Credit: Dangerous Minds / Haven International Pictures (U.S.

I first stumbled across Fuego – Armando Bo’s deliriously unhinged 1969 Argentinian sexploitation fever dream – thanks to none other than ‘Pope of Trash’ himself, John Waters.

If Waters lights a flare and starts raving about a film like it’s a sacred text found in a porno theatre dumpster, you damn well pay attention. Fuego isn’t just worth watching – it’s an emergency broadcast for the deranged and depraved. If you haven’t seen it yet, stop what you’re doing and plunge headfirst into the sweaty, chaotic brilliance of Isabel Sarli in full feral heat.

Trust me, it DOES. NOT. DISAPPOINT.

Fuego stars the outrageously hot and brilliantly captivating Isabel Sarli, who has the sort of “brick shithouse” build that Russ Meyer was so very fond of. Fuego and Meyer’s Vixen would actually make a great “ants in her pants” nymphomania double bill, but a more appropriate match-up might be Female Trouble and Fuego, which was obviously a big influence not only on John Waters but also on Divine.

Much of Dawn Davenport – the character’s fashion sense, walk, and even her bouffant hairdo – appears to be closely modelled on Isabel Sarli. Sarli was also an outrageously hammy actor, and Divine just took her already over-the-top “undulating” acting style and turned the volume up to 11. If you’re not at least curious to see the woman who inspired the divine Divine, why are you even reading this website?

In Fuego, Sarli stars as the sexually insatiable and utterly irresistible Laura, and it’s safe to say she was born for the role. Laura is completely uninhibited – if not entirely unhinged – which gives Sarli ample opportunity to shed her clothes, something she does with joyful frequency. She bounces between flings with men and steamy encounters with her older, reptilian-looking lesbian maid.

A wealthy businessman named Carlos, who is played by director Armando Bo, who also wrote the script and the film’s relentless, over-the-top score, first spots Laura in a beachside tryst and later crosses paths with her at a party hosted by her boyfriend. Before long, Carlos is swept into Laura’s chaotic orbit, clueless as to what he’s signed up for. She flashes strangers in the street, and he’s constantly walking in on her in bed with other men. This happens a lot.

The first half of Fuego is wall-to-wall skin, but the second half shifts gears—it’s talkier, more melodramatic, and completely unhinged. After Carlos nearly strangles an electrician he finds mid-coitus with Laura, she starts to realise that her uncontrollable desires might be ruining their marriage. The couple visit a sex expert to figure out what to do about her “condition”, but things go off the rails fast: during a gynaecological exam, Laura has a thunderous orgasm on the table.

In a last-ditch effort to save her, they travel to New York, where a doctor solemnly informs Carlos that the only cure for Laura’s hypersexuality is… his unconditional love. Right. Good luck with that.

I won’t spoil the ending—though let’s just say it’s fucking crazy—but knowing that Armando Bo and Isabel Sarli made 27 films together, with her rolling around in the nude in every single one, adds an extra layer of psychodrama to Fuego. The two were long-time lovers, though Bo never left his wife, and once you know that, it’s hard not to read something a little twisted into the film. Bo wrote the script himself, casting himself as the cuckolded husband, while also directing scene after scene of Sarli getting her kit off for other men. There’s a voyeuristic kink woven deep into the celluloid here—equal parts desire, guilt, and control.

There’s a certain “cucky” subtext to Fuego, let’s just say and leave it at that.

Waters calls Fuego “a hetero film for gay people to marvel at”, and truly, it’s a movie that covers all the bases. I’d recommend watching it in a group. It’s enjoyable no matter what, but like most “so bad that it’s good” movies, experiencing it for the first time with a bunch of other people is the way to go. If you just saw Fuego cold, with no background information about it, it might take a while to figure out how you’re supposed to react to it.

Armando Bo died in 1981, and with him, Sarli’s singular brand of oversexed cinematic delirium came to a close. But like all great icons of transgressive cinema, she refused to fade quietly. Over time, Sarli became a cult goddess, beloved for her boldness, her camp appeal, and the sheer chaotic beauty of her films. In 2018, John Waters – her most devoted American disciple – finally got to meet her when he presented Fuego in Argentina. A year later, she was gone, aged 89, leaving behind a legacy of glorious, unhinged cinema that defied every rule in the book.

In the clip below from John Waters Presents Movies That Will Corrupt You, the Pope of Trash himself sings Sarli’s praises and admits what we already suspected: he didn’t just love Fuego—he flat-out stole from it.