Sinfonía erótica (1980)

It's rather funny to think that despite the majority of his work being considered “unfilmable” by many, the Marquis de Sade's influence looms large in film. The most famous example would obviously be Pier Paolo Pasolini's adaptation of The 120 Days of Sodom, Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom (1975), but there have been a multitude of films featuring a strong Sadean influence even without being adaptations of Sade's writings. Salò may be the first thing that comes to mind for many whenever Sade-based films are mentioned, but the filmmaker most commonly associated with Sade would have to be Jess Franco. Beginning with Justine (1968) and going all the way through to his digital era with Flowers of Perversion (2005), the divine Marquis provided Franco with material for numerous films. Philosophy in the Bedroom was Franco's go-to Sade text, with Franco altering the material for celluloid while always retaining the spirit of the author in films like Eugenie... the Story of Her Journey into Perversion (1969) and Plaisir à trois (1973) and even injecting it into films with no direct Sade connections like Countess Perverse (1973) or The Sexual Story of O (1984). Upon his return to Spain in the early 80's, Franco would once again turn to the Sadean realm with Sinfonía erótica, an outstanding work and and standout film among Franco's Sade-inspired films and in Franco's filmography as a whole.

Following a long stint in an asylum, Martine de Bressac (Lina Romay) returns to her large estate shocked to discover her husband, the Marquis de Bressac, has taken in a young man, Flor, as his lover. The two also bring home Norma, a young nun the two discovered unconscious on the grounds of the estate as their plaything. With her mental state already incredibly delicate, the Marquis and Flor cruelly torment the sexually frustrated Martine, flaunting their indulgences while the presence of Norma complicates matters for both Martine and Flor resulting in fatal scheming.

Franco's films have been described as “dreamlike” to the point of redundancy but if any film earns that descriptor it's Sinfonía erótica (Erotic Symphony). The film follows a fairly linear narrative yet the events unfold in such a tranquil fashion beginning with Martine's return from the asylum, which has the delirious tone of being dropped right in the middle of a scene with the rest of the film drifting as if it was taking place under water. The “symphony” in the title couldn't have been more appropriate as the film is very much a visual symphony, the soundtrack consisting of Franz Liszt compositions with contributions from Franco himself and frequent collaborator Daniel White blaring overtop Franco's period-set, opium-induced dreamscape. The film could be considered an early, experimental long form music video, but if there's one filmmaker Franco possibly took influence from on Sinfonía erótica it's Walerian Borowczyk. With its period-setting, diffused, soft-focus, and deliberately blown-out hazy visuals, there are moments in the film that wouldn't feel out of place in a Borowczyk film from the late 70's or early 80's like Behind Convent Walls (1978) or The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Miss Osbourne (1981), yet all the while remaining unmistakably Franco, thanks in no small part to Lina Romay. Romay's extraordinary work in the film on-par with not only her own work in Lorna the Exorcist (1974) and Doriana Gray (1976) but also Soledad Miranda in Eugenie de Sade (1970) and Emma Cohen in The Other Side of the Mirror (1973).

The film is interesting when it comes to the Sade influence as it's not based on one writing but instead takes influences from two particular Sade stories, Justine being the first. In Sade's infamous tale, the Bressac name belongs to the Count de Bressac, a homosexual libertine Justine becomes employed to who orders Justine to murder his aunt, the Marquise de Bressac for the inheritance. In Franco's film adaptation of Justine, the Bressac's are husband and wife, though Justine receives the same orders in the film and just as in Sade's original, Justine and the Marquise have grown fond of each other. A certain turn of events late in the film recall Franco's adaptation of Sade's Eugenie de Franval, Eugenie de Sade, the inevitable mounting tragedy that permeates most of the stories making up The Crimes of Love, push the film further in the realm of operatic tragedy while working in tandem with the Liszt music, which again makes the title “Sinfonía erótica” a perfect namesake as Franco essentially invented his own genre, the “erotic symphony” genre, specifically for this one film. Even with the Sade connections, Sinfonía erótica still manages to feel like no other film in the Franco canon while also being the kind of film that would put a Franco naysayer in their place. A shining example of Franco's visualist brilliance and a jewel in Lina Romay's crown as well.

The Sinister Eyes of Dr. Orloff (1973)

The filmography of Jess Franco has often been described as “labyrinthian” and for good reason. Given the sheer size of his body of work, not to mention the alternate versions of many films, it's easy to become totally immersed and lost in Franco's world. An equally appropriate description of the Franco universe would be “hall of mirrors”. The more Franco films one gets under their belt, one thing that becomes very apparent is Franco's habit of repetition, with themes, locations, character names, soundtracks and sometimes previously used plots being recycled for future purposes. With a filmography of over 100 titles, the fact that Franco was able to return to various wells as much as he did throughout his career and save for a few exceptions, not have it feel lazy or stale is evidence of Franco's highly economical yet personal style of filmmaking. Some of Franco's re-occurring obsessions include sadomasochistic night club acts, mournful eroticism, mind-possessing otherworldly females, the Marquis de Sade, particularity Philosophy in the Bedroom and perhaps Franco's most important frequent guest, Dr. Orloff, with Franco's first horror film and of the earliest Spanish horror films The Awful Dr. Orolf (1962), being a landmark film for Franco. The mad doctor would provide fodder for Franco for a number of subsequent films, one of the more neglected movies being The Sinister Eyes of Dr. Orloff, an understated yet efficient effort from Franco.

At the suggestion of her-stepsister Martha, Melissa Comfort (Montserrat Prous), a young, wheelchair-bound heiress suffering from repeated nightmares involving the murder of her father. and living with her uncle Sir Robert Henry and her aunt Flora along with Martha, is put under the care of psychologist Dr. Orloff (William Berger). Orloff shocks Melissa by admitting that he knew her father and that he was murdered. Melissa's night terrors become worse when she dreams of killing her uncle, waking only to find him dead. In Dr. Orloff's hands, Melissa becomes hypnotized, evoking the suspicions of Mathews, the Comfort's butler and Melissa's one true friend, as well as Sweet Davey Brown (Robert Woods), a pop star living next door to the Comfort's estate who's become worried by the strange behavior he's observed of Martha and Flora.  

In a way it's surprising that The Sinister Eyes of Dr. Orloff (Los ojos siniestros del doctor Orloff) is so under-discussed seeing as it's an Orloff film featuring the likes of Prous, Berger and Woods but again, the film is admittedly a much more subdued affair from Franco, especially when compared to the likes of Plaisir à trois (1973), Countess Perverse (1973) or Female Vampire (1973) which were made around the same time. The biggest and most obvious difference between Sinister Eyes and the other work Franco was doing at the time would be the the dialing back of the eroticism that is front and center of so many of Franco's films. The story however is pure Franco, complete with mind-control and nefarious scheming all playing out in Franco's trademark hallucinatory fashion that at times resembles Franco's earlier, similarly themed Nightmares Come at Night (1970), the hypnosis angle letting Franco go off on a few tangents. The inclusion of the pop star neighbor Sweet Davey for instance feels utterly random, though Woods gives certain moments of film a sly sense of humor. While the story doesn't demand as much of her as Sinner: The Secret Diary of a Nymphomaniac (1973), Prous nonetheless is an instantly sympathetic centerpiece who's eyes alone are a commanding presence and the sight of her holding a dagger in a daze is an iconic Franco image while Berger is appropriately sinister as the titular Doctor, standing in for Franco regular Howard Vernon whom the role was usually preserved for.

Along with being a Euro genre favorite, William Berger is also equally known for an unfortunate incident in 1970 resulting in he and his second wife, Italian actress Carolyn Lobravico, being arrested on drug charges. Both were placed in an asylum and separated, after which Lobravico fell extremely ill. Lobravico eventually died as a result of acute peritonitis, an inflammation of the inner abdominal wall, no doubt due to maltreatment, and Berger wouldn't be released until 1971 after being sent to a different facility. Certain distributors even used the events as marketing publicity for films featuring Berger. The film is also notable for being one of Franco's own Manacoa productions which didn't always have the easiest time securing wide releases and it took a while for The Sinister Eyes of Dr. Orloff to reach screens which might account for it's stealthy under the radar status. Also worth noting is the film features an extremely early, dialogue-free appearance from Lina Romay, who was very quickly about to become Franco's main muse, as one of Sweet Davey's live-in admirers so the film is noteworthy in that respect. It might not call as much attention to itself as other Franco works from one of his most productive years, but The Sinister Eyes of Dr. Orloff, much like the awful doctor himself in the film, does produce that strange hypnosis that Franco was so adept at conjuring.