I like the storyline of this show,it attract me so much

Good story, Not enough for a whole film

a film so unique, intoxicating and bizarre that it not only demands another viewing, but is also forgivable as a satirical comedy where the jokes eventually take the back seat.

The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.

These were the 1970's and free internet-porn of still science-fiction. Laura Gemser was still riding high on her "Black Emanuelle" films (playing an ever-promiscuous journalist travelling the world). However, good looks have always been a thin compensation for lack of acting skills and by 1977 the fans probably knew every line of her well-proportioned body by heart. The producers were hard-pressed to come up with ideas how to keep the moneymaking-machine "Black Emanuelle" rolling.But as said: this were the 1970's and a "yes, we can"-spirit prevailed. Since softcore sex-scenes were no longer enough to push tickets into greasy hands, infamous sleaze director Joe D'Amato decided to add some more explicit, un-simulated sex-scenes. And, in case the "sexual aerobics" culled from unfinished porn-flicks wouldn't do the trick, D'Amato opted to include that infamous scene of a woman copulating with a stallion.Still, D'Amato wanted to stay on the save side, knowing that un-simulated penetration, ejaculation, excessively hairy performers (and the infamous horse-scene) could only go so far. The rest of film still "only" featured Laura Gemser looking pretty as a picture, staring vacantly into the camera and holding endless, boring conversations that didn't lead the story anywhere."Snuff!" – The word must have hit D'Amato like a heaven-sent flash (or perhaps from somewhere a bit further south). Hence, the film would contain three rather short scenes of men torturing and eventually killing naked women in front of a camera, which eventually gave "Emanuelle in America" its notoriety. When I say notorious, I mean notorious as in the original "Snuff"-film; by today's (internet) standard they are rather obvious, yet obviously shot with dedication. Yes, we know they're bogus but the images, if not the idea alone, remain creepy, even 30 years down the road.Need I mention that neither un-simulated sex nor fake snuff sequences make "Emanuelle in America" a good movie? Without said scenes the movies would be an extreme bore, about as entertaining as a 3rd graders school-play – containing said scenes, it remains a footnote in the film-records of gorehounds and porn-historians.2 from 10 for the film itself, 2 more for soundtrack and creepiness of the snuff-scenes; makes 4 from 10, and more generous than that it doesn't get.

Any director whose claim to fame is the "scummiest, sleaziest ever to peer through a camera lens" deserves further investigation. With that recommendation in mind I logged onto IMDb in search of further info on another Italian overlord of bad taste, the late 'great' Joe D'amato. Just a quick perusal of his accomplishments confirmed yet another treasure of Euro trash cinema. The titles alone promised new forays into Pasta-land chunk blowing: PORNO HOLOCAUST? EMANUELLE & THE LAST CANNIBALS? EROTIC NIGHTS OF THE LIVING DEAD!? That last one immediately conjured up mental snapshots of decaying corpses not just content to eat their prey but exploit collective states of Rigor Mortis in creative ways.... Until I'm privileged by the sight of copulating cadavers I'll have to settle with one of D'amato's more conventional movies, which isn't to say EIA isn't overflowing with enough outrageous material to put a backed up septic tank to shame. Joe was a true scuzz bag, free of pretension and willing to pump every filth encrusted cent for all it was worth. He did have some talent but like contemporary sleaze master Jess Franco, was choosy about utilizing it. EIA though remains an inspired, disturbing, breezy classic of trash cinema that admirably hoodwinks its audience, constantly alternating between arousing and repellent.If a film embodied the exploitation ethic, this is it; an amalgamation of plot threads, taboos & genres, EIA seems to go everywhere and nowhere. Really a series colourful vignettes as opposed to a plot, an anthology of loosely connected perversions with our heroine starring in each(the better to cover so much base territory in 110 minutes.) It begins on a perfect note with Manhattan pin-ups parading around nude for the benefit of shutterbug Gemser. And then its off from one bizarre encounter to the next: snuff films, personal harems, stud mills- Emmanuel is there for all of it, ready to bed down at a moment's notice like the liberated woman she thinks she is, starting with a gun-toting Fundy out to save the world from uninhibited sexuality ("The cause of all the disasters of this century!"). E thinks quickly, and in perfect example of grind house logic, unzips her assailant's pants to show him what he's been missing (hilarious, but perfectly reasonable from the vacuum of porn rationale). After fellating herself to freedom she's off on her first assignment, infiltrating the private harem of a reclusive millionaire (there should've included titles for each segment) extending her thighs-wide-open policy to the other gals (including a nicely lensed underwater interlude replete with a wealth of gynaecological shots and sapphic gropings a 'plenty) before witnessing the wealthy libertine's illegal source of income (firearms) & one woman's seduction of a horse.Truly a jaw-dropping spectacle, even I can't dispute uncle Joe reaches a pinnacle of ultra-bad taste here, inducting us into the annals of bestiality with a scene so disgusting and campy, its almost funny in that John Waters sorta way("Yes Pedro, I'm coming, I heard you call....").WTFIt all comes to a grinding, puzzling halt by the time of E's snuff coverage and other hardcore frivolity. The graphic but unobtrusive style is refreshing. It recalls the golden age of smut and not the video wasteland of today. He captures the hi-jinx with verve, the polar opposite of today's wham-bam thank you ma'am approach. I wrote halt and not 'end' because that is exactly what it feels like, a dead, screeching halt. EIA has starting pt. and stopping pt. but no true beginning or end. Since it doesn't work itself up to a full-fledged plot I suppose this approach is appropriate. It's a slice of X-rated life which doesn't feature tidy resolutions or pat denouements. The topic of each tangent, sexual gratification and the increasing lengths characters go for it is simply paraded in the film's rambling method. The snuff sequence is just the natural endpoint really to this slippery 70's slope of 'anything goes' and this sequence alone qualifies EIA for chunk blower status. It's similar to the POV shots from SALO(another cheerful look into what gets the ruling class off) events recorded on once-removed, 8mm silent film that just emphasize it's brutal verisimilitude. It's uncomfortable and eerie how fast & skillfully the film mutates into something far thornier. Sneakily, Joe starts out mildly cheesecake then takes the sexual liberation rhetoric to its logical extreme (cheesecake>orgies>bestiality>snuff) indicting the entire shallow 'Free'Love movement for the self serving hedonism it became. The hallucinatory set-up, E being shown the unsavoury snuff ropes by a prominent US senator touring a banana republic is something out of a horror film. We've traipsed into an entirely different movie by this point. Here, the super-elite allow Emmanuel the commoner a glimpse behind the curtain into their preferred brand of R & R: Little girl, you ain't seen nuthin yet. The rotten core beneath the sunny outer front, just as fast drawing the blinds back with a wolfish smile- witnessing the depravity of bankers and suits almost daily now, snuff doesn't exactly seem far fetched.D'amato wasn't known for pacing so the episodic structure frees him from traditional narrative constraints (which might account for his uncharacteristic energy as he rushes from one outlandish sequence to the next). Some will still find it plodding no doubt but compared to something like EMANUELLE & THE LAST CANNIBALS this wad of sleaze is practically bouncing off the wall with horn-dog enthusiasm. As a capsule of the bygone era of grind house gold, EIA deserves a look-see for adventurous viewers on the look out for forgotten works of the Italian exploitation renaissance. It's a boundary ignorant piece of provocation that only could've been excreted during the 70's. And check out that soundtrack!

Emanuelle (Laura Gemser) is a photographer/newspaper investigator/hardcore slut in this sleazy little film be the prolific Joe D'Amato. Emanuelle goes abroad to look for a story, any story. The plot is VERY secondary to getting the beautiful Miss Gemser naked as much as possible. But of course this being a D'Amato film that's not enough for him, so he throws in bestiality (real) and snuff (fake, but disturbing). Everyone except for the aforementioned actress isn't that easy on the eyes, to put it diplomatically, and despite the nearly non-stop action put on display one can't help but to be a tad bored before the films over. Only really worth it for fans of Laura. The only other quasi compliment I have for this one is at least it was better than "Erotic Nights of the Living Dead". Man that movie sucked.My Grade: D Eye Candy: Lorraine De Selle, Laura Gemser,Paola Senatore & various extras show all Blue Underground DVD Extras: uncut version; a subtitled Interview with director/cinematographer Joe D'Amato; an 11 minute subtitled Audio interview with actress Laura Gemser/Poster & still gallery; Liner notes of the Emanuelle films by David Flint; Filmographies for Joe D'Amato and Laura Gemser

At its outset, "Emanuelle in America" is like most '70s Eurotica, with naked women cavorting through every other scene, frequently having simulated sex with whichever man happens to be around, or with each other. The "plot" is just a series of scenarios meant to move the title character from one sexy situation to the next for a little less than two hours. In this case, Emanuelle (Laura Gemser) is a libidinous fashion photographer and photojournalist who travels to various locations (and not just in America, though she is New York-based), not-so-surreptitiously snapping photos of wealthy people having sex (almost no one questions why she insists on wearing that ugly pendant, even while she herself is having sex). But mixed among all this softcore humpage are scenes of bestiality, hardcore sex and very graphic (but faked) snuff film footage. Perhaps what makes these scenes so "shocking" is the casual way in which they're presented. First you're watching a half-hearted lesbian coupling in a steam room, then next thing you know you see a woman fondling an erect horse penis (surprise!). Then it's back into hard-R territory, until you suddenly see a woman performing fellatio (on a man, not a horse), presented in a decidedly triple-X fashion--particularly jarring when, up until this point, Emanuelle's America is a land where men seldom even remove their shirts to have sex, let alone their pants. There's more hard-X scenes to follow (none of which involve Gemser), but whatever prurient thrills that provides are quickly dashed by the horrific "snuff" film footage that follows. Scenes of women getting hot oil poured down their throats and getting nipples torn off are a definite mood-killer, yet they're presented matter-of-factly here, making their brutality that much more appalling.That's not to say I hated this movie. The gorgeous Laura Gemser is a compelling screen presence, though to be a sex goddess she's quite detached in her sex scenes, looking more like she's posing for a still photograph. And though it's alternately goofy, tacky and revolting, director Joe D'amato makes sure "Emanuelle in America" is never boring. Love it or hate it, you'll never forget it.