Emmanuelle 1974

Just Jaeckin lived in France and owned an art gallery with Anne, whom he was married to. He exposed his work as a painter and sculptor. He was also a photographer for Vogue and Elle. And the cineast who realized Emmanuelle, 13 years on screen in a theatre on the Champs-Elysées. Why? 

He’s born in 1940, Anne in 1961. They live in Paris then Saint-Briac-sur-Mer, on the shores of the English Channel. They run the gallery for twenty years, showing them works and thousands of artists. They both capture beauty and intimacy. Jeackin love challenges and had to refont his life every ten years he says. He’s a photograph, work in films production, also a painter and a sculptor. Anne Jeackin is an artist, and after a career dancing, she began sculpting faces, hands, feet, and nudes, with plater and bronze she forms romantic duos with fluidity and grace.

"‘Emmanuelle, the longest caress in French cinema.” A documentary produce by Arte in 2020, Célia Cohen gives us her reflexion about the movie that made 25 millions views the first year. The idea grow in the mind of Yves Rousset-Rouard in 1970, with the need to “make a lot of money with little investment”, he buys the rights to adapt the novel Emmanuelle writen by Marayat Bibidh (at the time, she use the pseudo Emmanuelle Arsan) and hire Truffaut’s co-scenarist, Jean-Louis Richard, and a photograph he liked as director, Just Jeackin.

Emmanuelle is visiting Jean, her husband, in Bangkok. Their home is dark wood, open to nature and looks like a postcard of paradise. Colors are soft, natural and the blur filter make it all dreamy. But paradise is never quiet. On her way in, the jungle feels less exotic than menacing:, she’s afraid of the child’s scream and the brutality of street markets where people cut chicken’s throat on the street. Safely tucked into her chic green convertible, she lean on Jean to protect her. The message couldn’t be clearer, she’s a young innocent women, delicate flower who needs a man to save her from the chaos of the outside world.

In the movie, Sylvia Kristel (who play Emmanuelle) finds herself surrounded by the wives of Jean’s friends. Wealthy, glamorous, and very much bored, they lounge poolside with oversized glasses of wine, discussing about cheating their man. Emmanuelle, in contrast, is painted as childlike, shy of her own thoughts and even frightened of sexuality itself. She claim that she “never cheated Jean in Paris”. The line, however, carries ambiguity: the emphasis lies on Paris, not never. So here, the film draws a clear line between two archetypes. On one side, the loud women who flaunt their sins like designer handbags: powerful, yes, but painted as vulgar, grotesque. The other side is the coy, hesitant girl who is naïve, almost virgin and shy of her own desires. This scene reveal the complex paradox of perception on woman’s sexuality depending on their behaviors towards their quest for pleasure. They’ve got to know how to satisfy, but quietly.

When women pursue pleasure openly, they are branded excessive or immoral. Society often frames them as vulgar, dangerous, or corrupt, reducing confidence in sexuality to vice.

When women appear hesitant or naïve, they are fetishized. Their innocence becomes eroticized, celebrated only because it can be shaped, controlled, or “awakened” by others.

Emmanuelle emerges as a projection of the so-called perfect woman: outwardly innocent, quiet, obedient, always in her place. Yet, in the eyes of certain men, she is also magnetic and deeply sensual and this duality comes sharply into focus when she recalls her flight from Paris to Bangkok. In that memory, the timid young wife disappears, replaced by a playful, flirtatious girl who seduces one man mid-flight. But as we see her looking for this man, she became the victim of her own game. Open sexuality is often read as an invitation for men to exploit women, and a passenger who has witnessed her flirtations seizes his opportunity. He waits for her at her most vulnerable, waking her from sleep and forcing himself upon her. The encounter underscores a brutal reality—the instrumentalization of female sexuality for male pleasure—and exposes that once a woman shows desire, she is treated as available to all.

If we go back to the beginning of this movie, Jean insists he never married Emmanuelle to have her to himself, dismissing jealousy as outdated. He claim to love her for her beauty and want to share it with the rest of the world. He encourage her to explore her sexuality. Later, we see her guided by an older man, a figure of authority and experience, who is literally taking her by the arm to show her the power of her femininity. In a strange scene, he leads her to a room full of half-naked, smoking men, makes two of them fight for her, and has her on her knees for the winner. Then, Emmanuelle spends a night with another woman. She says nothing to Jean, discover love with a woman and seems at peace—an intimacy free from the violent, decadent encounters previously shown with men. And as she is there, Jean doesn’t like it anymore. “This don’t look like Emmanuelle”. The moment she takes control of her own desire, doing something outside the script he expects, he’s scared, hungry and seek revenge. We see a portrait of men who claim to love and respect women, but in reality, have the power and give other men the permission to use control over a woman’s body. When women assert agency and explore safe intimacy, that freedom becomes threatening. The movie reinforces this metaphor throughout the house: wooden walls resemble bars, chairs feel like cages, and even the bed is enclosed by draped sheets. She is trapped, and he holds the key; her freedom is an illusion—she is a prey in the jungle, she must obey and meet certain conditions.

Conditional Freedom: Women are allowed certain liberties—sexual exploration, self-expression, or desire—only when it fits within boundaries defined by men or societal norms. Stepping outside those expectations triggers fear, control, or punishment.

Objectification and Control: Even in contexts framed as “liberated,” women’s bodies are often treated as objects for male pleasure. Their sexual agency is co-opted, monitored, or exploited, reinforcing male dominance despite the appearance of freedom.

Binary Judgments of Desire: Society labels women as either “innocent” or “promiscuous,” creating a paradox where any assertion of sexual autonomy is perceived as threatening. This binary restricts authentic exploration of desire and reinforces patriarchal power over women’s choices.

Even though this movie made a lot of noise at the time, it is boring, unsettling, and the story barely makes sense, serving only as an excuse to showcase a young, shy girl without taboos. It’s clearly a film made by men for men, offering not female liberation, but a perfect illustration of male control over women’s sexuality showing how societal and patriarchal structures confine female sexuality even within the guise of liberation.

• Director: Just Jaeckin
• Screenwriter: Jean-Louis Richard (adapted from the novel by Emmanuelle Arsan)
• Cast:
  • Sylvia Kristel
  • Alain Cuny
  • Marika Green
  • Christine Boisson