Broken Dolls (1999)

As the 80’s drew to a close Jess Franco’s directorial output had slowed down considerably. Prior to 1988 Franco was known for producing multiple films per year however from 1988 to 1997 Franco only directed 8 films. Despite all the harsh criticism that has been directed towards the series of films Jess Franco helmed for One Shot Productions between 1997 and 2005 and the cries of “quality over quantity”, the fact remains that One Shot, along with the digital video medium allowed Franco to become prolific again at what he loved the most. Not only did One Shot allow Franco the ability to make films at a faster pace again but they also gave him complete artistic control which led to some of his oddest and most polarizing films. 1999 was a particularly productive year with Franco directing 4 films that year, Vampire Blues, Dr. Wong’s Virtual Hell, Red Silk and Broken Dolls. Now obviously 4 films might seem like nothing compared to the 12 that Franco was able to complete in 1973 or the even more astounding number of 14 in 1983 but 4 films in one year is still quite the achievement especially considering how long it takes certain directors in between projects. While all the films Franco made in 1999 are unique in their own way, Broken Dolls is perhaps the most, representing Franco at his most serious and somber.

Ex-vaudeville actor Don Martin (Paul Lapidus) lives on an island along with his wife Tona (Lina Romay) and daughter Beatriz (Mavi Tienda) and Gina (Christie Levin), a woman whom he’d taken in and began an affair with. Originally brought to the island with the promise of a buried treasure, the island’s appeal has long been lost on the family and the relationships between all have become bitter and resentful with all but Don Martin, who has slowly begun to lose his grip on reality still believing the island to be the ultimate paradise, desperate to escape the island before Don Martin loses his sanity completely.

At first glance Broken Dolls might seem atypical for a Franco film on account of it being a serious drama but the idea of the destruction of an odd family unit living in isolation was nothing new to Franco having previously explored the idea in The Hot Nights of Linda (1975) and again with La casa de las mujeres perdidas (1983), the later of which Broken Dolls shares many similarities. Although Franco does throw in some instances of humor to lighten the mood just as he did in The Hot Nights of Linda, Broken Dolls is easily the most grim of the three films. While the impending ruin of the family itself is obviously a major component in the films morose tone, perhaps more striking is the defeated mindset of the family, who had long lost all sense of “normalcy” long before the film begins, perhaps best evidenced by Tona’s nonchalant attitude to Don Martin’s flaunting of his affair with Gina. Its suggested that Tona and to a lesser extent Beatriz are almost welcoming to their undoing, seeing it as their only way out of the false paradise of the island with the original promise of hidden treasure being a mere afterthought. Even with the economical digital video medium Franco brilliantly juxtaposes the natural beauty of the island and its ocean surroundings with the downbeat nature of Don Martin and the families fate which leads to an quintessentially Franco climax that recalls both Countess Perverse (1973) and The Sexual Story of O (1984).

Interesting tidbit regarding Broken Dolls, Lina was known to have said her performance in the film was her favorite out of all her performances. While she is indeed very good in the film it’d be a stretch to call it her best work. The entire cast is good as well, Lapidus especially in the role of Don Martin is a major reason why the film works as well as it does. Like the majority of Franco’s One Shot films though, Broken Dolls does feature the all Spanish cast speaking English (they did they’re own dubbing) with very thick accents which can be a bit distracting at times although it never becomes completely unintelligible. Also like most of Franco’s One Shot films the original DVD release from Sub Rosa which also featured as a bonus the de Sade inspired experimental piece Helter Skelter (2000) is long out of print, though it should come as no surprise that Sub Rose re-released the film twice, first as part of a double feature with Blind Target (2000) billed as “Naked and Dead Dolls” and again in a multi-film set, “Stripped Dead” along with Vampire Blues, Incubus (2002) and Snakewoman (2005). Ultimately Broken Dolls is an oddly upsetting and at times perverse film that will probably only appeal to a select group of hardcore Franco fanatics, but it is one of Franco’s most interesting films regardless of era.  

Vampire Blues (1999)

AKA Vampire Sex - Lady Dracula 3

When it comes to vampire films, some of the most unique in the subgenre have come from the major Eurocult auteurs. For all intensive purposes, Jean Rollin could be considered the king of Euro vampires, completely turning the subgenre on its head with his debut film The Rape of the Vampire (1968) and continuing to do so with films like Shiver of the Vampires (1971) and Lips of Blood (1975) amongst several others. Also films such as Vicente Aranda’s The Blood Splattered Bride (1972) and José Ramón Larraz’s Vampyres (1974) offered their own creative twist on vampires. Even amongst the sea of original takes on vampirism in Euro horror, its the vampire films of Jess Franco that stand out as the most uncommon. Never one for tradition (even Rollin‘s films retained some traditional vampire “rules“), Franco threw the rule book out the window with his two most celebrated vampire films Vampyros Lesbos (1971) and Female Vampire (1973). While Franco wasn’t the only filmmaker to explore the idea of vampires as lonely creatures or the idea of the allure of vampirism as a means of escape from the mundane realities of everyday life, nobody quite delved into that world quite like Franco did in those two films. In 1999 Franco returned to that world of vampires with Vampire Blues, his most radical take on vampires as well as one of his most inaccessible films.

While vacationing in Spain, New Jersey college student Rachel Crosby begins to have visions of a mysterious woman wherever she goes and soon the woman begins appearing in Rachel’s dreams. The woman is Countess Irina von Murnau (Analía Ivars), a powerful vampire who has her sights set on Rachel in hopes of bringing her over into her world of vampirism. Marga (Lina Romay), a gypsy fortune teller senses the extreme danger Rachel is in and becomes determined to aid Rachel in protecting her from Irina’s enticing allure.

X-Rated Kult DVD's for the film under its alternate title

Easily Franco’s most experimental work at the time of its production, Vampire Blues feels less like a film than it does Franco aiming a camera at his thoughts during mid-daydream. While that description could be applied to a number of Franco films and the term “dreamlike” has been used to describe several of Franco’s films its more than apt when attempting to classify Vampire Blues as the film literally feels like a dream in progress from the moment it begins and retains that same mood for the remainder of its running time. To a certain extent the film follows the same trajectory as Vampyros Lesbos and Ivars’s Irina von Murnau does share a kinship with Soledad Miranda’s Nadine Carody as well as Lina’s Irina von Karlstein from Female Vampire and also features characteristics found by Pamela Stamford’s Lorna Green from Lorna the Exorcist (1974) and Ajita Wilson’s Princess Tara Obongo from Macumba Sexual (1981). What separates Vampire Blues from all those films however, is the films hallucinatory visual design with Franco really indulging in filters, post-production video effects, image distortion and color manipulation. Overindulgent? Absolutely, and most will probably find it grating yet considering the world this film occupies it makes perfect sense. The films theme song performed by the Ubangis which plays repeatedly throughout the film works wonders and plays a major hand in establishing the films hazy aesthetic with its lethargic bluesy swagger and almost Lynch/Badalamenti-esque vibe. Whenever Ivars is present and the song is playing the results are pure magic.

Its amazing to think that even by 1999 Franco’s films were still having different cuts released and such was the case with Vampire Blues with the longer European cut being made available as a special feature on Sub Rosa’s DVD of the film. Exactly why there were two different cuts releases makes absolutely no sense whatsoever but that’s how it went. Sub Rosa also released the film as a double feature along with Franco’s Vampire Junction (2001) as “Vampire Lovers” and it was inevitable that the film would end up on one of Sub Rosa’s Franco multi-film sets, “Stripped Dead” along with Broken Dolls (1999), Incubus (2002) and Snakewoman (2005). Quite a variety of viewing options for a film who’s audience was limited in the first place being a Franco film and made even more limited on account of it being a One Shot film. Admittedly there’s a lot about Vampire Blues that will turn many viewers, even the most defensive of Francophiles off, be it the excessive video effects or the Spanish actors speaking in phonetic English (or in the case of Ivars dubbed in after the fact), a common practice during Franco’s One Shot days. On the other hand, Franco’s audacity along with the combination of psychedelic visuals, surreal, otherworldly ambiance, the theme song and the shear presence of Analía Ivars make Vampire Blues an easy film to get lost in.

Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula (1998)

AKA Eight Legs to Love You

Deservedly dubbed “the king of Euro sleaze” by many, Jess Franco may be forever remembered for his psychedelic and erotic horror films but its important to remember that with a filmography featuring well over 200 films there really wasn’t any genre or subgenre that Franco never dabbled in throughout his career. Years before he entered the horror genre with The Awful Dr. Orlof (1962) Franco got his start directing documentary shorts and even musicals such as Queen of the Tabarin Club (1960) which technically happens to be the very first Franco film to feature Soledad Miranda even though her part in the film could best be described as a minuscule cameo. Of course Franco was also no stranger to the “women in prison” subgenre with films like 99 Women (1969), Women Behind Bars (1975), Barbed Wire Dolls (1976) and Sadomania (1981). There’s also comedies like Celestine, Maid at Your Service (1974) not to mention the numerous crime and private detective films featuring the reoccurring character of Al Pereira. No matter what genre he happened to be working in, the end results were more often than not quintessentially Franco and such is the case with Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula. Franco’s second film for One Shot Productions, Mari-Cooke and the Killer Tarantula is a film so utterly bizarre and unclassifiable in terms of genre it could have only come from the mind of Franco.

A series of disappearances has been plaguing the seaside community of Antifagasta. Sherriff Marga (Michelle Bauer) is convinced that the culprit responsible is Tarantula (Lina Romay), an avant-garde punk nightclub performer and also the alter ego of bubbly housewife Mari-Cookie (also Romay), the spawn of a woman who unknowingly had a spider crawl into her vagina and lay its eggs after being raped by a solider. Determined to prove Tarantula’s guilt, Marga hatches a scheme along with rival dancer Queen Vicious (Analía Ivars) using Amy (Amber Newman), the daughter of wealthy socialite Tere (Linnea Quigley) as bait resulting in herself and all those involved becoming tangled in Tarantula/Mari-Cookie’s web of seduction.

Its often said that Franco’s films exist within their own universe and the same could be said about Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula. However, at the same time a special exception could also be made for this film as its so incredibly strange it seems to occupy a space in its own alternate universe within Franco’s already alternate universe. As if its title didn’t already make it obvious, this is far from a serious film. An oddball mixture of surrealist horror, absurd comedy, erotica, exploitation and even featuring homage’s to B-films of the 50’s and classic Warner Bros. cartoons, Mari-Cooke and the Killer Tarantula is Franco at his most over the top and campiest. Like so many of Franco’s films it’s a “just go with it” type of situation which is the best way of enjoying the film much like the cast, who were clearly in on the joke so to speak, are enjoying themselves. Lina was always a very good comedic actress and shines in the duel role especially in the persona of Mari-Cookie. Bauer, in her first role for Franco beautifully hams it up in her barely there Sheriff’s outfit and Ivars and Newman are having a blast as well. Linnea Quigley might not have much to do, but like everyone else was obviously having fun with her role. What makes the film seem even more “off” is the fact that the mostly Spanish cast speaks phonetic English throughout the film which was a common occurrence during Franco’s One Shot films.  

Franco makes no attempt to hide the films low budget, in fact he does the opposite by blatantly acknowledging it and yet visually the film is quite ambitious in parts. Despite the fact that the massive spider webs featured prominently throughout the film are clearly made of rope they're nonetheless quite eye-catching, particularly during the scenes taking place within Tarantula’s lair. The film also features some unmistakably Franco nightclub sequences featuring Lina performing on the aforementioned giant spider webs and both are prime examples of Franco’s knack for lulling viewers into a delirious, trancelike state. The second one in particular which leads to an unforgettable encounter between Lina and Amber Newman goes on for so long it becomes almost hallucinatory what with the lighting and music, which could be best described as eastern influenced electronica. The films soundtrack is also interesting in that while portions of the film do feature Franco’s trademark jazz scoring, for the most part Franco opted for a more “modern” (“modern” for 1998 anyway) approach. “Sueño Nº 7” performed by Fangoria and Intronautas during the films opening nightclub act is a definite highlight, perfectly fitting the scene and being an incredibly catchy song to boot. The film really shows its budget when it comes to showcasing  Tarantula/Mari-Cookie in her actual spider form, which is essentially a prop lowered down on a string with a picture of Lina’s face plastered on it. Of course its absolutely ridiculous looking, meaning it couldn’t have been more appropriate for a film like this.

Like all of Franco’s One Shot films Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula is available on a multi-film set from Sub Rosa entitled “Deviant Lust” along with Red Silk (1999), Blind Target (2000) and Vampire Junction (2001). It was also released as a double feature by Sub Rosa with Franco’s Incubus (2002) under the banner of “Jess Franco’s Perversion”, not to be confused with Franco’s 2005 film Flores de perversión (Flowers of Perversion) which was released by X-Rated Kult as Jess Franco’s Perversion. The original DVD for the film, also released by Sub Rosa is still fairly easy to find for good prices and is full of extras, most famously a segment featuring a nude Linnea Quigley reminiscing about the production. Well worth owning. A curious thing, there were two VHS releases for the film, one under the Eight Legs to Love You title and the other as Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula. What’s interesting is that the second tape features no dialogue, only the soundtrack. In a perfect world, Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula would have a large cult following, however despite Franco’s devoted fan base with this being a One Shot film its even more alienating than some of Franco’s other more well known films. Still, the fact that there’s a film directed by Franco and featuring the likes of Lina, Michelle Bauer and Linnea Quigley all together make it worth seeing.

*Mari-Cookie trailer starts a 9:43

The Art of Love (1983)

The 80’s were an interesting and slightly trying time for Walerian Borowczyk. While the controversial direction taken by Borowczyk in the 70’s with films like Immoral Tales (1974) and The Beast (1975) resulted in Borowczyk’s fall from the good graces of critics, the films were nonetheless profitable. By the 80’s however Borowczyk didn’t have the easiest time of getting financial backing for projects, perhaps in part due to changing markets but the types of films Borowczyk had in mind weren’t an easy sell to producers looking for straightforward “erotic” films, a label which Borowczyk loathed. Borowczyk started the 80’s off with Lulu (1980), based on the Lulu plays of Frank Wedekind which featured a cameo by Udo Kier as Jack the Ripper which in some ways foreshadowed Borowczyk’s next film Dr. Jekyll and His Women (1981) which starred Kier. Perhaps due to its ancient Rome setting, Borowczyk probably didn’t have quite such a hard time getting his follow up to Dr. Jekyll and His Women, 1983’s The Art of Love off the ground, and perhaps not coincidentally with Italian funds, what with ancient Roman themed films still being quite popular due to the notoriety of Caligula (1979). The Art of Love however is no mere Caligula cash-in. In pure Borowczyk fashion its a curious film that couldn’t have come from any other filmmaker and one that over the years has been slightly overlooked.

Claudia (Marina Pierro), the wife of high ranking military officer Macarius begins an affair with the considerably younger Cornelius while her husband is away on a military expedition. Cornelius is a student of the poet Ovid who teaches his pupils “the art of love”, or rather seduction and one of his students even manages to seduce Macarius’ mother Clio. Not long after his return Macarius learns of Claudia’s infidelity as well as his mothers indiscretions, the consequences of which will prove be dire for all involved.

Its fitting that The Art of Love (Ars amandi) was an Italian production because the film shares several similarities with Borowczyk’s previous Italian film Behind Convent Walls (1978) with both films featuring a very loose, episodic narrative structure. The film however isn’t as nonsensical as the films structure makes it appear to be and the way Borowczyk eventually brings the film full circle is both clever and unexpected, but not before things descend into complete bedlam in classic Boro fashion. The film is loaded with Borowczyk’s trademark quirks including his unique treatment of the erotic content which culminates in one of the most bizarre and surreal segments in Borowczyk’s oeuvre featuring Pierro and a hollowed out bull which not only recalls Borowczyk’s own The Beast but is also reminiscent of the infamous horse scene in José Ramón Larraz’s The Coming of Sin (1978). Although not as overt as some of Borowczyk’s other films in its jabs at the establishment, Borowczyk’s anti-authoritarian attitude makes some select appearances and of course Borowczyk also makes time for some absurdist humor based around the antics of a troublemaking bird. Visually the film is also similar to Behind Convent Walls with its handheld camera work, soft focus photography and Borowczyk’s masterful use of light which just beams off of various objects throughout the film especially Pierro. More often than not Borowczyk frames Pierro, who is in especially fine form here, as if she were an angel surrounded by a halo of light, the effects of which are astonishing.

To further emphasize the issues Borowczyk had with producers, during the filming for The Art of Love Borowczyk was forced to endure many instances of producer interference, the results of which are featured in the film in the form of spliced in footage from Joe D’Amato’s Caligula: The Untold Story (1982). Around the time of The Art of Love Borowczyk had several ambitious ideas for film projects although none of them ever came to be and it would be another three years before Borowczyk would make another feature which would end up being Emmanuelle V (1987). Although the film does have its fans the film is seen by many as an artistic low point for Borowczyk even though at this point its fairly well known that the majority of the films principle photography was done by the AD. Borowczyk rebounded though in a big way with the staggeringly brilliant and still criminally under seen Love Rites (1988) which would eventually wind up being his last feature film. As for The Art of Love, its unlikely that the film will ever be held in the same high regard as films like Goto, Island of Love (1968) or Immoral Tales. Nevertheless its one of Borowczyk’s most visually astounding films featuring yet another fantastic turn from Pierro and despite the obviously spliced in footage, the film remains for a most part a quintessentially Borowczyk experience.

Fear City (1984)

Setting aside his 1993 adaptation of The Body Snatchers simply titled Body Snatchers, Abel Ferrara has never done a “traditional” genre film. Although its title may have had viewers expecting wall to wall blood and gore and a British video box who’s front cover was enough to land the film on the infamous video nasties list, Ferrara’s debut (non-adult) feature The Driller Killer (1979) was far more psychological than most elitist snobs would give it credit for. Ferrara followed up The Driller Killer with Ms. 45 (1981), a film which is miles beyond others in the rape/revenge genre thanks to the brilliant lead performance from Zoë Lund (who would later go on to write one of Ferrara’s masterpieces Bad Lieutenant (1992) and Ferrara’s unique visual approach perfectly blending the films sleazy aesthetic with stylish direction. The of course there’s his brilliant take on vampires The Addiction (1995), a film which is in a league of its own when it comes to vampires and to this day there still isn’t any other film remotely like it. Fear City was Ferrara’s third major film and his follow up to Ms. 45, and its defiantly a genre film, one that refuses to sit comfortably in one genre or another. Part slasher, part cop thriller, part mob movie, part drama and even featuring some martial arts/action film elements, Fear City is one of Ferrara’s most entertaining films.  

All across New York City an unknown assailant known as “The New York Knifer” has been attacking the city’s stripper population. Coincidently, all the victims belong to an agency co-operated by troubled ex-boxer Matt Rossi (Tom Berenger) that hires out dancers to various clubs throughout the city. With more girls turning up dead, Rossi begins to feel pressure from not only the mob boss who controls the agency, but also from Al Wheeler (Billy Dee Williams), the head detective on the case who’s had it out for Rossi for years and is convinced he’s involved somehow. With both sides of the law on his back, Rossi decides to take matters into his own hands and is determined to catch the killer himself while confronting some personal demons of his own in the process.

Considerably pulpier than both The Driller Killer and Ms. 45, Fear City is nonetheless a quintessential Ferrara film in the way it offers a nice amount of dramatic substance and psychology to go along with all the stripper slicing. Considering the wide variety of genres and subgenres the film dabbles in on the surface the film might seem all over the place tonally speaking but Ferrara balances everything out nicely so not one aspect of the film cancels out another. As much as the film is about the killer, its also equally somewhat of a character study of Rossi which also includes a well executed romantic subplot involving Rossi’s ex-girlfriend Loretta playing by Melanie Griffith in an early big role. Its Berenger who really makes the drama of the film work so well as he brings so much more to the role of Rossi than just the stereotypical “sensitive tough guy”. Ferrara’s clever way of working Rossi’s boxing past into the main storyline was not only a great way to bring more depth to the character but it also gave the nameless killer a creditable opponent. The killer by the way also happens to be an expert in martial arts which leads to one really innovative subway attack sequence as well as an unquestionably 80’s training montage. Naturally Ferrara presents everything in his trademark meeting of the middle of 42nd St. grime and high style which at this point he had perfected after having really found his directorial calling card with Ms. 45.

According to Ferrara the idea for Fear City actually predated The Driller Killer with screenwriter Nicholas St. John writing the first script for the film in 1975. The original idea for the film was more psychological from the killers standpoint and by the time the film actually got made in 1984 the finished product was drastically different from that first script. The film does deal somewhat with the killers motivations although its obviously not the main focus of the film. Still its pretty fascinating to know how long Ferrara had the idea for the film and how much of that original vision remained in the final film. Ferrara has also stated that at the time the first script for the film was written he and St. John actually lived behind an agency like the one depicted in the film which played a big hand in the inspiration for the story. Fear City is also important as it was Ferrara’s first Hollywood production with a good sized budget behind it. Ferrara would go on to describe the film as “taking the payday” which sounds a bit dismissive although its hardly a film to be ashamed of with its original melding of genres and flawless cast. Fear City is again one of Ferrara’s most entertaining films, and a considering the films that came before and after it, its placement in Ferrara’s filmography makes complete sense.

Craving Desire (1993)

AKA Désir meurtrier (Murderous Desire), Sonjas Exzesse (Sonia’s Excesses) and Deseo de amor (Desire for Love)

Sergio Martino has certainly had an interesting career, one which epitomizes the term “running the gamut”. Martino got his start making mondo films before eventually finding his true calling in the giallo genre. Bava may have started it and Argento may have popularized it, but for all intensive purposes, Martino is the king of the giallo with his collaborations with Euro goddess Edwige Fenech The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh (1971), All the Colors of the Dark (1972), Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (1972) along with films like The Case of the Scorpion’s Tail (1971) and Torso (1973) being the standard setters for the genre. Martino’s filmography is all over the map ranging from giallo’s to Euro crime efforts like Gambling City (1975), his entry into the cannibal genre The Mountain of the Cannibal God (1978), creature films such as Island of the Fishmen (1979) and The Big Alligator River (1979) and post-apocalyptic fare with 2019: After the Fall of New York (1983). During the height of the 90’s erotic thriller craze, Martino threw his hat in the ring with Craving Desire. While its probably never going to be as highly regarded as his giallo masterpieces, Craving Desire is nonetheless one of Martino’s most enjoyable films and one of the best of his post-70’s output along with being of best erotic thrillers from the genres heyday.

Luigi (Ron Nummi) is a man who’s going places with a great job and a beautiful fiancé. His life takes an unexpected turn however when his cousin Sonia (Vittotia Belvedere), whom he had recently been acquainted with after having not seen since childhood shows up at his door claiming to have nowhere else to go and Luigi agrees for her to stay with him. There is an obvious attraction between the two and although Luigi initially tries to fight it, the two begin a passionate affair with Luigi eventually calling off his engagement. At first the relationship seems to reinvigorate Luigi and brings some excitement into his life although things start to go south when Sonia’s idea of fun begins to include breaking the law, and with her behavior becoming more and more erratic, dangerously erratic in fact, Luigi discovers the hard way that getting involved with Sonia was a serious mistake.

French DVD

First and foremost there’s no mistaking Craving Desire (Graffiante desiderio) for having been made in any other time period as everything about the film just screams early 90’s erotic thriller. Not that’s a bad thing, however considering the talent involved it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Craving Desire is miles beyond other films of its type. For starters there’s the films taboo subject matter and the fact that the entire cast “gets it”. There’s no pretension to be found here, everyone involved knew exactly the type of film they were making and relishing in it and there are moments of sleazy humor peppered throughout the film to further emphasize this. Speaking of the cast, normally with these kinds of films the cast is chosen based solely on their looks and nothing more although that cannot be said in the case of Craving Desire. Ron Nummi was perfect for the role of Luigi as he has a presence about him that suited all of Luigi’s characteristics to a T, from being the ambitious business man as well as being the innocent, naïve boyish type that could be easily duped. Good as Nummi is, this is Vittoria Belvedere’s show to steal. Not only is Belvedere unbelievably gorgeous, she can actually act and like Nummi is convincing in portraying every aspect of Sonia’s personality particularly during the films third act where her psychotic side takes over, and while nowhere near as visually excessive as Martino’s giallo’s, the finished product is still rather slick in presentation.

Craving Desire was released on DVD in 2009 by Mya Communication, a company who has put out a lot of Martino’s films and one that catches a lot of negative criticism. Most of the criticism seems to be with the picture quality on the DVD’s but they also have a habit of re-titling films and/or releasing films under alternate titles instead of the original ones which can lead to some confusion especially if one films alternate title is another films original. In the case of Martino, they’ve released The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh under one of its alternate titles Blade of the Ripper and their release of The Big Alligator River is simply titled Alligator, not to be confused with the 1980 film of the same name. Mya also put out Martino’s The Smile of the Fox (1992), another erotic thriller as Naked Obsession which happens to be the name of another 1990 erotic thriller. As for their DVD of Craving Desire, no complaints. It looks as good as a film like this is probably ever going to look and although the disc is bare bones at least its English friendly. So while Craving Desire probably isn’t going to be celebrated by many as much as Martino’s 70’s films it is a highlight of Martino’s later career and as far as sleazy erotic thrillers go, they don’t get much better than this.      

The Demoniacs (1974)

AKA Curse of the Living Dead

Jean Rollin’s name may be synonymous with vampires however anyone with a knowledge of Rollin’s entire body of work knows the man was far from a one trick pony. Rollin had a signature directorial style that was not only almost instantly identifiable but he had the ability to bring that style to basically any subgenre within the realm of horror and the fantastic and make it work. Not too many filmmakers would even think of approaching a zombie film the way Rollin approached The Grapes of Death (1978) or The Living Dead Girl (1982). While obviously influenced by early Cronenberg, Night of the Hunted (1980) is an emotional piece of surrealist sci-fi that is quintessentially Rollin in execution, and even a film like The Escapees (1981) which on the surface may seem a bit atypical at first glance has Rollin’s fingerprints all over it. By 1974 Rollin had essentially found and perfected his style with films like Shiver of the Vampires (1970) and Requiem for a Vampire (1971) under his belt so it was interesting (albeit in true maverick fashion) that he decided to try something different after those films which resulted in the minimal masterpiece The Iron Rose (1973), and Rollin’s return to the horror genre following two erotic films, 1974’s The Demoniacs, one of the oddest and most original revenge films from the 70’s was again something different yet unmistakably Rollin.

After looting the contents of a crashed ship which they purposefully lured into rocks, a gang of pirates or “wreckers” brutally rape and leave for dead the two young girls who were the only survivors of the wreck. Wracked by the nervousness of having their crime discovered and with the Captain seeing visions of the girls, the gang set out to find the girls and finish them off for good however they escape again, finding they way to some ruins on the edge of the village where the girls encounter the guardians who inform them of a powerful demonic entity imprisoned in the ruins. The girls release the demon who in turn rewards them with the powers needed for one night to exact their vengeance on the pirates.  

Technically, The Demoniacs (Les démoniaques) could be seen as a rape/revenge film however with this being a Rollin film it is unlike any other rape/revenge film to come before or after it. What could have been a fairly straightforward tale of revenge becomes something else entirely with Rollin throwing in various random ingredients including superstition, cursed villages, guardian clowns and prostitutes with second sights. Not much back story is given regarding the demon jailed in the ruins or just how or why the village is cursed so the film probably won’t make much sense to those not familiar with Rollin from a narrative perspective, however it doesn’t need to as like all Rollin films, subconsciously it all resonates with no explanation needed. Obviously given the subject matter it doesn’t take much to make the two girls (one of Rollin’s most recognizable motifs) who’s names are never revealed easy to sympathize with and root for, and the two actresses portraying the protagonists both have incredible screen presence, especially Lieva Lone in sadly her only known film role. The same can be said of the pirates with John Rico as the lunatic Capitan and Joëlle Coeur who easily steals the show as the Tina, the one female in the group who is perhaps the most sadistic out of the four who really goes for it during the films gut punch of a finale, defiantly one of Rollin’s most stinging climaxes which is only made more so by the morose piano music courtesy of Pierre Raph.

Interesting to point out that actress Mireille Dargent who plays the clown in the ruins also played the graveyard clown in The Iron Rose. Other Rollin regulars are also featured in the film, most notably Louise Dhour as the all knowing prostitute conveniently named Louise and Paul Bisciglia in the role of one of the pirates should be a familiar face to Rollin fans as well. Another interesting fact regarding the film was the 1st AD was Miletic Zivomir, the actor playing the demon and was apparently quite useless in the role of 1st AD, so writer and friend of Rollin’s Jean-Pierre Bouyxou who was originally to be just an extra in the film basically took over 1st AD duties. Its also worth noting that the film was Rollin’s first to have decent budget and the money did come in handy giving the film a much “larger” or “grand” feeling. Still, even with the budget it still didn’t prevent the production of the film from being prosecuted by Murphy’s Law as detailed by Tim Lucas in the liner notes to Redemption’s remastered DVD. Even still, the finished product is one of the most unique entries in Rollin’s already unique body of work and a film that Rollin fans who’ve yet to see the film would benefit from checking out as it’s a prime example of Rollin’s unmistakable style as well as his versatility.