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Most adult films treat plot as a necessary annoyance. Ribald Tales treats the plot as the main event. One segment, a direct parody of The Miller’s Tale (the story of the carpenter, his young wife, and the clerk Absolon), plays out as pure farce. The infamous scene involving a “kiss” through a window—which in Chaucer involves a bare backside—is translated to screen with a slapstick timing that Buster Keaton would appreciate. The actors commit to the physical comedy before the physical intimacy, making the explicitness feel like the punchline to a very old joke.
It is a reminder that long before streaming algorithms reduced movies to “content,” someone in 1985 spent months building a fake English tavern, stitching a velvet tunic, and rehearsing iambic pentameter just to make a movie about a fart joke and a stolen kiss. The Ribald Tales Of Canterbury -1985- -Classic-
Current digital archives (legal and otherwise) host murky transfers, but the cult following remains active. Fans argue over the “director’s cut” vs. the “hard cut,” as several versions exist with varying levels of explicitness to bypass local censorship boards in 1985. If you are looking for hardcore efficiency, look elsewhere. The Ribald Tales of Canterbury is slow. The candlelight is dim. The wigs are obvious. The dialogue is delivered with a theatrical hamminess that borders on pantomime. Most adult films treat plot as a necessary annoyance
What makes the 1985 version remarkable is its fidelity to the spirit of Chaucer. The dialogue is not modern slang; it is delivered in a campy, pseudo-Elizabethan patois. Characters yell things like, “By my troth, thy beard doth hide a lecher’s chin!” before ripping each other’s corsets off. The keyword “Classic” attached to this film is not ironic. Within its specific genre—the historical erotic comedy— The Ribald Tales of Canterbury achieves a trifecta of excellence: production value, script, and performance. The infamous scene involving a “kiss” through a
In the vast shadow of Geoffrey Chaucer’s 14th-century masterpiece, The Canterbury Tales , lies a peculiar, forgotten stepchild of the home video era: The Ribald Tales of Canterbury (1985) . For decades, this title has languished in the dusty bins of “adult content” and cult obscurity. Yet, to dismiss it as mere pornography is to miss the point entirely. This film is a time capsule—a loving, hilarious, and surprisingly literary attempt to translate Chaucer’s bawdiest stories into a distinctly 1980s visual language.
However, if you are looking for a artifact—a film that uses Chaucer’s centuries-old framework to explore the timeless human obsession with sex as a joke, a weapon, and a game—this is essential viewing.
Unlike the grainy, shot-on-video smut of the late 80s, this film was shot on 35mm celluloid. The sets, while obviously soundstages, are rich with tapestries, faux-stone walls, and genuine wooden mugs. The costumes are surprisingly accurate for a low-budget feature; the Wife of Bath wears a genuine-looking wimple and scarlet hose, signaling her vanity and wealth. This attention to texture gives the film a dreamlike, Playboy-feature quality that modern digital shoots lack.