THE DEMONS (1973)

Jess Franco, 1973

Starring: Britt Nichols, Anne Libert, Howard Vernon, Karin Field

Redemption and Images’ latest Blu-ray release, Les demons aka The Demons (1973), is a welcome addition to their growing catalog of Jess Franco films, which include Nightmares Come at Night, The Awful Dr. Orloff, A Virgin Among the Living Dead, and more. Though it is one of the late, beloved Spanish director’s more obscure entries, The Demons is a welcome addition to any Franco fan’s collection, as it finally presents the complete, uncensored version of the film for the first time in the U.S.

The film opens with the torture of a witch, who is later burned at the stake and curses those responsible for her demise. The plot is convoluted, but it focuses on two orphaned sisters, now adults living in a convent. The blonde and innocent Margaret (Britt Nichols) disapproves of her sister Kathleen (Anne Libert), who masturbates and has sex dreams. A local aristocrat, the Lady De Winter (Karin Field) convinces the convent that Kathleen is a witch and is possessed by the Devil. As such, she must torture her for her confession with the help of her right-hand man, Thomas Renfield (Alberto Dalbés). Renfield quickly falls in love with Kathleen and allows her to escape. Enraged, Lady De Winter insists that Inquisitor Lord Justice Jeffreys ( Cihangir Gaffari) punish Renfield, but he gives the man a chance to bring Kathleen back. Instead, he runs off with Kathleen and the two are eventually caught, imprisoned, and nearly tortured to death.

It turns out that the two girls are the daughters of the witch burned at the stake years ago. The innocent Margaret is visited by the Devil while still in the convent and is raped by him. Now possessed by his diabolical will, she is determined to get revenge on anyone who has punished her sister or mother. She pays a visit to the home of Lady De Winter and quickly worms her way into the Lady’s good graces, which kicks off an orgy of sex and death.

While Franco may have been riding the coattails of Ken Russell’s masterpiece The Devils, The Demons is fortunately not a direct rip off of that film. Early on, it seems like it’s going to be a fairly straightforward nunsploitation film, but dramatically veers from that path into more traditional witch-hunting territory with torture, exploitation, political machinations, and plenty of sex. It actually pairs up more closely with films like Witchfinder General, Franco’s The Bloody Judge, and Mark of the Devil. The Devils notwithstanding, this is probably the most erotic witch-hunting film of the period and puts far more of an emphasis on sex than it does on violence.

As with many of Franco’s other films, there is also a nod to his love of the female revenge film. As with She Killed in Ecstasy, Venus in Furs, and many others, Margaret spends much of the film seducing and then killing anyone she plans to get revenge on, including Lady De Winter. In a somewhat bizarre move, she kills them and then plants a supernatural kiss, so that her victims smoke and dissolve to just a skeleton. Franco never bothers explaining this.

Admittedly, this does have much more of a straightforward plot than a lot of Franco’s other films from the same period with far fewer nonsequitors in the plot. There is an excessive amount of soft-core sex and female masturbation scenes that seem to go on forever, not necessarily helped by the constant use of the zoom lens. As far as gore or violence, the torture scenes are pretty lackluster. The majority of the effects go towards Margaret’s supernatural kisses, which are seemingly thrown in for good measure

This is a period piece really at face value only. The historical accuracy is laughable, particularly where the costumes are concerned. There’s a dash of political intrigue that focuses on William of Orange’s rebellion and subsequent British invasion, but this gets little more than a mention. The real strength of this production is in the acting. Franco regular Anne Libert (A Virgin Among the Living Dead) is lovely as the wanton Kathleen, though she is quickly overshadowed by the incredibly sexy Britt Nichols (The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein), who costars as her murderous sister. Karin Field (The Mad Butcher, Web of the Spider) is lovely and gleefully malevolent as the sadistic Lady De Winter, one of the film’s most compelling characters.

The strong and interesting roles essentially all went to the female characters. Franco regular Howard Vernon (Zombie Lake, Bob le Flambeur) is delightful in a small role, though both he and Cihangir Gaffari (Bloodsport) as the handsome, though callous Inquisitor are essentially wasted. Other Franco regular Luis Barboo (Conan the Barbarian, The Case of the Scorpion’s Tale) and Alberto Dalbés (A Quiet Place to Kill, Cut-Throats Nine) also put in nice performances.

Redemption’s latest Jess Franco release is certainly a more obscure entry, but it looks fantastic. The 1080p HD transfer with as aspect ratio of 2.25:1 is one of Franco’s cleanest looking prints and was transferred from the original 35mm negative. It has certainly aged better than recent releases like Nightmares Come at Night, and suffers from none of the age damage and speckling present in some of his other films from the period. The only real flaw is that the print can occasionally look soft and a bit fuzzy, but I think is more an issue with the cinematography than with the transfer.

The linear PCM 2.0 audio track sounds decent with clear audio and effects, though it is a little underwhelming. The inclusion of the original French audio track is certainly a bonus. There are optional English subtitles included, as well as a German language track. One way Franco’s stamp found its way into the film is with the wild, jazzy soundtrack, with prog rock stylings totally out of place in a medieval period piece. Composed by Jean-Berbard Raiteux (Diary of a Nymphomaniac), there are some frenzied bongos during the sex and masturbation scenes that make it clear this is most definitely a Franco film.

There aren’t an abundance of extras with this release, but Redemption did provide a nice, 16-minute interview with Jess Franco, some deleted scenes, and a handful of trailers. It really would have been nice to have a commentary track, particularly one placing this film both within the witch-hunting and nunsploitation subgenres that were so popular during this ‘70s.

Perhaps because it is one of the most atypical Jess Franco films of the ‘70s, The Demons will likely appeal to a fairly wide range of horror fans. Though this lacks the more surreal, nonsensical, and dreamlike elements of films like A Virgin Among the Living Dead and Nightmares Come at Night, it is a must-see for Franco fans. Anyone interested in witch-hunting films and nunsploitation will also find a lot to love. The film’s arrival on Blu-ray uncut and with the original French language track more than makes up for a lack of special features, and the release comes recommended. Hopefully Redemption and Image will keep up the good work and continue moving through Franco’s catalogue. 

NIGHTMARES COME AT NIGHT

Jess Franco, 1970
Starring: Diana Lorys, Colette Giacobine, Paul Muller

Les cauchemars naissent la nuit aka Nightmares Come At Night is one of three Jess Franco films that Kino and Redemption are releasing on Blu-ray in the wake of Franco’s death earlier this year. Only originally distributed in Belgium, the film was believed to be lost for several decades until a print was discovered in the mid ‘00s. Though there was a Shriek Show DVD released a few years ago, Kino and Redemption have lovingly restored the film and included a number of nice special features that make this a must have for fans of Franco or Eurohorror.

Anna (Diana Lorys), an erotic dancer, fears she is losing her mind. Her manipulative lover, Colette (Colette Giacobine), forces her to stay at their mansion home and insists that her psychiatrist friend, Dr. Lucas (Paul Muller), regularly visit Anna. She has reoccurring nightmares about killing a man and begins to doubt Colette’s affection and intentions. Meanwhile, a man and a woman spy on the house from next door, patiently waiting. 

Nightmares Come At Night is somewhat difficult to review, because while I loved the film, it is an acquired taste and many others will no doubt find it frustrating, boring, and difficult to follow. There is little in the way of conventional plot structure, but I found the film to be a compelling mystery nonetheless. It is almost hypnotic, drawing you towards the somewhat surprising and violent, yet almost anticlimactic conclusion. The atmospheric and visual splendor make the film well worth checking out, particularly if you are a fan of Franco, Jean Rollin, or more obscure Eurohorror. Though this is his lowest budget film, it still looks beautiful and is really only hampered by a series of lengthy shots from the inside of a car. 

Voyeuristic, erotic, slow, and dreamlike, this isn’t one of Franco’s best films, but it is a hidden treasure worth seeing for fans of his less linear, more introspective works. As Tim Lucas mentions in his commentary, it is interesting to think of the film in terms of a progression in Franco’s career. Many themes here are certainly found in other films, such as brain washing and mind control, and Nightmares Come At Night bears much in common with Succubus. Franco also regularly uses characters and side characters who are erotic performers. 

While this film is somewhat similar to the plots of Fulci’s Lizard in a Woman’s Skin, Sergio Martino’s All the Colors of the Dark, and Franco’s A Virgin Among the Living Dead, and features a woman on the verge of losing her mind, plagued by nightmares and hallucination, it is far less linear than any of those films. At first I was skeptical about the opening credits, which are essentially a collage of scenes from throughout the film, but it makes a lot more sense the second time around. Franco’s use of dream sequences, moments that could potentially be hallucinations or memories, and some hazy sex scenes greatly contribute to the thin plot, which is not totally revealed to us until the end of the film. 

Nightmares Come At Night benefits from some great performances, particularly star Diana Lorys, who is really given an opportunity to shine, though she had smaller roles in some of Franco’s other films (namely The Bloody Judge) and gave a good performance in one of my favorite Spanish horror films, Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll. She is naked or partially naked for nearly the entire film and is incredibly vulnerable throughout. Paul Muller (I, Vampiri) is also excellent and gives a complex, sensitive performance. The lovely Soledad Miranda makes a welcome appearance. Though she isn’t in the film long, she spends much of the time lounging around bottomless in a room with “Life Is All Shit,” written messily on the wall. These scenes were shot during the filming of Eugenie de Sade, which is why they almost look like they belong to a completely different film. 

Where Franco uses a lot of his normal elements here - voice over narration, mirror images, framing, and reflection - they work together very well for a much more mature, poetic film than some of his flashier horror or erotic efforts. Though there is some violence, much of it is subdued and the use of blood is sparing. Be forewarned that the film is full of almost constant nudity, frequent sex scenes, and a lengthy, if somewhat boring strip tease. 

With a 1.66:1 aspect ration and 1080p AVC print, Nightmares Come at Night looks lovely in certain scenes, but suffers from a lot of filming issues and age damage. There are a number of scenes that are almost black, making key parts of the plot confusing, and many that suffer from extreme grain, particularly the dream sequences. I’m sure it will never look better than this and it would be easy to watch the film and feel a sense of nostalgia at some of the faded colors and age issues. We are lucky to have this film on Blu-ray at all and any fault is due to the existing 35mm print. 

While there are two audio tracks available, a French LPCM Mono track with English subtitles and an English dub, the latter is simply not worth watching. The French mix is just far superior and gives the film a more natural flow. The audio is clear, particularly the infrequent dialogue, though there is some obvious age damage and occasional hissing and crackling, but not to an annoying or distracting level. Bruno Nicolai’s score, though not quite as thrilling as his work on A Virgin Among the Living Dead, still sounds wonderful and benefits the film with some very diverse themes. 

As with all three of the Franco titles Redemption has recently released on Blu-ray, Nightmares Come at Night has a number of excellent special features. First and best among them is the thoughtful and informative commentary from Video Watchdog’s Tim Lucas. While most people may not want to watch Franco’s films two times in a row, I have been unable to resist doing this to listen to the commentary tracks, which are indispensable. Also included is "Eugenie's Nightmare of a Sex Charade," a twenty minute documentary about the making of the film with a number of valuable interviews, including a vintage one with Franco. "Jess! Where Are You Now?" is the tribute feature included on all three of these releases and "About the Master" is an interesting short piece narrated by Bret Wood about transforming Nightmares Come At Night into HD. 

While Nightmares Come at Night is not for everyone, it is a special film and is one of Franco’s most obscure, dreamlike efforts. If you enjoy films about madness, mind control, dreams, memory, and hallucination, this comes highly recommended. With their Blu-ray releases of this film, A Virgin Among the Living Dead, and The Awful Dr. Orloff, Kino and Redemption have really done Franco (and his fans) a great service and all three of these are must haves for Franco fans and anyone who enjoys more adventurous horror and erotic cinema. 

A VIRGIN AMONG THE LIVING DEAD

Jess Franco, 1973

Starring: Howard Vernon, Christina von Blanc, Britt Nichols, Anne Libert

Prolific Spanish director, actor, and writer (and much more) Jess Franco sadly passed away early in 2013. Though his catalogue is largely an acquired taste, he is one of the most important figures of Eurohorror and each of his films, no matter how small the budget, are marked with his indelible personal style. Kino and Redemption are honoring his sizable contributions to genre cinema, including horror, erotica, women in prison films, crime and spy movies, and many more, by releasing a few of his films on Blu-ray. A Virgin Among the Living Dead (1973) is one of Franco’s better known efforts, combining horror, erotica, lovely ladies, lush visuals and a surreal plot. 

Originally known as The Night the Stars Died (La nuit des étoiles foilantes), Christina, Princess of Eroticism aka A Virgin Among the Living Dead is the loosely plotted tale of a young woman, the titular Christina, who returns to her isolated family estate after the death of her father. She hasn't seem him or any of her family members since childhood and was raised at a boarding school. Locals insist the estate is abandoned, but she finds the house full of her somewhat creepy extended family, led by her Uncle Howard. After her father’s will is read and she is plagued by frequent nightmares, Christina learns her family members are actually dead. She is forced to endure a number of bizarre scenarios, including a sexual assault that ends in a satanic ritual, zombies rising from the earth, and odd conversations with a blind girl who wanders the mansion. Christina witnesses a fair amount of sex, including an erotic scenes involving blood and scissors, and more. 

Despite its low budget, the film benefits from a beautiful Portuguese setting, the lovely house, some unforgettable imagery, and cinematography from Jose Climent. As with some of Franco’s other works, this doesn't follow logic or linear storytelling in a particularly faithful way and the film feels like half fairy-tale, half nightmare, which will please some viewers but frustrate many more. While the pace sometimes moves slowly, the film is packed with odd events that keep things moving towards the melancholic conclusion. There is also a surprising amount of black comedy, including one wonderful scene during a funeral where a bored character paints her toenails.

Christina von Blanc is lovely as the titular Christina, but fails to take the place of Franco’s former leading lady, Soledad Miranda. Though she isn't a particularly compelling actress, she serves the role well and wanders the film looking suitably doe-eyed and anxious. Franco regular Britt Nichols as Christina’s chain-smoking cousin Carmencé and Anne Libert (Diary of a Nymphomaniac) as the Queen of the Night are particularly beautiful, welcome inclusions in the somewhat odd cast. Franco himself plays the creepy Basilio and his regular lead Howard Vernon (The Awful Dr. Orloff) is compelling as Uncle Howard. Ernesto Pablo Reiner (The Devil’s Commandment) is only on screen briefly, but he is memorable as Christina’s dead father. 

In his commentary track for the film, Tim Lucas notes the similarities between the plot of this film and Bava’s magical Lisa and the Devil, a haunting, surreal meditation on death. Like Bava’s late masterpiece, Christina may be disjointed and nonsensical, but it is a deeply personal reflection on death, depression, and grief. Soledad Miranda died a few years before this, in 1970, and she was undoubtedly still on Franco’s mind during the writing and filming of Christina. The suicide of Christina’s father and her longing for family, regardless of how odd and sometimes menacing they are, lingers throughout the film and provides something of a grounding point in the midst of the dreamlike story. It is often difficult to tell what is real and what's happening in Christina's mind, whether we are dealing with fantasy, dreams, nightmares, or, as we later learn is a possibility, Christina’s hallucinations. 

Presented with a 1080p resolution from an MPEG-4 AVX codec and the original aspect ratio of 1.66:1, A Virgin Among the Living Dead looks better than it ever has. One of the things I respect so much about the Kino and Redemption Blu-ray releases is that their remastering is all natural and is simply intended to make ‘60s and ‘70s cult films look as good as possible without the flat texture often left behind by digital remastering. As a result, both prints of the film do have some age damage, namely debris and scratches, but once the opening sequence has passed, it is not really noticeable. Franco’s colors look wonderful and balanced and overall the film is incredibly clear. There are moments of muddiness and some blurring during darker scenes, but they are likely due to the cinematography. 

The real treat here is that Kino and Redemption provide both versions of the film. Christina, Princess of Eroticism is essentially Franco’s first complete cut of the film and is the version I prefer. A few years after it came out, during the European zombie craze, extra scenes were shot by French horror-erotica director Jean Rollin and cut in. This version is known as the wonderfully titled, A Virgin Among the Living Dead. There is yet another softcore version, sort of Christina version 1.5, with more scenes of erotic cut in, and some of this extra footage is included in the special features. 

There are two LPCM 2.0 Mono tracks, the original French track, with optional English subtitles, and an English dub. I watched both and while I generally don’t prefer dubbing, the English track isn't that bad. Though there is some slight hissing and a few other age related issues, the film sounds great, certainly better than past releases. Dialogue is clear in both the English and French versions. The real star here is Bruno Nicolai’s impressive and wide ranging score that perfectly matches Franco’s film. As Tim Lucas states in his commentary track, Nicolai and Franco had an excellent working relationship and Nicolai often encouraged Franco (a musician in his own right) to contribute to the score arrangement. There are some jazzy, Goblin-like moments, but overall Nicolai’s score is haunting and ethereal. It also benefits from Ennio Morricone collaborator Edda Dell’Orso’s vocals.  

There are some nice extras, chief among them a great commentary track from Tim Lucas. It not only explains many elements of the production and Franco’s career, but may shed some light on the film itself if you find the limited plot frustrating or confusing. Also included is “Mysterious Dreams,” one of Franco’s final interviews where he discusses A Virgin Among the Living Dead. There is also a five minute compilation of extra softcore erotic footage. “The Three Faces of Christina” discusses the different versions of the film and “Jess! What Are You Doing Now?” is a sad, but heartwarming tribute to Franco where his friends discuss what they think he is doing after death. 

A Virgin Among the Living Dead is certainly acquired taste, but if you enjoy more surreal and introspective horror with an emphasis on eroticism and black humor, it comes highly recommended. Kino and Redemption have really outdone themselves with this release and it is the only way you can currently see the two major versions of the film together and on Blu-ray. This release, along with equally excellent Blu-rays of Franco’s less seen Nightmares Come at Night and his more popular The Awful Dr. Orloff, is a fitting tribute for Franco and I hope to see many more of his titles from Kino and Redemption. 

SHE KILLED IN ECSTASY

Jess Franco, 1971
Starring: Susann Korda (aka Soledad Miranda), Fred Williams, Paul Muller, Howard Vernon, Ewa Stromberg, Horst Tappert, Jess Franco

She Killed in Ecstasy  is a sort of sister film to another Franco-Miranda production I've already reviewed, Vampyros Lesbos. It has a handful of the same actors and is also a Spanish-West German production. Hueber and Schwab, the musicians who composed the amazing score for Vampyros Lesbos, also scored this film. And like Vampyros Lesbos, She Killed in Ecstasy has a meandering, nonsensical narrative structure, but works on the strength of Soledad Miranda's performance, charisma, and visual appeal.

A doctor (the sexy Fred Williams, a Franco regular) is criticized and alienated for his experimental research that involves human fetuses, which leads to his suicide. His wife, very much in love with him and driven a little insane by his death, gets bloody vengeance on the team of doctors who drove him to death. Unsurprisingly, she dons a number of paltry disguises and seduces the men (and one woman), hypnotizing, deceiving, and then killing them. There is some random necrophilia, which is effectively creepy and also sadly sweet. The death scenes are completely implausible, but it doesn't matter within the loosely surreal narrative world of Franco’s film.

As with many of Franco’s films, this is a rehashing of familiar themes and includes elements from his enjoyable Venus in Furs with Klaus Kinski. He reused much of the same crew from Vampyros Lesbos, which explains the similarly robust (and very ‘70s) sense of style. I don’t think this was a direct influence on Franco, but lately I’ve been reading a lot of Cornell Woolrich novels, particularly his “Black” series and its themes of obsessive love and murder. Woolrich has several characters who lose a loved one (the death is usually accidental) and then going a killing spree to get revenge for his/her death. Truffaut adapted the first of these – The Bride Wore Black – and She Killed in Ecstasy has a similar, if campier and more exploitative feel.

There is a sort of je ne sais quoi at work that I am completely unable to explain. This film, along with Vampyros Lesbos, is slow and dream-like and operates on some sort of otherworldly Eurotrash reality. There is an air of genuine sadness that is absent from most "black widow" killer type of films. Soledad Miranda is lovely and charismatic and, fortunately, is in almost every shot. Also fortunately, the film is short, running about 80 minutes, so anyone who doesn’t generally have a whole lot of patience for Eurohorror may want to give this a chance. It comes across more as a series of sexy, murderous vignettes than a particularly coherent narrative film.

In addition to Miranda, who steals the film, as always, there are some nice appearances from other Franco regulars. Paul Muller, the always-enjoyable Howard Vernon, Horst Tappert, and Ewa Stromberg (also in Vampyros Lesbos) do a decent job here, though the dialogue and script is all over the place. Franco himself also makes a cameo here as one of the malicious doctors. 

I'm reviewing the Synapse DVD, which is out of print. The Image DVD is basically the same, but remastered, so it has a slightly better print, but nothing mind-blowing. I recommend this film if you like Franco and Soledad Miranda, or if you enjoy Eurotrash. This is a bit faster paced than Vampyros Lesbos, so Franco newbies or sceptics might do alright checking this one out. I think it is one of his most accessible films and one of the most enjoyable female-centered revenge-horror films of the ‘70s. 

VAMPYROS LESBOS

Jess Franco, 1971
Starring: Soledad Miranda, Ewa Stromberg, Dennis Price, Jose Martinez Blanco, Andres Monales

Linda (Jess Franco regular Ewa Stromberg) begins to have disturbing dreams about a mysterious woman (Franco’s first muse, Soledad Miranda). She encounters the woman during a strange striptease show in a club and again later when her job as a lawyer takes her out to a Mediterranean island. The beautiful woman is Countess Carody, who holds a dangerous, erotic sway over Linda. It turns out that Carody is the heir of Dracula and has her vampiric, lesbian designs fixed on Linda. Will she drive Linda mad, turn her into a vampire, or sacrifice her own, immortally perfect body and spare Linda out of love?

Vampyros Lesbos is undoubtedly an acquired taste – as are all of director Jess Franco’s films – but those who enjoy slow, dreamy, arty horror films will find a lot to love here, namely the performance of the exquisite Soledad Miranda (Count Dracula, She Killed in Ecstasy). Miranda is certainly one of the sexiest women of ‘70s cinema and was Franco’s muse until her unfortunate, early death as the result of a car accident. Though Ewa Stromberg (She Killed in Ecstasy, The Devil Came from Aksava) is enjoyable, she doesn’t hold a candle to Miranda. There are also average performances from Dennis Price (Kind Hearts and Coronets), Franco regular Paul Müller (I Vampiri, Count Dracula), and an uncredited cameo from Franco himself. 

The plot is supposedly based on Bram Stoker’s story "Dracula's Guest," which I’ve read a handful of times. Vampyros Lesbos has about the same connection to "Dracula's Guest" that Dracula, The Dirty Old Man has to Stoker's novel. Franco does take a number of strange liberties with vampire myth, including one scene where Carody sits outside, sunbathing, and doesn’t burst into flame or turn into a pile of ashes. Her ridiculous manservant, Morpho, adds another element of the strange and surreal to the proceedings. There is also a Renfield-like character, a girl named Agra housed in an asylum who looks remarkably similar to Linda. Apparently her obsession with Carody drove her mad.

Like many of Franco’s other films, plot is secondary to style and surrealism. Perhaps frustratingly, there are a lot of random images and shots throughout the film of objects that relate, in no way, to the story as a whole, such as shots of a kite or a boat. If you’ve seen enough Franco films, this isn’t unusual, but it is likely to confuse Franco newbies. Both sleeping and waking dreams have a constant presence in his films and this one is no exception.

Like many of Franco’s films, Vampyros Lesbos is deeply flawed, and yet I enjoyed it despite (or perhaps because of) these issues. A lot of things work against the film, such as the dialogue, but it has a certain surreal charm that soaks through most of Franco's work. Soledad Miranda has an inexplicable sort of charisma where she can say nothing, do little, and as long as she's on screen you can’t help but watch her. This film defies logic. I really enjoyed it, but I have no idea why. I’ve read plenty of reviews where the critic passionately hated it, but, again, Franco’s work has always been an acquired taste. 

This West German-Spanish coproduction with a Turkish setting is very stylish and is a delightful reminder of jazzy, ‘70s flavor. The Turkish sets are lovely and there’s some excellent cinematography. The dubbing is absolutely appalling, but that shouldn’t surprise fans of Eurohorror, where the productions are generally made up of actors from all over Europe speaking dozens of languages on set. 

Vampyros Lesbos comes highly recommended to fans of other Eurohorror fans. If you’re new to the subgenre, chance are you will either love it or fall asleep. I do, however, highly recommend the amazing psychedelic jazz score by Manfred Huebler and Siegfried Schwab, released on CD as Vampyros Lesbos: Sexadelic Dance Party. 

There is no definitive print of this film. I'm reviewing the out of print German-language Synapse region 1 release, though from what I understand the Image region 1, which is currently in print, is the same, dubbed in English instead of German. This isn't really the type of film where it matters what print you get, just beware of a version called Las Vampiras, which is the cut version. And no one in their right mind wants to watch a Jess Franco movie with less nudity. 

THE AWFUL DR. ORLOF

Jess Franco, 1962
Starring: Howard Vernon, Diana Lorys, Perla Cristal, Richard Valle

Allegedly the first Spanish horror film, The Awful Dr. Orlof (1962) aka Gritos en la noche is one of Jess Franco’s finest films, and though there are thematic similarities, bears little in common with his later, more surreal and erotic works. Kino Lorber and Redemption have released a trilogy of his films on Blu-ray in the wake of the director’s death earlier this year, including the obscure Nightmares Come At Night and A Virgin Among the Living Dead. The Awful Dr. Orlof is undoubtedly the most accessible of these films and should be seen by all horror fans, regardless of how they feel about the late, great, and often difficult to fathom director.

Former prison doctor, the demented Orlof, uses his deformed, blind assistant Morpho to kidnap, torture, and murder lovely young women. His ultimate goal is to restoring the face of his once beautiful, but badly burned daughter, Melissa, who he keeps locked up in a caged room while he desperately tries to heal her. A local police officer, Inspector Tanner, is put on the case when over five women are kidnapped and his plucky ballet dancer fiancée, Wanda, decides to help him out when his investigation plods along. Unfortunately for Wanda, she bears a startling resemblance to Orlof’s daughter and attracts his unsavory attention...

As I said above, this is likely the Jess Franco film that even steadfast Franco-haters will enjoy. It benefits from a wonderful atmosphere that combines traditional Gothic visuals with a Belle Epoque setting and there are numerous shots of Orlof’s creepy castle and laboratory, fog, cobble-stoned streets, candelabras, etc. Orlof uses a coffin to transport unconscious women to his castle and his methods of torture and medical experimentation get far more extreme as the film goes on. 

While the plot borrows a lot from Georges Franju’s seminal Eyes Without a Face (1960), I agree with Tim Lucas (in his commentary) that Franco was also likely influenced by the urban murder mysteries of Edgar Wallace, particularly The Dead Eyes of London, which involves a murderous blind henchman very similar to Morpho. The Dead Eyes of London (1961) was adaptation for both the British and German screen, though German Edgar Wallace adaptations, known as krimi, went on to influence the developing giallo genre and likely Franco himself.

There are some decent performances, namely from Diana Lorys (Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll) as Wanda. She would go on to star in Franco’s Nightmares Come At Night and here bears a striking resemblance to French actress Yvonne Monlaur from Hammer’s Brides of Dracula and Circus of Horrors. Perla Cristal is not on screen long, but gives a compelling performance as Orlof’s reluctant former mistress who grows increasingly horrified by his actions. But this is undeniably Howard Vernon’s film. Though he starred or appeared in a number of Franco films, he is excellent as Dr. Orlof, equally suave, charming, creepy, manipulative, and sociopathic. He has the kind of face that is endlessly fascinating, which Franco likely noticed.

Richard Valle doesn’t have a lot to do as Dr. Orlof’s henchman Morpho other than lumber about murderously, but he is surprisingly effective. The make up design is odd and a little silly, and at times he looks like a papier-mâché Marty Feldman, but he is undeniably creepy. His roaming hands, which touch the women he is unable to see, provide a sado-sexual element absent from other films of this time, or, if present, were certainly more subdued. Probably the dullest and least successful elements of the film involve our hero Inspector Tanner (Conrado San Martin) and his scenes interacting with witnesses or other police officers. Lorys steals every scene from him and it is no wonder she takes it upon herself to solve the murders before her bumbling fiancé gets a chance.

The Awful Dr. Orlof is presented on Blu-ray in a nice 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 print that was restored from a complete 35mm negative. As with Redemption’s other titles, the restoration is not intensive and though The Awful Dr. Orlof looks better than it ever has, there are some issues with age damage. There are white flecks and scratches, but they don’t distract from from the print in any noticeable way. Godofredo Pacheo’s lush black and white cinematography looks excellent and the detail rich sets are lovelier than ever. 

Though The Awful Dr. Orlof was originally filmed in Spanish, Redemption presents the original French dub and English dub, which are uncompressed Linear PCM 2.0 mono tracks with optional English subtitles. As with the other recent Redemption Franco releases, I highly recommend the French track over the English, which simply feels stilted and awkward. Either way, the audio is clear and dialogue sounds great. There are some very minimal issues, including occasional hissing and popping, but these are barely noticeable. The wonderful score from Jose Pagan and Antonio Ramirez Angel sounds lovely and is one of the finest elements of The Awful Dr. Orlof. It is equally modern and jazzy, but in its own pleasantly weird way that perfectly fits the tone of the film. 

As with Redemption’s other recent Franco Blu-ray releases, there are some nice extras. There’s yet another excellent audio commentary from Video Watchdog editor Tim Lucas that makes this release well worth purchasing if you already happen to own the film. There is also The Young Dr. Orlof Chronicles, a twenty minute making-of featurette with interviews and behind the scenes info. The Horror of Orlof is a nice interview with Franco about the production. Jess! What Are You Doing Now? is a short collection of interviews with Franco’s friends about his legacy. This is included in both the Nightmares Come at Night and A Virgin Among the Living Dead Blu-rays as well. Also included is a stills gallery and a number of trailers. 

The Awful Dr. Orlof may not feel like a Franco films to his critics, but it is a delightful example of early Spanish horror than blends together some of his regular themes: beautiful, spirited women, performers, mad scientists, voyeurism, characters that futilely hope to recreate the past, horrific henchman, and more. If you are a Franco newbie or skeptic considering revisiting his catalogue, this is an excellent place to start and comes highly recommended. Kino and Redemption have done a lovely job with the Blu-ray transfer and The Awful Dr. Orlof looks better than it ever has. 

RIP Jess Franco

Spanish director Jesús “Jess” Franco passed away this morning at the age of 82 after suffering a stroke last week. Franco was known for his incredible output despite a lack of funding – he directed almost 200 films in a wide range of genres – and his utterly joyous disregard for good taste. His first major film was The Awful Dr. Orloff (1961), a Eurotrash riff on Georges Franju’s subtle surgery horror film Eyes Without a Face (1960). From there he directed horror, erotica, porn, exploitation, women-in-prison films, gialli, crime films, adventures, spy movies, sci-fi, and, my favorite, nunsploitation. He worked with some wonderful actors like Klaus Kinski and Christopher Lee, who claimed that Franco’s Count Dracula was his favorite Dracula adaptation. Franco also made cult stars of his muses, namely Soledad Miranda, who tragically died young, and his second muse, Lina Romay, who became his life partner and wife. She sadly passed away last year from cancer.

Franco’s films never achieved major commercial success and his work is still unknown to mainstream audiences, but he deserves to be recognized as an auteur. Though he worked across a wide range of genres, all of Franco’s films are undoubtedly ingrained with his personal style. His fantastic, often surreal films lovingly celebrated the female nude, and though he made a lot of exploitation films, his cinematic world proved that women were equal to men in games of power, sex, and crime. He loved jazz music and was an accomplished musician in his own right. His films, even the cheapest and most utilitarian among them, are charming and imaginative. I never had the pleasure to meet Franco personally, but I’ve only heard positive things about the man, his zest for life and art, and his desire to live and breathe cinema.

Unlike many other cult directors, Franco’s work was fortunately recognized and celebrated during his life time, particularly in the last decade. His films have begun to turn up on special edition DVD releases and he was given a lifetime achievement award in his home country, Spain. Look for more of some of his previously unavailable films to be released in the upcoming year. If you’re unfamiliar with Franco’s work, here are a few of my favorites to start with: The Awful Dr. Orloff and the Orloff series, Franco’s Fu Manchu films, especially The Castle of Fu Manchu, 99 Women, Justine, Venus in Furs, Count Dracula, Jack the Ripper, Virgin Among the Living Dead, Eugenie, She Killed in Ecstasy, Vampyros Lesbos, Female Vampire, Lorna the Exorcist, and Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun. There are many, many more. If you want to know more about this wonderful man and his imaginative works, check out Cathal Tohill and Pete Tombs’ Immoral Tales: European Sex & Horror Movies 1956-1984. Musician and film critic Stephen Thrower is currently working on a book about Franco and his films.

My thoughts are with Franco’s family, friends, and fans, but I’m sure where ever he is, one of cinema’s most fascinating figures is still making movies with his beloved Lina.

COUNT DRACULA

Jess Franco, 1970

Starring: Christopher Lee, Klaus Kinski, Soledad Miranda, Herbert Lom, Maria Rohm, Fred Williams

Normally I'm right there with Jess Franco. His films might not be the most popular, but I usually respect what he's doing and leave his movies feeling entertained and like I've shared some sort of private joke with this anarchistic director. That was sadly not the case with his rendition of Count Dracula. I suspect a large part of the problem is that the world absolutely does not need another Dracula adaptation.

You know the story. Jonathan Harker is hired to travel to Transylvania and aid Count Dracula in securing several properties around London. The Count turns out to be a vampire, puts the bite on Harker, travels back to London, and spreads his vampiric plague, namely to Harker's wife and her hot friend. Harker, with the help of an eccentric doctor and some friends, tries to stop him. Blah blah blah race against time, gypsies, blah.

Count Dracula is a flawed, but entertaining attempt to make a successful adaptation of Stoker's novel. Like Macbeth, I'm pretty sure Dracula is cursed. Instead of accidents and deaths, Dracula is plagued with a dozen "faithful" film adaptations, none of which really try to stay true to the novel. Count Dracula comes relatively close, but Franco and Harry Alan Towers still felt the need to change a number of things in the script, which infuriates me. I know it's irrational, but why claim you're faithfully adapting a novel if you're not going to. Plus, I'm pretty sure Franco has no business adapting anything. His original films are always the most interesting, bizarre and rewarding. Vampyros Lesbos puts this film to shame.

With that said, there's a great cast, which makes the film worth checking out at least once. Lee shines as Dracula, though feels strangely out of place in this German/Italian/Spanish co-production. I expect him to be surrounded by a bevy of generously-bosomed British babes, not exotic beauties like Franco regular Soledad Miranda. She is lovely, as always, though she should have gotten more screen time. Fred Williams, another Franco regular, is perfectly cast as Jonathan Harker, though, like his character, is a bit bland. Herbert Lom is only second to Peter Cushing as Van Helsing and Klaus Kinski was pretty much born to be Renfield. He's insane.

Moody, but kind of slow, it's at least worth watching to see such an interesting combination of actors under Franco's direction. Interestingly, this is the first film to show Dracula as he is in the novel -- an older man, growing younger only when he gorges himself with blood. It's also one of Franco's most beautiful films, despite the crushingly low budget. Check out the cheap DVD that claims to be a "special edition."