Semiramis, a powerful and beautiful Assyrian queen, oversees the construction of the luxurious city of Babylon. She falls in love with Kir, a fallen prince turned into a slave who corresponds to her love. But a palace conspiracy will make the two lovers separate and confront each other.

Parigi O Cara is probably the most camp in the history of Italian cinema, certainly a favourite with the queer community who quote its lines by heart. Unique as it's the only film where Franca Valeri (now 90) is the unquestioned star, in the role of Delia, a snobbish, stingy prostitute who is moving to Paris looking for greener and more lucrative pastures. An anti-neorealist, amoral, almost abstract comedy, which anticipates Almodóvar, a ferocious, though gentle, non-moralistic portrayal of the 60's boom and its broken dreams. The dialogue between Delia and her brother (played by Fiorenzo Fiorentini), when he does (or does not) tell her he is a homosexual, is memorable, a primordial coming-out, a masterpiece of allusions. But what makes it one of the first examples of a film with a "gay point of view" is the approach: perceptive, non-conformist, caustically witty. A film ahead of its times, still unbeaten.

Marco Trevisan returns to his hometown hoping to be greeted with a welcome party but is instead attacked and captured by Turkish pirates led by the brutal Rabanek.

An Italian variation on the Frankie & Annette-Gidget beach party movies that were all the rage in North America in the early 60s. Nicole Molino (Catherine Spaak) and Nicola Molino (Gianni Garko) are not related to one another. In fact, they don’t even know each other until both are inadvertently assigned the same hotel room on the island of Ischia. Nicole isn’t interested in any hanky-panky, so Nicola reluctantly promises to keep his hands to himself.