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Directed by the prolific B-movie auteur Joe D’Amato (under the pseudonym "John B. Root"), Tarzan X is a bizarre, often tedious, yet strangely fascinating time capsule. It’s important to set expectations immediately: this is not a film for fans of Burroughs’ novels, Disney animation, or even competent filmmaking. This is a film for connoisseurs of the so-bad-it’s-compelling, the lurid, and the unintentionally hilarious.
Enter the villains: a group of sleazy treasure hunters led by a man named Mr. X (no relation to the title, or maybe all the relation?), who are searching for a legendary golden idol. Their plan involves capturing Tarzan’s female companion, a scantily clad native woman named Sharmaine (Cindy Leadbetter). What follows is a series of captures, escapes, jungle chases, and – most importantly – frequent, extended softcore interludes.
Is it worth your time? That depends entirely on your tolerance for 90s softcore aesthetics and your ability to laugh at incompetence. As a piece of erotic cinema, it fails – it’s not sexy, it’s awkward. As an action film, it fails – the stunts are pathetic. As a Tarzan adaptation, it’s an insult to the source material.
Let’s address the elephant – or rather, the erect gorilla – in the room. Tarzan X is essentially a 95-minute vehicle for softcore sex scenes padded with jungle footage. The erotic sequences, which are plentiful, are shot with the same flat lighting and static camera work as the dialogue scenes. There is little passion; instead, there is a clinical, almost mechanical quality to them. Siffredi, known for his intense performances in adult cinema, seems oddly subdued here, going through the motions as if waiting for a paycheck. The female leads, while conventionally attractive, are given nothing to work with besides breathy sighs and strategically placed foliage.
However, as a spectacle of failure ? It’s a masterpiece. Tarzan X is the cinematic equivalent of finding a moldy, half-eaten sandwich in a rented VHS case – it’s gross, confusing, and you can’t look away. Rocco Siffredi’s Tarzan may not conquer the jungle or your heart, but he will forever swing awkwardly through the low-rent canopy of bad movie history.
Is it worth your time? That depends entirely on your tolerance for 90s softcore aesthetics and your ability to laugh at incompetence. As a piece of erotic cinema, it fails – it’s not sexy, it’s awkward. As an action film, it fails – the stunts are pathetic. As a Tarzan adaptation, it’s an insult to the source material. Directed by the prolific B-movie auteur Joe D’Amato
Let’s address the elephant – or rather, the erect gorilla – in the room. Tarzan X is essentially a 95-minute vehicle for softcore sex scenes padded with jungle footage. The erotic sequences, which are plentiful, are shot with the same flat lighting and static camera work as the dialogue scenes. There is little passion; instead, there is a clinical, almost mechanical quality to them. Siffredi, known for his intense performances in adult cinema, seems oddly subdued here, going through the motions as if waiting for a paycheck. The female leads, while conventionally attractive, are given nothing to work with besides breathy sighs and strategically placed foliage. This is a film for connoisseurs of the
However, as a spectacle of failure ? It’s a masterpiece. Tarzan X is the cinematic equivalent of finding a moldy, half-eaten sandwich in a rented VHS case – it’s gross, confusing, and you can’t look away. Rocco Siffredi’s Tarzan may not conquer the jungle or your heart, but he will forever swing awkwardly through the low-rent canopy of bad movie history.
