Nea, The Young Emmanuelle Reviews

NEA, released in France in 1976, is a slickly sentimental fantasy about an adolescent girl's sexual awakening. Its 1995 US video release will appeal primarily to cat lovers and fans of sappy escapist romances. Sybille Ashby (Ann Zacahrias) is a shy, rebellious 16-year-old with a penchant for erotic literature. Axel Thorpe (Sami Frey), a handsome, middle-aged bookstore-owner and publisher, catches her stealing his wares and demands an explanation. She tells him she wants to write and offers him a sample of her work. He is encouraging, but thinks she needs more experience. She becomes his protege. At her parents' posh suburban villa, Sybille (aided by her cat, Cumes) becomes a methodical voyeur. She spies on her parents making love, then later discovers her mother (Micheline Presle) in bed with her lover, "Aunt" Judith (Francoise Brion). She dutifully transcribes her observations into prose. Her scandalized father also catches Mom and Judith in the act, and Mrs. Ashby decides to leave him as soon as Sybille is old enough. Sybille arranges a rendezvous with Thorpe, who provides her with the experience she needs: she loses her virginity and they become lovers. Inspired, Sybille pens Nea, which, with help from Thorpe, becomes an instant success. Thorpe meets the Ashbys but conceals his relationship with Sybille. She catches him in bed with her older sister. Sybille takes revenge by faking a rape and blaming Thorpe, who goes to prison. He escapes and attacks Sybille, threatening to kill her if she doesn't confess to the frame-up. As they struggle, their old passion reappears with predictable results. Reunited, they bury Sybille's manuscripts and leave together, apparently followed by Cumes the cat. NEA was produced and directed by Nelly Kaplan, who also helped adapt the script from a novel by Emmanuelle Arsan. Technically, the film is almost seamless. The cinematography is lush, the editing is clean and efficient, and the acting is competent. Michel Magne's score is unobtrusive. For the American viewer, NEA's subtitles are almost superfluous; tones of voice, montage, and camerawork tell most of the story on their own. NEA's major flaw is its story, and how Kaplan handles it. It asks the viewer to take impossible situations seriously and accept ridiculous behavior because it is prettily packaged. Any comic elements in NEA are so understated they pass unnoticed. Sybille collects "evidence" of her supposed rape by seducing a schoolboy; this scene could be funny, but instead it's disgustingly clinical. Encounters between the film's various lovers lack emotional depth and erotic tension. NEA is blatantly commercial; its plot, production values, and tone are reminiscent of daytime soaps, an impression reinforced by its rich, good-looking, and decadent characters, suggesting a view of upper-middle-class life ostensibly tailored to the expectations of French blue-collar audiences. With its understated style wedded to an overblown plot, NEA is polished kitsch. (Sexual situations, nudity, adult situations.)