first hardcore film ever accepted by the New York Film Festival, is presented here as a special director's cut edition and has been digitally restored.

If you've seen anything recent involving Ron Jeremy, you kind of get a sense of how painful it is watching a film like Chasing the Muse, in which we're forced to endure countless scenes of an older, definitely out of shape yet reputable director whose modest possibility of offering them stardom apparently is sufficient for them to shed their clothing and much more.

Don't tell Donald Trump.

Oh, that's right. He already knows.

The film's scenes aren't particularly imaginative or involving. I suppose this is a benefit given that it answers that age old question "Can porn be boring?"

Yep.

Even when Davy finally finds his muse, their extended scene plays out with almost nothing in the way of electricity. Kitty Kat, the woman in question, appears uninterested and there's this look on her face that sort of says "Boy, I sure hope the check clears."

I hope so, too.

The transitional scenes designed to imply substance with the film are, instead, laughably shallow and pointless. Shot in French with English subtitles, Chasing the Muse ultimately speaks in the most universal language of all - bad sex.

© Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic