Nympha (Regal Films, Inc., 1980) is a silly, classy, enjoyable erotic film that was an all-time box-office success. It’s not remotely significant enough to deserve that honor, but in terms of its genre, it’s very well done, filled with attractive and intriguing people, and scored with brittle, teasing music. It’s a relief to see a movie that returns to a certain amount of sexy sophistication. This tale of a young woman discovering herself was a headline-grabbing sensation when sex in films had gone mainstream. Its characters inhabit a world of wicker furniture, soft pastels, vaguely Victorian lingerie, backlighting, forests of potted plants and lots of diaphanous draperies shifting in the breeze. It’s a world totally devoid of any real content, of course and Nympha (Alma Moreno) is right at home in it. She’s the eldest daughter of Don Bernardo Monteverde (Johnny Wilson), a shipping magnate allegedly raped by one hundred young men. This experience propels her into a dizzying series of sexual encounters that range from the merely kinky to the truly bizarre. The screenplay from Toto Belano brought some class to the continuous bumping and grinding while Joey Gosiengfiao's direction shone the spotlight on the female star that gave the film much of its success. Nympha is executed with a patina of respectability. The cinematography takes advantage of the scenery, the dialogue is polished to the point of pretentiousness and there’s tact to the film’s atmosphere that definitely sets it apart from crasser approaches. This being said, much of the material feels ridiculous, offensive or hopelessly naïve by today’s standards, lending the film a veneer of sophistication, which if you looked a little closer doesn't ring true. If we were to be grown up about sex, then we must be as liberated as Nympha.
Gosiengfiao correctly understands that gymnastics and heavy breathing do not an erotic movie make. Carefully deployed clothing can, indeed, be more erotic than plain nudity. Gosiengfiao is a master of establishing situations. Nympha's rape, for example, is all the more effective because of its forbidden nature. And her encounter with Albert (Ricky Belmonte) is given a rather startling voyeuristic touch. The movie’s first hour or so is largely given over to the erotic awakening plot, but then Nympha comes under Marcial's (Alfie Anido) influence. She is intrigued at first, but with assurance comes experience and does it ever. Marcial delivers himself of several profoundly meaningless generalizations about finding oneself and attaining true freedom and then he introduces her to a series of photogenic situations. Marcial’s philosophy is frankly foolish, but Anido delivers it with obsessed conviction that the scenes become a parody and Nympha‘s comic undertones are preserved. What also makes the film work is Moreno's performance as Nympha. She projects a certain vulnerability that makes several of the scenes work. The performers in most skin flicks seem so impervious to ordinary mortal failings, so blasé in the face of the most outrageous sexual invention, that finally they just become cartoon characters. Moreno actually seems to be present in the film and as absorbed in its revelations as we are. She carries the film and at times almost seems like a visitor from another planet. Moreno is always shot with soft light and soft focus giving her a very tender appearance and it's not difficult at all to see why everyone in the film longs for her. It’s a relief, during a time of cynicism in which sex is supposed to sell anything, to find a skin flick that’s a lot better than it probably had to be.
Screenplay: Toto Belano
Director of Photography: Caloy Jacinto
Film Editor: Rogelio Salvador
Music: Jun Latonio
Production Designer: Danny Evangelista
Sound Supervision: Luis Reyes, Ramon Reyes
Directed By: Joey Gosiengfiao
