Better known for his low-budget sci-fi efforts, British filmmaker Norman J. Warren cut his teeth shooting soft porn, of which HER PRIVATE HELL is an underwhelming example. Ho-hum script never lives up to the title.
Italian actress Lucia Modugno, who never came within shouting distance of the big time, stars as Marisa, a model who flies to London and secures a modeling job working for unscrupulous shutterbug Bernie (Terry Skelton in a one-note performance). Bernie's bosses, notably the hissable Pearl Catlin, are real villains, whose approach to the models in their stable smacks of human trafficking.
Problem with Glynn Christian's script is that it has to rely on the heroine being a complete idiot. She becomes a wined & dined famous fashion model but is never given more than walking around money, and simply doesn't protest enough at her slavery-like condition to be credible. Of course there's eventually a revolt and some later reel dramatics, but the film mainly clunks along on the back burner.
For 1968 this is not very sexy, with some topless footage but nowhere near the level of simulated sex that the fans were paying to see. Modugno is no knockout, and the "good guy" (sort of) romantic male lead, one-shot Daniel Oliver is just another boring imitation of David McCallum as Illya Kuryakin.
It's ironic that almost everyone from the '60s and '70s, regardless of merit, has developed some sort of cult following in recent years, and Warren is no exception. I've seen all of his films, and not a single one evokes any talent for the medium.
Italian actress Lucia Modugno, who never came within shouting distance of the big time, stars as Marisa, a model who flies to London and secures a modeling job working for unscrupulous shutterbug Bernie (Terry Skelton in a one-note performance). Bernie's bosses, notably the hissable Pearl Catlin, are real villains, whose approach to the models in their stable smacks of human trafficking.
Problem with Glynn Christian's script is that it has to rely on the heroine being a complete idiot. She becomes a wined & dined famous fashion model but is never given more than walking around money, and simply doesn't protest enough at her slavery-like condition to be credible. Of course there's eventually a revolt and some later reel dramatics, but the film mainly clunks along on the back burner.
For 1968 this is not very sexy, with some topless footage but nowhere near the level of simulated sex that the fans were paying to see. Modugno is no knockout, and the "good guy" (sort of) romantic male lead, one-shot Daniel Oliver is just another boring imitation of David McCallum as Illya Kuryakin.
It's ironic that almost everyone from the '60s and '70s, regardless of merit, has developed some sort of cult following in recent years, and Warren is no exception. I've seen all of his films, and not a single one evokes any talent for the medium.