DR. ORLOFF'S MONSTER
(1964, Sinister Cinema)
Known in France as Les Maitresses du Dr. Jekyll ("The Brides
of Dr. Jekyll") and in Spain as El Secreto del Dr. Orloff ("
Dr. Orloff's Secret"), this film-directed by "John Frank"
and co-written by Franco's nephew Riccardo-is a sequel to THE AWFUL DR.
ORLOF in title only. Dr. Fisherman (Marcelo Arroita-Jauregui) is an
insane disciple of another Dr. Orloff, whose scientific theories have inspired
Fisherman to robotize his late brother's corpse (José Rubio), training
it to kill various women whom he presents with a special transmitter necklace.
The gig is up when Fisherman's niece (Agnes Spaak) arrives at his castle
to spend Christmas holiday, only to learn more about her dead father than
she ever expected.
The most surprising thing about this black-and-white movie is its complete
and utter averageness-an unusual quality from such an extreme filmmaker,
and especially for this rich period of European horror filmmaking. The American
version is missing some of the original's saucy strip club footage-including
the strangling of one topless dancer-that gave the original its bite. The
director can be seen, behind his trademark dark glasses, pounding the keys
in a night club. The end of the film-in which Spaak, torn between love and
duty, leads her zombie father to his doom-foreshadows Wizard Video's ZOMBIE
LAKE (1979), a feature co-scripted (but not directed) by Franco. The
Spanish release of El Secreto del Dr. Orloff coincided with the publication
of a novelization by "David Kuhne."
THE DIABOLICAL DR. Z
(1965, SINISTER CINEMA)
Originally titled Miss Muerte ("Miss Death"), this is one
of Franco's best movies. It was supposedly based on a novel by "David
Kuhne," but it owes its essential plot to Cornwell Woolrich's novel
THE BRIDE WORE BLACK, which Francois Truffaut would film two years
later. DZZ opens with the death of Dr. Zimmer, another Orloff disciple
whose disfigured daughter (Mabel Karr) seeks revenge on the Medical Board
responsible for shaming him into a fatal coronary. As the instrument of
her vengeance, she employs an exotic dancer named Miss Death (Estella Blain),
whom she brainwashes with a sadistic acupuncture machine and sends out into
the male world with a translucent danceskin and poisoned fingernails. Franco
himself plays the rather large supporting role of a police inspector, unable
to sleep since becoming a father; his partner in detection is played by
Daniel White, who composed the scores for many of Franco's films.
Franco co-wrote this kinky melodrama with Jean-Claude Carriere, an unsung
specialist in fetishistic storytelling who also scripted several of Luis
Bunuel's last films, like DIARY OF A CHAMBERMAID (1969) and THAT
OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE (1977). As embodied by Blain (who committed
suicide in 1981), Miss Death is one of the most lethal divinities of European
horror. Beautiful black-and-white photography suffuses the visuals with
an unnerving, silvery, surgical sheen. The American version (reportedly
3m shorter than the European release) credits the film's direction to Henri
Baum, who was in fact the the film's producer.

ATTACK OF THE ROBOTS
(1966, Video Yesteryear and Sinister Cinema)
Misinformation runs rampant around this clever, enterprising spy romp, which
reteamed Franco with scenarist Carriere. Often falsely cited as a 1962 release,
this film-originally Cartes sur Table ("Cards on the Table")-contains
props and dialogue of unmistakenly post-Kennedy vintage. The fact that it
stars Eddie Constantine has also caused the film to be misidentified as
part of the long running "Lemmy Caution" series which ended with
Jean-Luc Godard's ALPHAVILLE (1965). Actually, Constantine plays
retired agent Al Peterson ("Periera" in the European version),
summoned into active duty as an Interpol patsy when it's discovered that
Fernando Rey is programming agents (those with Peterson's same blood type)
into kamikaze zombie assassins.
As with DR. ORLOFF'S MONSTER, Franco can be seen tinkling the ivories
in a strip joint, in the only surviving seconds of a scene which originally
showed European ticketbuyers a good deal more of Sophie Hardy. It's a diverting
little movie, full of frivolous gadgets and girls, but it also heralds the
onset of Franco's impatient workaholic tendencies.
The result is a jumble of finely composed, story boarded sequences and hectic
discomposure, enough to suggest Franco was suddenly beset by bad planning
or fugitive funding. Alas, it was (or became) a change of philosophy.
KISS ME MONSTER
(1967, Value)
One minute into this silly and riotously overplotted spy spoof, a character
sighs, "Really, at this point, I don't understand anything anymore,"
and the viewer hastens to agree. Two ditzy Interpol agents, Diana and Regina
(Janine Reynaud and Rossana Yanni), look nothing like one another but moonlight
in strip clubs as "The Twins." In the town of Abilene, The Twins
trace a folk song to the elusive Dr. Bertrand, who has succeeded in bestowing
life on two muscle-bound, bikini-clad cyborgs. This tangled saga, which
must be seen to be disbelieved, is replete with constant pretensions to
the kind of rapid-fire hippicisms at which the Beatles films excelled, all
of which fail dismally.
Despite all this, KISS ME MONSTER (originally Besame Monstruo
) can be a tickler if approached in an unstarchy mood. The bizarre nightclub
and discotheque scenes are captured with a delightful sense of abandon,
and Michel Lemoine (Reynaud's real-life husband) has a hilariously Burroughsian
episode in an operating theater ("I'm all nerves, can't keep my hands
still...Forceps!") Franco has a marvelous cameo as a contact for a
mysterious Abilinean sect. He is wearing rose-colored glasses and holding
a flower in his fist, which probably explains a lot about the way this movie
turned out.
This long-out-of-print 1980 cassette was cleverly packaged with a rubber
eyeball attached to its shrinkwrapping.
99 WOMEN
(1968, Republic)
Only three women are onscreen during most of this competently crafted Women
In Prison Film, which sported an early X rating and doubtless inspired similar
Filipino endeavors like THE BIG DOLL HOUSE (1971), the success of
which helped to found Roger Corman's New World Pictures. As the warden,
Mercedes McCambridge struts around looking like Napolean Bonaparte in a
thrift store wig, dealing out punishments (surprisingly kept offscreen)
and lines like, "Prison is a place for the punishment of criminals-it's
not meant to be a happy place!"
Two scenes rank with Franco's best works: Maria Rohm's nonexplicit reminiscence
of her gang rape (told with menacing shadows and hysterical visuals) and
a male prison escapee's calculated seduction of his dead cellmate's lover,
which presents a realistic and disturbing portrait of grief commingling
with predation, each clinging to and knowingly satisfying the other.
DEADLY SANCTUARY
(1968, Monterey)
I thought I had seen Jack Palance overact until I saw his performance in
this picture, originally titled JUSTINE, OR THE MISFORTUNE OF VIRTUE.
A reasonable adaptation of the Marquis de Sade's most famous tract, it follows
its teenage heroine (Romina Power) through a series of perilous misadventures
when she is ousted, with her less innocent sister (Maria Rohm), from a convent
school. The evils of the "real" world are personified by one of
Franco's most impressive casts, including Palance (as the Pastor of the
Church of Pain,"the most selfish pleasure"), Mercedes McCambridge
(as a lesbian murderess), Sylva Koscina, Rosalba Neri, Franco himself (as
an 18th century vaudevillian) and Akim Tamiroff, most of whom pose unsavory
challenges to Justine's "virtue." Klaus Kinski plays de Sade,
feverishly scribbling his tale (or Harry Alan Towers' version of it) as
ghostly images of chained women assail him in his jail cell.
One suspects this is more Towers' film than Franco's; there are vivid scenes
of sadism and erotic delirium, but the overriding feel of the movie is that
of a lighthearted, melodramatic romp. Neither as startling nor as dangerous
as Franco's best work, but an enjoyably perverse little number, prettily
photographed by the usually-less-careful Manuel Merino.
AGAINST ALL ODDS
(1968, Republic)
Also known as KISS AND KILL and THE BLOOD OF FU MANCHU, this
was a sequel to Harry Alan Towers' more elaborate Sax Rohmer adaptations,
THE FACE OF FU MANCHU (1964) and the THE BRIDES OF FU MANCHU
(1965). Sources report that this film followed the production of THE
CASTLE OF FU MANCHU, but the caste and budget here are noticeably healthier-looking.
Towers' screenplay (written by "Peter Welbeck") owes its inspiration
to nothing less than Mario Bava's DR. GOLDFOOT AND THE GIRL BOMBS (1966),
as Fu Manchu poisons the lips of 10 beautiful women and sends them around
the world into the laps of various VIPs. Shirley (GOLDFINGER) Eaton
appears in a brief, confusing and probably incomplete cameo as "The
Black Widow."
Given such darkly erotic material, one would expect more enthusiasm from
Franco, but AGAINST ALL ODDS is actually the TV version of a rather
more purient picture. Oddly enough, the tape box features a prominant still
of a bare-breasted Maria Rohm, arms chained above her head, on one of the
film's sets. There's no nudity in the tape itself (one provocative dance
scene unreels through a post-produced Vaseline lens), although Rohm's blouse
does become inexplicably shredded during the final reel.
THE CASTLE OF FU MANCHU
(1968, EVI)
Franco inevitably won the chance to helm this film because of the Sadean
elements in his earlier works, and one would imagine him one of the few
directors with a sadistic imagination fully commensurate with that of Fu
Manchu. But this is basically a dreadful film: the filmstock changes from
shot to shot, the lighting is always maladjusted, the usually svelte Tsai
Chin (David Hemmings' assistant in BLOWUP)-as Fu's evil daughter-
looks haggard and wan, and the world outside Fu's castle is mostly suggested
with stock footage from A NIGHT TO REMEMBER and other pictures. Christopher
Lee summons none of the sinister presence of his earlier Fu Manchu performances
and is largely kept on the sidelines. Rosalba Neri ("Sara Bay"
from LADY FRANKENSTEIN) appears in one of her most perversely erotic
performances, as a lesbian spy in a fez and man's pin striped suit. Unfortunately,
the trade mark torture room footage-in which Neri figured prominently -bit
the dust to accommodate a PG rating. Franco pops up as Inspector Ahmet.
VENUS IN FURS
(1969, Republic)
Quintessential Franco, James Darren stars as a jazz musician, vacationing
in Istanbul, whose feelings of dislocation are intensified by his discovery
of a blonde's corpse on the beach, which reminds him of a woman (Maria Rohm)
he once saw murdered at a party. As Darren's silent guilt plagues him, the
victim appears at one of his gigs- a cool brunette presence in mink, as
intent on fogging his brain as she is determined to avenge her death, with
visits to her three assailants: Margaret lee, Dennis Price, and Klaus Kinski.
The beauty of this film-a kind of inverted telling of THE BRIDE WORE
BLACK, influenced by Antonioni's BLOWUP-is that it makes little
narrative sence, while making perfect emotional sense. What better purpose
can film serve? The fetishistic images come to boil with a hot, obsessive
jazz score by Manfred Mann and Mike Hugg, as Darren narrates the hallucinations
with lines like "Man, it was a wild scene, but if they wanted to go
that route, it was their bag!" These Sixties-isms only make the experience
more appealingly distorted, a haunting, virtually unique fantasy. Franco
can be seen in the film as a musician, playing trombone in a nightclub and
piano at a decadent party.
The film has nothing to do with Leopold von Sacher-Masoch's classic novel,
and was imposed on the production by Harry Alan Towers. Franco refers to
the film in interviews with his preferred title, BLACK ANGEL.
NIGHT OF THE BLOOD MONSTER
(1969, GEE)
This dubious release-packaged with unbelievably childish artwork (it's even
signed!)-contains a shakey transfer of the domestic version of El Proceso
de las Brujas (" The Trial of the Witches"), which American International
relieved of 16m of nudity and brutality. Christopher Lee gives a powerful
performance (under the circumstances) as Judge Jeffreys, Britain's 17th
Century Lord Chancellor, who uses his authority to sexually enslave a young
woman (Maria Rohm) desperate to save the life of her imprisoned lover, a
Monmouth rebel. Lee has referred to Jeffreys as "one of the best performances
I"ve given." The comparative restraint of Lee's scenes were compensated,
in the European version, with extensive torture room footage, in which Howard
Vernon appears as a sadistic, club footed executioner (a la Karloff in THE
TOWER OF LONDON, 1939). This cassette is virtually impossible to find,
but has been seen sighted in one or two New England sellthrough locations.
COUNT DRACULA
(1970, Republic)
It was a good idea to attempt an exact filming of Bram Stoker's 1897 novel,
but Franco and producer Harry Alan Towers weren't up to the task. The film
received much note at the time of its release, thanks to Christopher Lee's
booming pride at having finally portrayed the title character as written,
but note soon soured into notoriety, and rightfully so. (Despite the disappintment,
Lee has continued to work with Franco , as recently as DARK MISSION in 1987.)
Towers' script strays from Stoker almost immediatly, and one can't help
supposing that the material has been dramatized with equal resources on
the stages of college campuses.
The film proceeds clumsily and looks disgustingly cheap; the bats are so
wretched, we're shown only wire driven shadows. Lee's performance is authoritative,
but loses it's edge under the deadpan stare of Manuel Merino's inept camera.
Dracula's "children of the night" speech, for example, is accompanied
with a zoom into Lee's eyes, which then drops down to his mouth, with all
the precision of a handheld shot. Klaus Kinski's brilliant performance as
Renfield is continually upstaged by the shadow of Merino's camera on his
padded cell wall. Franco wanders into the film, on occasion, playing Dr.
Seward's nameless, sluglike manservant.
It should have been obvious that Franco-whose strengh is with contemporary,
graphic, dreamlike and preferably erotic material-was the wrong director
for a stagebound period piece of symbolic sex and suggestive horror. After
the failure of COUNT DRACULA, and a history of production interference
from the Spanish censor board, Franco relocated to Paris.
By this time, the English-speaking cinema had begun to catch up with Franco's
erotic brand of horror film-making, notably Hammer's THE VAMPIRE LOVERS
(1970) and VAMPIRE CIRCUS (1971). Unexpectedly, Franco reacted by
going the extra distance and preparing hardcore editions of his horror films!
He also accelerated production, as if the Devil himself were breathing down
his neck. After making an impressive 26 features in his first decade as
a filmmaker, his second decade totaled an estimated 67 titles-a figure that
still doesn't include supplementary hardcore editions.
A VIRGIN AMONG THE LIVING DEAD
(1971, Wizard)
Receiving word of her uncle's death, a young woman (Christina von Blanc)
travels to his villa for the reading of his will, where she is coldly greeted
by a number of greedy (and equally dead) relatives. Predating the zombie
revival sparked by DAWN OF THE DEAD, the film features a haunting
scene in which the heroine sees a vision of her uncle (Paul Muller of NIGHTMARE
CASTLE fame), hung from a noose, floating through a forest. Perverse
sex and nudity are implied, but the cassette features the TV version, in
which portions of the frame are sometimes fogged to obscure offending sights.
Une Vierge chez les Morts-Vivants may seem like diluted Franco, and
there's good reason. Franco reportedly directed this film's original incarnation,
a surreal work wich he holds as one of his personal favorites, and later
filmed hardcore sequences to make it more commercial; the latter version
was released in France as Christina Princesse de l'Eroticism ("Christina,
Princess of Eroticism"). In 1979, Jean Rollin was hired to add footage
featuring attacks by some Romeroesque "zombies."
This film has also been spotted in some stores as a bootleg tape on the
Ivers label. Packaged inside a British sleeve, the tape itself is a poor-quality
dupe of the Wizard cassette-including the Wizard logo.
THE DEMONS
(1972, Unicorn)
Directed by "Clifford Brown" and based on another "David
Kuhne" novel, Les Demons is a semi-sequel to NIGHT OF THE BLOOD
MONSTER (1969). Christopher Lee is replaced as Judge Jeffreys by John
Foster-the muy macho star of WITCHES MOUNTAIN, directed the same
year by Raul Artigo, who photographed this film.
After Jeffreys and two sadistic compatriots burn a witch at the stake, her
dying curse on the village compels her daughters to join the local nunnery,
where they tempt fellow nuns to acts of lesbianism and suicide. One of the
sisters shows a talent for a "death kiss," which literally turns
men into skeletons. (Where have we seen that before, Jess?)
Unicorn's box carries no rating information-the film was never theatrically
released here-but the tape includes full frontal nudity and several explicit
lesbian love scenes. The 16th century sex is scored with shrill Heavy Metal.
THE SCREAMING DEAD
(1972, Wizard)
Originally titled Dracula, Prisonnier de Frankenstein ("Dracula, Prisoner
of Frankenstein"), this film could be viewed as Franco's version of
THE MONSTER SQUAD, a homage to the Universal monster rallies of the
1940's. Instead of using the old monsters to nostalgic ends, Franco perversely
attempts to integrate them as characters into his most morbid adult fantasies.
Dennis Price stars as Dr. Frankenstein, who discovers the remains of Count
Dracula (Howard Vernon)-a vampire bat crucified inside a coffin-and enslaves
him as a procurer for his meat market.
There's a sick scene in which Price revives the Count by allowing the live
vampire bat to drown in a jar slowly filling with "blood," and
the film's extensive erotric content has been largely deleted from the Wizard
tape. David Pirie's book THE VAMPIRE CINEMA presents a still from
this film showing Britt Nichols in a see-through vampire gown, replaced
by an opaque style in this version. Howard Vernon, sporting green make-up,
a mildewed tuxedo and a lipstick gash, is the worst Dracula since Zandor
Vorkov. The Frankenstein monster (Fernando Bilbao) is even worse, and the
Wolfman (Brandy) is unspeakable. This film includes a scene of gypsy villagers
discussing the strobing lights at Frankenstein's castle, which is a scene
shot for (but not used in) COUNT DRACULA.
A slightly different Spanish version- Dracula contra Frankenstein- has been
shown on Galavision, a Spanish-language cable service, and begins with a
scolarly quotation from the works of...David Kuhne!
EROTIKILL
(1973, Force)
THE LOVES OF IRINA
(1973, Luna Video)
Franco made this movie three times, in three different ways; as a vampire
film (La Countesse Noire-"The Black Countess"), as a horrific
sex film (La Countess aux Seins Nus-"The Bare Breasted Countess"),
and as a non-supernatural hardcore picture (Les Avaleuses-"The Swallowers").
Lina Romay plays Countess Irina Karlstein, a mute descendant of a vampire
family who is vacationing in Portugal. While satisfying her thirsts for
various bodily fluids, she indulges the attentions of metaphysical poet
Jack Taylor. Taylor has sex with her, knowing the encounter will prove fatal
to him.
Like VENUS IN FURS, this film uses obsessive images and music to
create an oneiric mood that shows Franco-who also plays Dr. Roberts, a forensic
surgeon-at his best. French horror journalist Jean-Pierre Bouyxou plays
Dr. Orloff, now a blind hedonistic hippie.
EROTIKILL is the (mostly) horror version. At 72m, it's missing nearly
30m of footage, and one ejects the tape with a shudder of wonderment at
what a taboo-bursting masterpiece the full, uncut version must be. EROTIKILL
is one of the titles in Force's "Wild Wild Women" series and a
trailer for the collection follows the feature on the cassette. In a happy
yet aggravating touch, the trailer includes a brief shot (of Romay and her
first victim, in a distinctly compromising position) that was coyly snipped
from Force's cut of the film.
Luna Video, an adult video label (formerly known as Private Screenings),
subsequently scratched this itch by releasing THE LOVES OF IRINA,
a considerably raunchier 96m version that fulfills all the promises of EROTIKILL.
IRINA completely eliminates the bloodsucking angle, concentrating
instead on the Countess' insatiable (and deadly) thirst for male and female
hormones. One scene-indescribable in a family magazine-dealt me the most
electrifying, pleasurable shock I've received from a horror film in years.
Jolting, yet lyrical and appallingly persuasive, THE LOVES OF IRINA
actually leaves the viewer feeling parched and spent.
THE LOVES OF IRINA ranks with the most daring works of erotic horror-Harry
Kumel's DAUGHTERS OF DARKNESS, Riccardo Freda's THE HORRIBLE DR.
HITCHCOCK, David Cronenberg's THEY CAME FROM WITHIN-and takes
greater liberties with the freedoms now available to the screen than all
the others combined. In Franco's hands, extremity does not mean an abandonment
of subtlety, but rather a means of expanding frontiers, of taking a giant
step torward capturing a a kind of horror that is only now surfacing in
English literature and may never surface in the commercial cinema. IRINA's
technical faults-bad dubbing, occasionally reckless photography-may disqualify
it as a masterpiece, but it's imagination, audacity and capacity to shock
(and titillate) are nothing short of masterful.
Both available versions of the film are credited to "J.P. Johnson."
(It should be mentioned that, despite Luna Video's policy against releasing
hardcore material, THE LOVES OF IRINA contains shots that are...exceptional.)
BARBED WIRE DOLLS
(1975, IVC)
Original title: Frauengefangnis ("Women in Prison"). The plot
of this unrated sado-drama reiterates 99 WOMEN with even greater
explicitness, as Lina Romay and two other female prisoners escape the sadistic
and sexual proclivities of a monocled prison wardress (Monica Swinn), and
plow through dense jungle toward freedom.
Mostly of interest for its sheer shamelessness-one highlight is Romay's
nightmare flashback, in which Franco appears as her lecherous father, whom
she murders in self-defence and staggers about the room in rediculously
faked slow-motion- this tape is now out of print.
PORNO DAMA
(1975, Viva/Unicorn)
In the late 1980's, Luna Video released a tape packaged with the title,
cast, and synopsis of Franco's sex spoof THE MIDNIGHT PARTY (1975).
When Lina Video looked at the movie, they declared it beneath their standards
and substituted its release with a Max Pecas film-originally Lascive
("Lewdness")-which they retitled THE MIDNIGHT PARTY. This
Spanish-language cassette carries a 1982 date and credits the direction
to "Tawer Nero" (Julio Perez Tabernero, the director of SEXY
CAT), but it is , without question, Franco's MIDNIGHT PARTY!
The above title is taken from the box; the onscreen title is LADY PORNO.
We can only assume that Tabernero supervised the Spanish dubbing and that
1982 was the Spanish deposition (or copyright) date of this version. Only
68m long, the film leaves literally nothing of Ms. Romay to the imagination.
Phil Hardy's ENCYCLOPEDIA OF HORROR MOVIES cites THE MIDNIGHT
PARTY as an alternate title for EROTIKILL (1973), but this
is incorrect.
Lina Romay plays a stripper who is invited to a midnight orgy, where she
wakes the next morning to find the other two-thirds of her menage stabbed
to death. She is then abducted by a trio of spies, eager to hear what she
learned during her recent affair with a French diplomat. The spies, led
by a sadistic, false-legged Fearless Leader (Franco, who else?), subject
her to bedbound trials of pain and pleasure calculated to make her shift
allegiance. Franco apologizes to the viewer for the startling cruelty of
his performance in his last scene, by doffing his dark glasses, looking
into the camera with soft eyes and saying, "As you see, I'm only an
actor."
Since I first saw PORNO DAMA, I have had the good fortune to see
other copies in French, Italian, and English; only this Spanish version
fails to preserve the film's original intentions as a self-parody. This
version, for example, deletes an extended prologue of Lina-as herself-rolling
around nude on satin sheets, masturbating while hoping aloud that she will
make more movies like this one. French genre authority Alain Petit (using
the name "Charlie Christian") appears as one of Lina's lovers,
a Communist rock star whose signature theme is "Life is Shit."
Newcomers to Franco's oeuvre probably won't get 99% of the jokes.
JACK THE RIPPER
(1976, Vestron)
Franco's devotion to the filming of this highly fictionalized rendering
of the Ripper saga is obvious; he made only two other films in 1976, when
his average was five. Klaus Kinski essays the title role-a philanthropic
doctor whose unresolved osbsession with his mother's harlotry compels him
to solicit whores for nightly acts of fatal lovemaking-with unsettlingly
cool conviction. In a finale that borrows freely from THE AWFUL DR. ORLOFF,
he is ultimately trapped by the adventurous lover of a Scotland Yard detective
(Josephine Chaplin, daughter of Charlie), who baits him in streetwalker
guise.
DEMONIAC
(1979, Wizard)
A key title in the understanding of Franco. Franco himself stars as Vogel,
a religious fanatic who cuts the "impurity" out of various Parisian
women, then sells fictionalized accounts of his exploits to THE DAGGER
AND THE GARTER, a magazine specializing in "sadomasochistic melodrama."
The fact that Franco chose to project his own face into this self-written
scenario gives the film a chilling confessional edge that finds it closest
parallel in Michael Powell's PEEPING TOM (1959), though it's hardly
in league with that masterpiece.
Despite the prevalent nudity and sadism on Wizard's tape, DEMONIAC
is a muted version of Franco's Le Sadique de Notre Dame ("The
Sadist of Notre Dame," 1979), an extensive reworking of his 1974 film
Exorcisme et Messes Noir ("Exorcism and Black Masses").
The original 1974 film was also released in France with hardcore inserts
under the title Sexorcisme. The two (three, four?) films are substantially
different. Slasher fans, be warned; DEMONIAC is not flashy fun, but
rather a searing, sour-tasting portrait of mental illness that playfully
invites its audience to wonder where Vogel ends and Franco begins.
WHITE CANNIBAL QUEEN
(1979, Video City)
The credits of this bizarre, ludicrous movie-originally Mondo Cannibale
("Cannibal World")-refer to it as "A Film by Franco Prosperi...Directed
by Jess Franco."
A little girl is washed ashore in the jungle after her parents are attacked
by the most unconvinceing cannibal tribe you'll ever see-white guys with
Elvis sideburns, wearing KISS makeup! The tribe is so stunned by her white
skin that they adopt her as their resident Goddess. Ten years later, her
father (Al Cliver of Lucio Fulci's ZOMBIE) returns-minus one eaten
arm-with a search party to reclaim her. Franco's anticipation of Boorman's
THE EMERALD FOREST loses its ironic sweetness due to inept handling;
it's never explained why the film's many white women seem more suitable
for the menu than the pedestal.
One expects the moral of the story to be "You Can Take the Girl Out
of the Cannibals, But You Can't Take the Cannibal Out of the Girl,"
but in the worst miscalculation of all, the outcome one expects-that Father
will rescue Daughter, Father will hug Daughter, who will then take a bite
out of Father-doesn't happen, after all. Unlike most Italian-made cannibal
films, no animals were sacrificed here for the sake of verisimilitude. Lina
Romay appears under her nom de porn ("Candy Coster"), though the
film never strays beyond the limits of of an R rating. In a pointedly political
aside, Franco (who also scored the film) cameos as Mr. Martin, an American
businessman and self-confessed "parasite" who has an open trade
policy with the flesh-eaters.
MAN HUNTER
(1980, Trans World)
MANDINGO MANHUNTER
(Wizard)
Not to be confused with Michael Mann's (or Earl Owensby's) MAN HUNTER-both
of which are out on cassette-this movie is in much the same mold as WHITE
CANNIBAL QUEEN. Because it also features Al Cliver amid carnivorous
jungle trappings, MAN HUNTER could be mistaken for a sequel, but
it was actually an unfinished project of Amando de Ossorio (TOMBS OF
THE BLIND DEAD), completed by Franco under his "Clifford Brown"
pseudonym. A starlet (Ursula Fellner) is abducted by ransom seekers, who
chain and abuse her until the party is broken up by a bloodshot, popeyed
zombie.
Scored by Franco (under his real name, Jesus Franco Manera-there's pride
for you!), MAN HUNTER sports slapdash makeup, a laughable native
cannibal tribe (supplemented with white crew members, one of whom commandeers
the voodoo drums) and a nasty, leering attitude toward former Playmate Fellner.
Despite its coarse production and personality flaws, the film remains more
watchable than some other, more widely stocked cannibal movies, like NIGHT
OF THE ZOMBIES and BURIAL GROUND. Trans World Entertainment has
labled the tape box "Adult" as opposed to "Horror"-
an honest appraisal of its contents, but one that may consign MAN HUNTER
to a section of your video store where you wouldn't normally look for it.
HELLHOLE WOMEN
(1980, CIC)
This is a censored Canadian release of Franco's Sadomania , which stars
the late transsexual actress Ajita Wilson as the sadistic lesbian wardress
of an island women's prison. The box promises 88m, but the tape delivers
only 69 of them-retaining nudity while rendering incoherent abusive scenes
that gave the film its original title. Franco delivers one of his kinkiest
cameos ever as a gay white slave trader, introduced while being sodomized
by a native boy!
BLOODY MOON
(1981, Trans World)
A young, disfigured murderer's release from the asylum coinsides with a
new series of bizarre sex murders at the college where he resides. Like
JACK THE RIPPER, this 1980 West German production showcases Franco's
capabilities when given a proper budget and production schedule but, in
this case, these comforts homogenize his identity almost beyond recognition.
Disco-scored and much influenced by American hits of the time like HALLOWEEN
and FRIDAY THE 13TH, BLOOD MOON features enough perversion (incest,
in this case) and strangeness (the killer's sister bares here breasts to
the moon in an unexplained nightly ritual) to keep it afloat. Includes a
memorable gory scene in which a modern-day Pearl White is given a ride in
"the old sawmill." Franco cameos as a doctor early in this picture.
(Would you take a prescription from this man?)
Franco females go wild in his BLOODY MOON.
Gemidos de placer
(1981, Viva/Unicorn)
That's "Moans of Pleasure" in English, and this near-plotless
, semi-hardcore effort claims its basis in the writings of the Marquis de
Sade. Lina Romay stars as Julia, who arrives to spend a weekend with a male
admirer ("Robert Foster" aka Antonio Mayans) at his Mediterranean
villa, where he introduces her to his dominatrix wife, a "housekeeper/secretary/lover,"
and a nameless, stammering idiot who serenades the ensuing orgy with feverish
flamenco guitar. In a couple of horrifically over-the-top scenes, two of
the wild weekenders perish amid the dire straits of their horny homework.
Franco took an experimental approach to this film; the action was meticulously
rehearsed in the style of a stage play, and the film was photographed in
20 extended takes.
The result is a powerful and unsettling work, and a welcome return to the
"death as desire" themes Franco has largely neglected since the
mid-1970's. Franco must have agreed; its one of the few adult movies signed
with his real name. The Spanish dialogue is minimal, making the film unusually
comprehensible to English speaking viewers.
OASIS OF THE ZOMBIES
(1982, Wizard and Filmline)
BLOODSUCKING NAZI ZOMBIES
(Trans World)
The son of a late British soldier learns from his father's diary that a
$6 million fortune (stolen by Field Marshal Rommel in WWII) awaits him in
a desert oasis, but he and his treasure-hungry teen entourage find it guarded
by the covetous corpses of Rommel's Nazi soldiers. One of them bears a suspicious
resemblance to Jess Franco.
This film-L'Abime des Morts-Vivants- is credited to "A.M. Frank"
(a pseudonym used by Eurocine mogul Marius Lasoeur) and is composited with
footage from Franco's unreleased La Tumba de los Muertos Vivientes ("Tombs
of the Living Dead"). Slow, but much better than Eurocine's ZOMBIE
LAKE (also on Wizard Video), with its graphic cannibalism and maggot-faced
monsters showcased in a happily uncut print, unusual for a Wizard release.
The film also benefits from a rare sense of humor, as when our fortune-hunting
heroes find a two-man film crew watching them, who cheerfully admit, "Hey,
this ain't Hollywood!" (Could this be an injoke reference to Francis
Coppola's cameo in APOCALYPSE NOW?)
This article originally appeared in three parts under the respective
titles "The Agony and the Ecstacy of Jess Franco," "The Torture
Chamber of Jess Franco," and "Franco-The Final Chapter."
It remains the only three-part article published in FANGORIA'S 13-year history
and I think, editorially speaking, their bravest moment. When Tony Timpone
asked if the final portion could be presented as a "Video Watchdog"
column in GOREZONE, I agreed; after all, the fact that he agreed at all,
considering its references to hardcore pornography, was like getting away
with murder. So it was that "Franco-The Final Chapter" became
GOREZONE'S fifth "Video Watchdog" column. Despite the popularity
of these articles and the appetite they created for Franco's work, his films
have not legitimately surfaced on video in this country in several years.
I have taken the liberty of compositing the original article into a single
work, correcting original errors and adding new information. I am grateful
to Craig Ledbetter, Lucas Balbo, Pierre Charles, and Michael Secula for
all that they subsequently taught me about the Great Man of Spanish horror.
One Canadian release accidently escaped being included : CIC Video's WOMEN
IN CELL BLOCK 9 [Frauen fur Zellenblock 9, 1977]. This sadistic
VIP film, starring Karine Gambier and Howard Vernon, is available uncut
and also in a censored version, which CIC thoughtfully retitled WOMEN
IN CELLBLOC 9.
Since directing FACELESS in 1988, Jess Franco has written and directed
several low-budget war and action pictures which have not been widely released.
Most recently, Oja Kodar entrusted him with the sacred task of completing
Orson Welles' long-unfinished DON QUIXOTE. It was screened in the
1992 Cannes Film Festival.
In 1990, I wrote an essay-length sequel to this article-"How to Read
a Franco film"-which appeared in the first issue of VIDEO WATCHDOG.