The Voyeur, based on the famous erotic novel (L'uomo che guarda) by Alberto Moravia, tells the story of Eduardo "Dodo," who in public is a professor of French literature but in private a desperately lovesick cuckold, married to the ever-more-elusive Silvia. His life shattered, he becomes an onlooker rather than a participant in life. Those around him, though, seem to be living life to the fullest: his bedridden father has a scantily clad nurse and a series of lady friends; his students have unending sexual fun, sometimes in his presence; and even the public beach has become an orgy ground. Through a series of small revelations, Dodo slowly comes to realize who his rival is. The discovery, rather than destroying his marriage, strengthens and renews it.

Pick-Up:
An off-beat story about two young women whose lives are forever changed when they hitchhike a ride in a mobile home.

The Sister-In-Law:
A punchy story about the sexual entanglements of four people and how their moral conflicts lead to heartache and destruction.

The Stepmother:
A high-living architect who - as a result of his violent temper - finds himself enmeshed in two accidental deaths. When he discovers his 2nd wife having an affair with his teenage son...there's almost a third murder!

Pier Paolo Pasolini s notorious final film, Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom, has been called nauseating, shocking, depraved, pornographic . . . it s also a masterpiece. The controversial poet, novelist, and filmmaker s transposition of the Marquis de Sade s 18th-century opus of torture and degradation to 1944 Fascist Italy remains one of the most passionately debated films of all time, a thought-provoking inquiry into the political, social, and sexual dynamics that define the world we live in.

Remember the dumbstruck, jaw-dropped expressions on "Springtime for Hitler's" shocked opening-night audience in Mel Brooks's original film of The Producers? That will no doubt be your face through much of the two-and-a-half-hour running time of this infamous 1979 pornographic epic that was a (Penthouse) pet project of publisher Bob Guccione. That's not necessarily a bad thing. But don't take our word for it. Listen to Helen Mirren--yes, the Oscar-winning Queen herself--who stars as Caesonia, Caligula's third wife and "the most promiscuous woman in Rome" (and in this film's salacious vision of Pagan Rome, that is saying something). In her very gracious, thoughtful and candid audio commentary that alone is worth the price of this set, she remarks, "I think it's a movie that is unlike any other, which is difficult to achieve." And for those of a more prurient bent, she adds, "It has an awful lot of bottoms." Malcolm McDowell (A Clockwork Orange) gives a brave and fearless performance as Caligula, the hated and feared emperor corrupted by absolute power and no doubt voted Most Likely to Be Assassinated. The film unflinchingly charts his plummet into madness and the brutality of his reign in scenes of hardcore sex and violence that cannot be described here ("I can't watch," Mirren cries to her interviewers over one scene in which unfortunate characters are beheaded by a blade-spinning combine. "I can't even listen to it").

Throughout Patricia Rozema’s third film, conservatives tangle with liberals, men with women, and heterosexuals with those of more fluid sexual persuasions. Surface tension aside, When Night Is Falling feels more personal than political. Camille (Pascale Bussières) teaches mythology at a Christian college in Toronto. Her fiancé, Martin (Henry Czerny, Clear and Present Danger), is a fellow theologian. Their superior, Reverend DeBoer (David Fox, The Saddest Music in the World), encourages them to marry. When Camille’s dog dies, she neglects to inform Martin. At a laundromat, she meets Petra (Rachael Crawford), a circus performer, who offers support. She also leaves her card, so Camille seeks her out, but when Petra makes a pass, she flees. Petra tries again, so Camille talks her into being friends, but mutual attraction proves too strong to resist. A simplistic reading suggests that the death of a pet can lead to experimentation, except Rozema (I’ve Heard the Mermaids Singing) aims for a metaphorical reading rather than a literal one. Though the narrative isn't autobiographical, she also attended a Calvinist institution (the same one as writer/director Paul Schrader). It's a testament to her skill that the film feels so fresh, since the storyline echoes Lianna (the academic milieu) and anticipates Tipping the Velvet (the circus angle). It's also one of the more quotable same-sex love stories of the 1990s. As Martin tells Camille, "Maybe you can imagine more intoxicating options. That's okay--that's what imagination's for." To Rozema's heroine, however, fulfillment is for experiencing, not imagining.