Deviation (1971)

It shouldn’t seem like a stretch to think that when the name of José Ramón Larraz is brought up the film that immediately springs to the minds of most folks is Vampyres (1974), which is understandable seeing as how that film was pivotal for not only Larraz’s career but also for that era of European sleazy horror/exploitation filmmaking. What more casual fans might not be aware of however is the films Larraz made leading up to  Vampyres, for instance his debut Whirlpool (1970), Scream and Die (1973) and Symptoms (1974) plus several others that came after such as the notorious Black Candles (1982), Edge of the Axe (1988), which actually has seen a bit of a rediscovery over the last few years, a beautiful thing of course, and Deadly Manor (1990) are worthy of the same attention. On one hand, its easy to call Larraz one of most underappreciated genre directors because lets face it, he is when taking into consideration the lack of attention that has been paid to his films in terms of DVD releases. On the other hand, Larraz has a loyal following of passionate fans who readily sing the deserved praises of his films. Deviation was Larraz’s second film following Whirlpool, and it is indeed one such film that the majority of Larraz fanatics agree is one of his best efforts showcasing a unique artist taking the next step.    

While driving down a desolate country back road late at night Paul and his mistress Olivia crash their car after swerving to avoid hitting a man that jumped out in front of them. Nearby, local brother and sister Julian and Rebecca hear the crash and offer Paul and Rebecca shelter for the night. Despite accepting their invitation, Paul is slightly untrusting of the eccentric siblings and during the night decides to do some snooping around the house only to discover that his suspicions were warranted as he is murdered by Rebecca along with Julian and their group of demented hippy friends. Julian claims that Paul has gone back to work in London and that she can stay while the car is repaired. Under the influence of drugs Julian has secretly been feeding her, Olivia quickly becomes entwined in Julian and Rebecca’s deviant world of sex and drugs, completely oblivious to their murderous tendencies.

Deviation is the logical successor to Larraz’s debut Whirlpool. Watching the two back to back is interesting as Deviation sees Larraz continue developing his favorite thematic obsessions while at the same time expanding his palate a bit. While Whirlpool was fairly straightforward from a narrative standpoint, Deviation is a tad more ambitious with Larraz throwing in some odd subplots involving taxidermy and even a psychic aunt so needless to say things become a bit strange, especially when Julian and Rebecca’s friends, no doubt inspired by the Manson family show up. The added element of having Olivia constantly be under the influence was a nice touch, allowing a for a good amount of ambiguity concerning certain plot points. This film may be paced a bit faster than Whirlpool, but Larraz still successfully takes his time with the way he has the film play out, and there is never a dull moment, especially when considering the type of material Larraz is dealing with, not to mention the mysterious personalities of the characters,  Rebecca especially is particularly interesting and the spidery presence of actress Lisbet Lundquist makes her all the more fascinating. Deviation also finds Larraz becoming more stylish behind the camera, and its with this film that he really beings to show off his knack for getting the most out of his locations. The films opening credits sequence is a definite highlight featuring Lundquist running though a forest surrounded by brown foliage and the drug fueled orgies makes for some nice visual delirium.

Unlike Whirlpool, Deviation actually did eventually find its way to home video via a scratchy VHS courtesy of Marquis Video, a Canadian label complete with extremely misleading box art which, according to IMDb is a photo from Fred Olen Ray’s film Scalps (1983). Also according to IMDb, that film was also released around the same time on the same label although why exactly they company felt it necessary to feature a still from it on the box for Larraz’s film is anyone’s guess. To this day, Deviation, and this should come as no surprise to anybody, has yet to see an official DVD release so for now DVD-R is the way to go. Luckily there are those out there who believe that films like this need to be seen and there are several sites that sell copies of this film. Its fairly easy to find for generous prices so it really just comes down to the online retailer of preference. Again, Deviation is Larraz taking his next cinematic leap forward, both thematically but also visually, with Larraz showing off a bit more behind the camera letting his background in art start to shine through, something which would be become more and more evident the more films he made. More involving than the average so called “Euro sleaze” affair and in no short supply of intrigue, Deviation is ultimately one of Larraz’s most accomplished films.    

Whirlpool (1970)

AKA Perversion Flash

Years before he directed Euro horror classics such as Vampyres (1974) and Black Candles (1982) for which he is best known for, the still unheralded brilliant Spanish filmmaker José Ramón Larraz made a name for himself in the world of comic book art. This was during the rule of dictator Francisco Franco, and much to Larraz’s annoyance the tyrannical censorship imposed by Franco’s government (which also led to fellow Spaniard, the late, very great Jess Franco leaving his home country to make films) was felt by all forms of art, including comics. In the 1999 Channel 4 documentary series Eurotika! episode dedicated to his films, “From Barcelona to Tunbridge Wells”, Larraz recounts a particularly petty issue the censors had with an image he drew of a woman with her lips partly separated, which was considered way to sensual, therefore it had to be cut from the publication. After leaving Spain, Larraz told a friend how he’d been interested in making films for a while to which, according to Larraz, his response was a “romantic view of the film industry” consisting of just get a camera and actors and make the film you want to make, don’t worry about any studios. Sound advice, which Larraz followed when he came out of the gate swinging with his first film as a director, Whirlpool, a definite statement from a first time filmmaker of there ever was one.

Tulia, a young, beautiful yet extremely naïve model agrees to spend some time at the cabin home of Sara, an acquaintance of her photographer boss, and her shy nephew Theo, who also happens to be a photographer. Tulia and Theo quickly develop a bond, and not long after Tulia lets go of all her inhibitions and becomes a player in Sarah and Theo’s sexual games. The entire time however, Sarah and Theo are constantly speaking of Rhonda, their previous guest at the cabin whom Sarah was rather fond of. Tulia eventually becomes increasingly suspicious of what happened to this Rhonda, and when a stranger claiming to be Rhonda’s lover shows up inquiring about her whereabouts, her curiosity becomes even greater leading Tulia to try and seek out the truth about what really happened to Rhonda.    

Whirlpool is clearly a sign of things to come from Larraz with future films like Deviation (1971) and Scream and Die (1973) with its themes of voyeurism and incest, its jolting blend of sex and violence and its isolated countryside setting along with the sense of isolation that comes with it. Despite this being his first film, Larraz already had a pretty good handle on these devices and puts each to excellent use to add fuel to the mystery that’s central to the film. Whirlpool is a slow burn make no mistake, yet not one boring moment is to be found thanks to Larraz’s presentation of the story. Sure, clues are dropped thorough, but Larraz makes nothing obvious, waiting until the moment is crucial to reveal information pertaining to the mystery, the intrigue lasts until the films final moments. This was an amateur production with hardly a budget to be found which is something that shows in certain parts of the film and its not without its moments of questionable dialogue and clunky delivery of said dialogue but these moments are few and far between and in no way does it throw off the films consistency at all, in fact leading man Karl Lanchbury, who would become Larraz’s go to guy for the next few years, is quite impressive in the role of Theo. He has a very charming boy next door-ish quality about him, but he also has the ability to turn on a dime make things very awkward and uncomfortable.

For the longest time Whirlpool was thought to have been lost until a few years back a beat up time coded print was miraculously discovered and began making the grey market DVD-R circuit. As a whole, its not horrible looking, although the picture is very soft and certain portions of the film seem to look more murky and washed out than others. The sound can get a big muffled at times too, but that may also be a speaker issue and again there is a timer running across the top of the screen for the entire film. Of course nobody has attempted to clean it up and give it the proper release it deserves which sadly is par for the course when it comes to the majority of Larraz’s films, so until that day comes that’s the only way to see the film. A tagline such as “She died with her boots on… and not much else” certainly doesn’t leave much to the imagination, and while its true that thorough the course of Whirlpool Larraz does offer up a healthy amount of sleaze, the film offers a hell of a lot more than what those tantalizing words on the poster might lead one to believe. Part psychological thriller, part mystery, part sexploitation, Whirlpool is an important film that’s not to be missed by not only Larraz fans but fans of Eurocult cinema in general.

Macumba Sexual (1981)

The early 1980’s were an interesting and important time for Jess Franco as they marked the maverick director’s return to his home country of Spain. Despite being a native Spaniard, Franco had mostly been working abroad in counties such as England, France, Germany, Italy amongst many others during the 60’s and 70’s producing many of his best films. Very few of Franco’s films during that time period aside from a few well known obvious exceptions were Spanish productions. Under the dictatorship of Francisco Franco (no relation) censorship in Spain was rather harsh, and Franco’s films were a causality as a result, something Jess couldn’t stand so for the sake of directorial freedom he left the country. As he humorously recounted the story of him leaving Spain for the second time “I went to see the head censor and I told him “You know I am leaving this country because you are here. You are an asshole. You piss me off. I’m leaving”. Then I left and took my plane.” After the death of General Franco, Jess received an offer to return to Spain under the promise that he would be able to make films his own way, full artistic freedom, and with the change in the counties political climate he jumped at the chance, and one such film to come out of that decision was Macumba Sexual, one of his most dizzying experiences.

Alice Brooks (Lina Romay, billed here under her pseudonym “Candy Coaster”) is constantly being plagued by the same reoccurring nightmare involving a mysterious woman named Tara (Ajita Wilson). While vacationing with her husband, Alice, a real estate agent gets a call from her boss saying that one Princes Obongo is interested in purchasing a property from the agency Alice works for. After making the trek to the Princesses nearby island retreat Alice discovers, much to her shock that Princes Obongo is in fact Tara, the woman from her dreams in the flesh and it soon becomes apparent that her reasoning’s for summoning Alice have nothing to do with real estate as Alice’s existence  becomes increasingly hallucinatory as Princess Obongo beings to initiate Alice into her delirious world of sexual voodoo.  

Macumba Sexual sees Franco take themes initially developed in films such as Vampyros Lesbos (1971) and to a certain extent Female Vampire (1973) and Lorna the Exorcist (1974) and take them to the next level, the idea of an otherworldly female who’s allure is all consuming with the ability to completely possess whomever they intend to, overtaking both mind and body. Much like Soledad Miranda’s Countess Carody in Vampyros Lesbos, Wilson’s Tara/Princess Obongo first appears in the protagonist’s dreams as a figment of their subconscious, but here Franco plays around with the dream concept a bit more, constantly jerking us in and out of reality and fantasy until eventually everything becomes a blur and we’re fully transported into Princess Obongo’s tropical, sexual nightmare realm, which is really the way the film was meant to play out. Narrative does take a bit of a backseat the more the film moves forward but for good measure Franco adds a bit of voodoo-esque mythology to Obongo’s character which provides some nice insight into her intentions while allowing her mysterious aura to remain in tact. As for Wilson herself in the role of Obongo, the part was tailor made for her. Franco described her best when he said “She wasn’t an actress. She was a presence. As they say in France, a force of nature.” A force of nature, that essentially is what Wilson is in this film. That presence Franco speaks of is equally psychical and imposing as it is enticing. Truly her finest hour.

Being back in Spain Franco certainly had a plethora of gorgeous locations to chose from, something he took full advantage of by choosing to shoot the film on the Canary Islands, Grand Canaria to be more specific. Aside from Grand Canaria’s obvious photographic attributes, Franco picked the island due to its unique atmosphere, with its local legends and superstitions playing a big part in the films more supernatural elements. From a directorial standpoint Macumba Sexual is one of Franco’s most accomplished loaded from start to finish with expertly framed shots, and Franco really outdid himself here when it comes to the way he staged many of the shots. The film opens with a striking image of a mostly silhouetted Wilson bathed in sunlight raising her arms to sky which follows with an equally lasting image of Wilson leading 2 human slaves on leashes. Alice’s journey to Princes Obongo’s home is an odyssey in itself, purposely prolonged, taking place on camelback of all things while somewhat Arabic sounding music and chanting plays overtop everything, its really a spellbinding sight and a perfect example of Franco’s ability to take something as simple as people riding camels and make it trance inducing. For added visual flair which also ties in with the voodoo aspect of the story Franco focuses the camera on the many ominous looking wood statues that surround Obongo’s abode, and there’s one reoccurring visual motif featuring a symbolic object of particular importance strategically placed on Wilson’s person that’s pure Franco.

During the “Voodoo Jess” interview segment featuring both Jess and Lina on Severin’s excellent DVD release of the film Jess states that the original title of the film was simply “Macumba” but was later changed to Macumba Sexual when the film was released. Jess and Lina also humorously opine on star Ajita Wilson’s (alleged) transexuality with Jess saying “I don’t know if she was an operated man but if she was an operated man she was a very well operated man. Bravo for the doctors because it didn’t show at all like a man.” Lina on the other hand saw it a bit differently stating “Take my word for it. She was completely transsexual.” If anybody would know it would have to be Lina having gotten very up close and personal with Wilson several times throughout the film. Of course none of that mattered to Jess as he put it because she helped the film. That same segment also features Jess and Lina discussing how they first met and how their relationship developed into what it eventually became. Its really a touching segment although watching it now is a bit bittersweet seeing as how both are gone. Macumba Sexual is an important film, not only marking Franco’s return to Spain but it sees him bringing fresh ideas to the table while tackling familiar subject matter making it an essential addition to any Franco collection.    

Murder! (1930)

With 1927’s The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog Alfred Hitchcock established himself as a force to be reckoned with behind the camera. While The Lodger may have only been Hitchcock’s third film (it would have been his fifth had his first 2 been completed) the amount of skill on display in that film not to mention the innovative camera techniques and the inclusion of influences from the German expressionist movement mistaking the film for the work of a veteran filmmaker wouldn’t be without warrant, especially considering the time period in which it was released. Its also the film that Hitchcock often referred to as his real “first” film as it was the first of his films to deal with various themes he would go on to perfect and become synonymous with. Hitchcock returned to the crime thriller in 1929 with Blackmail which featured Hitchcock continuing to explore and expand upon his favorite motives. Blackmail also happened to be his first talking film (or “talkie“), while the films technical aspects may be considered primitive by today’s standards, for 1929 the film was revolutionary. Enter Murder! (get it?), Hitchcock’s third talking film in 1930. Murder! is defiantly one of Hitchcock’s variations on a theme occupying an interesting place in Hitchcock’s body of work, making great use of his favorite devices while at the same time bringing new things to the table.

Actress Diana Baring is found standing over the murdered body of Edna Druce, another actress traveling with Diana as a member of a touring troupe. Diana has no memory of what happened and is arrested, tried, found guilty and sentenced to hang. One member of the jury, Sir John Menier, who also happens to be an actor isn’t so sure, and almost immediately after delivering a verdict of guilty along with his fellow jurors begins to have second thoughts. His belief in Diana’s innocence is so strong he becomes determined to prove it himself. Enlisting the help of the stage manager of Diana’s troupe and his wife, the three set out to get to the bottom of the case in the hopes of clearing Diana’s name in time to save her from the gallows.

Technically Murder! could be classified as a whodunit but its not exactly your traditional whodunit the way Hitchcock presents the story to us. As is the case with most Hitchcock, the proceedings become increasingly more intriguing as the film moves forward as we learn more about the characters and their motivations become more and more clear. The mystery element is strong and you’ll find yourself doing just as much guess work as Sir John all throughout the film. One thing that immediately stands out about  Murder! is the films cleverness, which goes back to the film not really being a typical whodunit. One of the more brilliantly clever aspects of the film is the way Hitchcock employs the theatre and acting within the story, with the character of Sir John being an actor using his craft in his quest to save Diana leads to some pretty unique detective techniques. Murder! may have only been Hitchcock’s third film to deal with these type of subjects but even at this stage in his career nobody could stage and execute a suspense sequence like Hitchcock and one certain “audition” sequence in this film stands out as being an absolute nail biter and what makes it even more effective its perfect placement in the film timing wise. Hitchcock’s ability to find black humor in the most dire of situations is evident here as well, with the jury deliberation scene being particularly hilarious by way of the jurors ganging up on Sir John and one overtly jittery juror.

Murder! happens to hold a very important place in film history as it was the first film to feature an interior monologue actually being heard on screen, which was done by having actor Herbert Marshall pre-record his lines and the recording was then played during the scene where we here Sir John’s inner thoughts, while an orchestra played nearby supplying the music on Sir John’s radio. A far cry from just doing a voice over in a studio during post but just another example of Hitchcock being ahead of the rest. Like a lot of Hitchcock’s early British films Murder! was public domain for many years and has seen quite a few VHS and DVD releases. Interesting to note that the original version of the film ran at about 104 minutes while most of the home video releases have a run time of 92 minutes. The 104 minute version was finally restored and released in a box set along with 4 other early Hitchcock films in 2007, although according to one review on Amazon an important scene happens to be missing from the print! The film isn’t a difficult or expensive find and while most prints aren’t exactly pristine they’re hardly unwatchable so its really a matter of preference which copy to pick up, but its an important film to pick up and to witness Hitchcock further perfect his already near perfect craft.

Immoral Women (1979)

AKA Les Héroïnes du Mal (Heroines of Evil) and Three Immoral Women (Tre Donne Immorali)

The classic 1974 anthology film Immoral Tales was an incredibly important entry into the filmography of Walerian Borowczyk. Aside from giving us the now iconic image of Paloma Picasso (daughter of Pablo) bathing in a tub filled with pigs blood during her portrayal of the blood countess Elizabeth Bathory in the films third segment, it was a film that thematically set the course for what was yet to come from Borowczyk. It was also the film that began Borowczyk’s banishment from the good graces of critics. Prior to Immoral Tales, Borowczyk’ animations as well as his debut live action feature film Goto, Island of Love (1968) and its follow-up Blanche (1971) won him various festival prizes and even had many hailing him, rightfully so, as a genius. Although Immoral Tales won the festival choice award at the 17th Regus London Film Festival, the films taboo content  ultimately proved to be too much at the time for the snooty critical establishment (the fact that the film made a lot of money probably irked them even more). Not that Borowczyk ever let critical opinion sway him, he let that be known loud and clear with The Beast (1975) and the rest of his body of work speaks for itself. 5 years after Immoral Tales, Borowczyk returned to the anthology film with Immoral Women, which could be seen as somewhat of a sequel to Immoral Tales.  

Split up into 3 segments, Immoral Women focuses on 3 individual women set against different time periods. Margarita - In renaissance Italy Margarita Luti (Marina Pierro) the beautiful daughter of a baker hatches a get rich quick scheme by using her natural charms to seduce and become the model of Raphael, a young artist commissioned by the Pope for a very lucrative sum to create new fresco’s for the Vatican. Margarita’s greed quickly escalates and it soon becomes apparent that she’ll go to any extreme necessary to get what she wants. Marceline - Marceline (Gaëlle Legrand), a whimsical teenager in 18th centaury France is closer to her pet bunny Pinky than society would deem acceptable. Disapproving of all the time Marceline spends with Pinky, her overbearing parents take matters into their own hands unprepared for the consequences. Marie - In contemporary Paris, Marie (Pascale Christophe) is kidnapped in broad daylight. Her captor demands her husband pay a ransom fee, threatening Marie’s life if payment is not made. When her husband fails to rise to the occasion, Marie finds an unlikely hero in her dog Caesar, rewarding him in her own unique way.

There’s no mistaking Immoral Women for the work of any other filmmaker. From the playful eroticism that oftentimes takes a turn for the bizarre (especially during the second and third segments), the jabs at the church and uptight, upper class society and oddball humor, all three segments of the film feature the majority of Borowczyk’s trademarks. Much like his previous film Behind Convent Walls (1978), its the humor that comes to the forefront, specifically during Margareta and Marceline’s tales. The comedic elements of the former are fairly traditional (“traditional” for Borowczyk anyway), even featuring a pretty elaborately set up gag involving a maze-like structure complete with dead ends and trap doors. Its during this first episode where Borowczyk takes his usual shots at the church and the brief moments involving a mud-slinging painter are hysterical albeit random. Its during Marceline’s segment where the humor goes into the off the wall territory by way of Marceline’s parents and maid’s behavior during family meals plus the singing “talents“ of Marceline‘s mother. This particular segment was based on the writing of André Pieyre de Mandiargues which would explain the surreal sense of humor. The second meal sequence in particular is as unusual as it is side-splittingly hilarious due to the overt absurdness of it all which also ties in with Marie’s segment. For the most part this final chapter of the film does seem to the be “odd woman out” so to speak but its final outrageous moments are a fitting way to cap the film off.  

Naturally painting and texture play a massive role during Margarita considering the history of the story plus Borowczyk’s history as a painter, there are several shots which could have easily been transported from the canvas to the screen and vice versa. There are a few instances during Marceline featuring hanging meat carcasses which will perhaps spring to mind thoughts of painting as well. Borowczyk’s affinity for period pieces is ever apparent during Margarita and he has perhaps never filmed Pierro more beautifully than he does here. Pierro not only couldn’t have been more perfect for the role of Margarita but it was only fitting for Borowczyk to cast his gorgeous muse in the role of one of history’s most gorgeous muses. With Marceline, the most notorious of the three stories, Borowczyk makes expert use of soft focus making the whites of Marceline’s garb and of course the bright fur of the rabbit beam. Speaking of, Borowczyk stages and films the infamous scenes of Marceline and the rabbit in such a manner that, believe it or not, they actually don’t appear nearly as exploitative as they might sound on paper while at the same time obviously being objectionable enough to make many a squeamish viewer very uncomfortable. Marie again sticks out like a sore thumb visually on account of its modern setting and knowing Borowczyk’s rather cold view of the modern world so its no surprise to see him playing it fairly straight for the majority of this episode, although  Christophe’s presence makes up for it.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that the original theatrical poster for the film featuring provocative images of Gaëlle Legrand and Pinky the rabbit ruffled a few feathers back in 1979, and when the film made its way to DVD in 2007 courtesy of Severin (a fantastic looking release by the way) the poster art once again caused a bit of a stir with Severin posting a statement on their website reading: “One day following its heralded release, a prominent US retailer has unceremoniously returned all copies of IMMORAL WOMEN due to what has been reported as its 'offensive' packaging. Despite the fact that the cover art replicates imagery used on its 1979 theatrical posters, morally sensitive folk at the chain found the suggestive shots of bunny-lust to be too much for their customers.” On another somewhat humorous note, actress Pascale Christophe appeared in a Disney production of all things for television in 1977. She was also featured in Immoral Tales as Countess Bathory’s servant. Immoral Women might not carry the same reputation as Borowczyk’s previous Immoral film but in no way should it be considered a so called “lesser” work. As described above, all three stories feature several of Borowczyk’s visual and thematic trademarks, and with Marceline containing some of his most audacious and lasting imagery, in the grand scheme of things Immoral Women is an essential addition to any Borowczyk collection.

Requiem For a Vampire (1971)

AKA Caged Virgins

While The Iron Rose (1973) may be my all time favorite Jean Rollin film in general, of all the vampire films for which he is perhaps most well known, Requiem For a Vampire is my personal favorite, and its known to be Rollin’s favorite as well. I bring up The Iron Rose for a reason, as its often considered by many, not just fans but also several of Rollin’s collaborators to be Rollin at his most pure, and I happen to believe that Requiem For a Vampire also shares this distinction. Rollin even compared the two films himself based on the simplistic way both films were constructed stating in a 1998 video introduction on an early DVD release of The Iron Rose stating “I can make parallels between (The Iron Rose) and Requiem. Its the same simplicity somewhere, you know? Requiem, no dialogue, and Rose de Fer only two people, you know? Its practically the same meaning for me.” I’ve mentioned before that Rollin was one of those filmmakers that forever changed the way I view cinema and Requiem For a Vampire was one of his films that played a huge hand in turning me into a Rollin convert. Its true that all of Rollin’s films, not just his vampire films, stand out in their own unique ways, but there was always something about Requiem that made it stand out just a bit more.

After the driver of their getaway car is killed in the midst of a shootout, two young girls (Marie-Pierre Castel and Mireille Dargent) on the run disguised as clowns quickly dispose of their vehicle and make a go for it on foot, eventually finding themselves outside a seemingly abandoned massive chateau. Not long after exploring the grounds the two encounter a vampire woman and are soon chased by three brutish men. The woman, Erica (Dominique) along with another, Louise (Louise Dhour) and the brutes are the minions of the Last Vampire, a once powerful creature who’s strength has dwindled over time. The girls are taken prisoner and forced to lure victims to the castle, while the Last Vampire prepares to eventually turn the two girls into vampires so the bloodline will not die off.

If The Shiver of the Vampires (1970) is where Rollin found his directorial style than Requiem For a Vampire (Requiem pour un Vampire) is where he settled in and perfected it. For the most part all of the elements that would become his trademarks throughout his career are present, the one omission obviously being Rollin’s favorite beach near Dieppe. Rollin was quoted as saying he wrote the script in two days, writing whatever came to him basically with no filter, letting the film become what it was to become and the film plays out like that on screen. While Requiem isn’t as loose as say Rollin’s debut feature The Rape of the Vampire (1968), as there is a (thin) story, narrative obviously isn’t the films main intention. There is hardly any dialogue during the films first half hour or so, and even after that spoken lines are sparse, yet despite that and the fact that no explanation is given as to why the two girls were on the run in the first place, none is really needed if you’re willing to jump right in and go with the film, just as Rollin’s wrote it. There is an odd component to Rollin’s otherworldly stream of (sub)consciousness style that is apparent throughout Requiem, which is that it has the ability to make you connect with not just the characters (and that includes both the girls and the vampires) but the environment that Rollin has created on an emotional level, no matter the ambiguity.

Despite the absence of the Dieppe beach, Rollin’s other visual motifs are in abundance here. Rollin again proves how great an eye he has for location as the chateau he chose to shoot in fit the strange tone of the film which is aided immensely by Rollin’s set decoration (especially loved the cloaked skeletons standing before an altar) and of course his one of a kind choice of lighting. While this film may not be as overtly candy colored as Shiver of the Vampires, there’s certainty no shortage of moments beaming with a variety of lively colors, including a particularly notorious segment taking place in a dungeon wherein Rollin bathes the entire screen in red as well as the choice colors during the vampyric initiation ceremony in the cemetery towards the films finale, where cast member Louise Dhour plays a haunting yet beautiful piece on a grand piano. Its quite the sight (and sound) to behold and truly a scenario only Rollin could envision. Even the weather seemed to be on Rollin’s side during the shoot. Little things such as the wind blowing the extra long blades of grass in the cemetery during one of more nightmarish, hypnotic moments early on in the film combined with the overcast skies, the surrounding tombs and creaking gates just lend an extra hand in creating the films aura. Rollin even tips his hat to the brilliant French surrealist painter Clovis Trouille by way of a strategically placed bat upon a woman’s pelvic region.

Apparently the filming of Requiem was one of those rare occasions where for the most part everything went pretty smoothly. So often you hear horror stories of Rollin’s films having numerous problems during the production but that didn’t seem to be the case here. According to Natalie Perrey, Rollin’s right hand gal for many a year Rollin was as happy as can be during the films production. On the recent remastered DVD courtesy of Redemption, which by the way, is hands down the best way to view this film as its the best the film will probably ever look and sound, Perrey tells some humorous stories about the films production, such as the two cameramen, one whom had previously dated actress Dominique and the other her new husband constantly competing against each other in an effort to make her look as good as possible (not that they had to do much), and that the locals from the village where the film was shot believed Perrey to be a witch. When a film is written and produced as fast as Requiem For a Vampire was, that would perhaps raise a red flag as to its quality but with Requiem that wont be necessary. As with all Rollin it unfortunately won’t appeal to all but for those who’s tastes lean towards the unorthodox and non traditional, Requiem For a Vampire is a no-brainer. Absolutely essential Rollin.

The Rape of the Vampire (1968)

Despite the fact that Jean Rollin is one of my favorite filmmakers I haven’t written much about the late, great Frenchman on here. In fact, the only film of his I’ve covered since starting up this site is his minimal masterpiece The Iron Rose (1973) which happens to be my personal favorite film of his. Over the last decade or so there’s been a renewed interest in Rollin’s work which is a great thing of course, even better that he lived long enough to see just how many admirers his films had so naturally there’s been a good amount written about Rollin in both print and on the web. There’s even a fantastic blog dedicated to man. Much like the recently departed Jess Franco and other masters of the fantastique, Rollin’s films, for better or worse depending on the viewer as Rollin’s unique surreal style, a style that is entirely his own, is most certainly an acquired taste, forever alter you perception of cinema and what can be achieved within the medium. Personally speaking, it was altered for the better. Rollin’s debut feature film The Rape of the Vampire is certainly one of, quite possibly his most bizarre film, yet its also one that leaves one of the strongest lasting impressions, and it rounds out my Rollin top 3 along with the previously mentioned The Iron Rose and Requiem For a Vampire (1971).

Thomas, a psychoanalyst along with friends Marc and his wife Brigitte travel to a small village in an attempt to convince 4 sisters living in isolation in a remote chateau who believe they are vampires that they are not vampires but rather suffering from severe delusions after experiencing years of persecution and abuse from the superstitious villagers. This attempt ends in disaster when the villagers storm the chateau and during the ensuing melee Thomas finds out the sisters are indeed vampires when he is bitten and turned. All the chaos prompts an intervention from the Queen of the vampires, who at a nearby hospital is conducting research on her kind, while Thomas, now resurrected as a vampire, works with another doctor at the hospital whom the Queen has taken captive to quickly discover a cure for vampirism.

The Rape of the Vampire (Le Viol du Vampire) is a strange film even by Rollin standards. It’s defiantly the epitome of a just go with it type of situation, whether or not is resonates with you is a completely different story. By now it should be pretty common knowledge among Rollin fans that one, The Rape of the Vampire is actually two short films spliced together in order to make a feature length film and two, very early in the shoot everyone managed to somehow lose their scripts and the majority of the film was improvised, something that is very apparent very early on in the film. While there actually is a plot to be found in the midst of all the oddness on display, it’s as thin as can be, narrative cohesion obviously wasn’t what this film was going for, yet in no way is that a hindrance to the experience at all, in fact its quite the opposite. The very loose structure works very much in the films favor if viewed as a stream of consciousness piece brought to the screen which is basically how the film plays out. The term “dreamlike” is often used when discussing Rollin (so much so that it’s become a bit cliché) and do forgive me for once again going to that well but that description couldn’t be more fitting for a film such as The Rape of the Vampire, what with the sheer randomness of the situations and the way Rollin presents everything.

While Rollin’s subsequent films would feature extravagant and highly unorthodox candy colored lighting, The Rape of the Vampire stands out in Rollin’s filmography for being shot in black and white, although its almost immediately apparent that Rollin was a master at both mediums. The black and white photography works wonders for the film, especially during the first segment, which is the more “classic” feeling of the two. Even with this being his first film, Rollin’s genius at not only finding the best shooting locations but getting the most out of them no matter the low budget is on display, most notability in the form of the 4 sister’s chateau, with the black and white especially coming in handy during the interior shots, which combined with the lighting during nighttime exteriors, along with Rollin’s showcasing of the surrounding wooded areas of the chateau give the film a very gothic horror-esque aesthetic. The second segment is the more contemporary (well “contemporary” for 1968 anyway) even featuring a delirious free jazz score, yet there’s also a slightly futuristic element to it as well considering some of the sci-fi aspects Rollin enters into the proceedings. This abrupt change in tone may be a bit jolting for some but it makes perfect sense when taking into consideration the films free-form style.  While not as overtly atmospheric as the first segment of the film, the second is by no means any less otherworldly, which goes back to the way Rollin has everything play out, the “dreaminess” of it all.

Another well known yet nonetheless always fascinating tidbit of information regarding the film is the story of its initial theatrical release. When the film was first released in May of 1968, it was during a time of intense social unrest in France, complete with general strikes and student protests. Then president Charles de Gaulle even fled the country! To say the audience reaction to The Rape of the Vampire was unkind would be the understatement of understatements. Apparently a surreal arthouse vampire film isn’t what French filmgoers were expecting when they paid for their ticket, nor was it what they wanted to see during such an intense time period as riots broke out in the theatres with the seats even being ripped from the floor. Quite the reaction for a debut film. The Rape of the Vampire isn’t exactly the best place to start for Rollin newcomers, in fact it may even be a challenge for those already accustomed to Rollin’s one of a kind style, and its liable to scare first timers away from the mans work forever, yet despite all that its an important film that should be seen by all Rollin fans and those with an interest in his work at some point.  Its defiantly a film for the most adventurous of viewers but its an adventure that’s well worth taking if you’re willing to go along for the ride.