Monday, October 6, 2014

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.



Monday, September 22, 2014

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.      

Monday, September 8, 2014

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.



Monday, August 25, 2014

La belle captive (1983)

As one of the innovators and leaders (if not THE leader) of the “new novel” or nouveau roman movement, Alain Robbe-Grillet along with a handful of other radical literary thinkers completely changed the perception of the novel and what could be accomplished within the medium in terms of style, narrative (or lack thereof as it perhaps appeared to many) and characterization. Its no surprise then that when Robbe-Grillet began to work in film his attitude towards screenwriting and directing was essentially the same as his approach to literature which resulted in his Oscar nominated script for Alain Resnais’ Last Year at Marienbad (1961), a work which still manages to perplexe to this day. Just like his novels Robbe-Grillet’s films defy any sort of genre categorization. His films are often labeled “erotic”, certainly not inaccurate as his films do feature plentiful amounts of eroticism, more often than not sadomasochistic in nature, however its impossible to classify his films as straightforward “erotica”. The same goes for the “fantasy” label, or “horror” tag when films such as Eden and After (1970) or Successive Slidings of Pleasure (1974) are in question, or “thriller” when speaking of a film like witty self aware Trans-Europ-Express (1967), a “film within a film” unlike any other of the sort. Then there’s 1983’s La belle captive, a bewildering blend of surrealist mystery, fantasy and horror that’s as masterful as it is mystifying.  

Walter Raim, an agent working for a secret police origination of sorts encounters a mysterious, nameless blonde woman in a nightclub and is soon dancing with the beautiful stranger before being called away by his boss, the enigmatic Sara Zeitgeist. After receiving his job instructions from Sara, Walter discovers the prone body of the woman he was dancing with earlier bound in the road and drives to the nearest house to look for help, only to encounter a group of ominous men. One claims to be a doctor and escorts the two to a room which they soon find themselves locked in. The next morning, Walter wakes up to find the house empty and in ruins and the blonde woman missing. Utterly confounded, Walter sets out on the odd and potentially dangerous task of uncovering the identity of the blonde woman and figuring out just what happened on that night.

Almost impossible to mistake for the work of any other filmmaker, La belle captive (The Beautiful Prisoner) is a quintessential Robbe-Grillet dreamscape inspired in part by the works of Belgian surrealist painter René Magritte. Immediately after the opening credits Robbe-Grillet establishes a mood that gives off the sense that what is happening is happening outside of time in another dimension and the further Walter gets in his investigation of the mystery woman the more pronounced that mood becomes. Robbe-Grillet’s languid pacing and Walter’s noirish voice-overs heard throughout the film also add to the films already ethereal abstractions as well and give parts of the film a kind of 1940’s detective story feel. As bizarre as the film is, its must be emphasized that the film is far from being weird for weirdness sake, the central mystery is legitimately intriguing and the stranger it gets it only becomes more so with all the left curves Robbe-Grillet throws in from the added subplot of a murder investigation, the detective always on Walter’s trail, the idea that the blonde woman may or may not be the dead daughter of a man who see’s spirits and the suggestion that she may be a vampire. Of course Walter’s occupation and boss Sara Zeitgeist also come into play which give way to one of the films reoccurring visual motifs, postcards featuring a seaside landscape, just one of many Magritte inspired pieces Robbe-Grillet features prominently throughout the film which in turn also lead to several archetypal Robbe-Grillet beach set pieces.

Robbe-Grillet's novel
Despite the title, La belle captive the film is not an adaptation of Robbe-Grillet’s 1975 novel of the same name. Adding to this confusion is the Magritte influence as the book is illustrated by Magritte’s paintings strategically placed thorough the book. Of course exactly how they relate to the story Robbe-Grillet leaves open to interpretation. As for the film, it was hardly the first time nor would it be the last Robbe-Grillet turned to painting as in influence. Perhaps the most famous example of this is the iconic moment in Successive Slidings of Pleasure where Anicée Alvina channels Yves Klein by recreating one of Klein’s  Anthropométries on the walls of her convent prison cell, albeit in red naturally which was appropriate considering the film whereas Klein preferred blue. There are several references to painting in Eden and After as well with Robbe-Grillet even staging a real life recreation of Duchamp’s “Nude Descending a Staircase, No 2” and Robbe-Grillet found a muse in Eugene Delacroix for his final film Gradiva (2006). Robbe-Grillet also found an interesting inspiration for the character of Sara Zeitgeist’s name which was taken from the titular character Phoebe Zeit-Geist from the comic book The Adventures of Phoebe Zeit-Geist. Certainly an interesting combination of influences, Magritte and comic books yet its perfect for a visionary film like La belle captive, a film that like Robbe-Grillet himself, belongs to its own genre.


Monday, August 11, 2014

Gradiva (2006)

It was a long time coming, but as of June 2014 the majority of the films of Alain Robbe-Grillet, the brilliant novelist turned filmmaker are finally available on DVD in English friendly restored versions the exceptions being Playing With Fire (1975) and 1995’s The Blue Villa (Un bruit qui rend fou). As is all to often the frustrating case when it comes to many of the films by the masters of European cult cinema, for the longest time fans had make due with bootleg copies of Robbe-Grillet’s films until Kino/Redemption and BFI (in the form of a box set) released L'Immortelle (1963), Trans-Europ-Express (1967), The Man Who Lies (1968), Eden and After (1970), Successive Slidings of Pleasure (1974) and N. Takes the Dice, an alternate cut of Eden and After. Originally it was announced that Mondo Macabro was going to be the company to release those six films until the films eventually went to Redemption. Mondo Macabro however were one of the first in line when in 2009, one year after Robbe-Grillet’s passing they released his final film Gradiva making them the second company to release a Robbe-Grillet film on DVD, the first being Koch Lorber with La belle captive (1983). Robbe-Grillet may have only directed nine films, but those nine films are some of the most unique and thought provoking works in all of cult cinema and Gradiva is certainly no exception.

While studying the works of Eugène Delacroix in Morocco, art historian John Locke receives a package of slides featuring never before seen sketches done by Delacroix all featuring the same woman. Locke is determined to uncover the history behind the sketches and who the woman is and not long after he beings to have visions of the woman in the sketches wandering about the medina. Locke soon becomes obsessed with discovering the identity of the woman and her connection to Delacroix, and despite the constant warnings of his servant Belkis, Locke keeps searching which leads him into a mysterious and dangerous fantasy world of sadomasochism, doppelgangers and murder.

Whether or not Robbe-Grillet intended Gradiva (C'est Gradiva qui vous appelle, “It's Gradiva That is Calling You") to be his cinematic swan song it nonetheless made for a very fitting farewell featuring all the trademarks that his previous films employed as well as references to his past films even featuring some spliced in footage from Eden and After and Successive Slidings of Pleasure. Comparisons have been made to Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958) which are fitting considering the films obsessive theme, although at the same time Gradiva takes places in a singular universe that is quintessentially Robbe-Grillet and if there were any other films to compare it too, the two most apt would be Robbe-Grillet’s own L’Immortelle and La belle captive. To those uninitiated with Robbe-Grillet’s style or those who have a low tolerance for fragmented “narratives” the film has the potential to frustrate in that in pure Robbe-Grillet fashion time and space seem to be alien concepts in this dream world. Fantasy sequences bleed into reality and back again so much so that the two become one and the same featuring characters, oftentimes portrayed by the same actor, with multiple identities. Its a truly bewildering and intoxicating experience, one that becomes even more so when considering the delirious bursts of S&M, exotic Moroccan locations (much like he did with Istanbul in L’Immortelle, Robbe-Grillet essentially makes the medina its own character) and fantastic interior sets, including some extravagantly decorated hotel rooms which serve as the perfect backdrop for some of the films more hallucinatory moments.

Again, Mondo Macabro essentially beat everyone to the punch when it came to Robbe-Grillet with their release of Gradvia. Aside from looking amazing the DVD contained a great interview with Robbe-Grillet who discussed a variety of topics including his cinematic influences, the Marquis de Sade, the different ways he approached literature and film, his distaste for realism in film and perhaps most intriguing, his thoughts on eroticism. This leads to some particularly interesting anecdotes where Robbe-Grillet recounts his observations on how certain members of the audiences in French cinemas reacted to the erotic content of Trans-Europ-Express which also segues  into a hilarious story of how Successive Slidings of Pleasure sold more tickets in one Paris theatre than the theatre had seats. When one person would walk out of the film whoever was manning the box office would sell a ticket for recently vacated seat until eventually there would be two lines of people, one going out the exit and the other going in. Aside from Robbe-Grillet’s entertaining banter, the interview is an invaluable insight into one of the most brilliant minds in both literature and film. It can be somewhat difficult to suggest just where to begin with Robbe-Grillet due to the potentially alienating nature of his films, but for those interested or for fans who’ve yet to get to it, Gradiva is unquestionably essential. One final fever dream from a master transgressor.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Frustration (1971)

AKA The Chambermaids Dream

The term “rebel” tends to get thrown around rather liberally and in the case of cinema its often a bit questionable whether or not some of the people who are labeled as such are truly deserving of the tag. When the major figures of European cult cinema are discussed however, the term is more than accurate with filmmakers such as Jess Franco and Walerian Borowczyk amongst several others that made films (for the most part) on their own terms with no attempt to pander to the critical establishment. If there’s one Eurocult auteur who defines words like “rebel” or “maverick”, its José Bénazéraf. By his own admission Bénazéraf was the type of person who, if told not to do something would react by doing that thing in question ten times as worse, something which landed him in hot water with the French censors which eventually led to the banning of his 1966 film Joë Caligula the night before its intended premier. Aside from royally pissing Bénazéraf off that stunt by the censorship board cost him some serious coin and would play a major role in Bénazéraf eventually getting fed up with making “normal” films and eventually crossing over into full on hardcore territory. Prior to taking the hardcore route Bénazéraf helmed some truly unique films all of which bare the trademarks of a defiant artist with 1971’s Frustration easily being Bénazéraf’s undisputed masterpiece.

Adelaide (Janine Reynaud) is a single woman living with her sister Agnes (Elizabeth Teissier) and Agnes doctor husband Michel (Michel Lemoine) in their secluded countryside home. Along with being a bit socially awkward, Adelaide is sexually repressed and frustrated and constantly witnessing the affection between Agnes and Michel isn’t helping. Its apparent that Adelaide is attracted to not only Michel but her sister as well and soon her sexual frustration begins to manifest itself in the form of bizarre hallucinations which become increasingly more violent and sadomasochistic as Adelaide slips further and further into sexual psychosis.

What on paper might sound like a so called “Euro trash” riff on Polanski’s Repulsion (1965) quickly reveals itself to be something much more. Frustration is one of the best examples of Bénazéraf’s mastery of mood resulting in a film that implants itself not just in the psyche but under the skin as well which might not have been the case had it not been for the brilliant performance of Janine Reynaud. The film is light on dialogue so Reynaud’s performance is all about body language and facial expressions. Her strong presence coupled with the films lack of dialogue along with the sense of isolation from the films setting make for a fairly original type of unease. Its as if Bénazéraf’s intention is for the discomfort to be felt while watching the film is not simply psychological but physical as well. To literally “feel” Adelaide’s repression. Frustration is also one of the most imaginative films to come out of the golden era of Euro sex and horror films with Adelaide’s fantasy’s ranging from a sequence of a series of seemingly endless doors being opened revealing Agnes and Michel in variety of sexual positions to a scenario being played out in a medieval dungeon. Bénazéraf's presentation of Adelaide’s hallucinations, often loud and energetic, provide a nice jolt due to their abrupt change in tone from the majority of the films unsettling quietness. Amazingly Bénazéraf even found a way to sneak in a brief political discussion. It just wouldn’t be a Bénazéraf film without one.

One of the most frustrating aspects regarding Frustration, and for that matter the majority of Bénazéraf’s films is its current English friendly home video status. Several of Bénazéraf’s films have official DVD releases in France, Frustration included but in America currently the only film of Bénazéraf’s to have an uncut release is Sexus (1965). His debut film L'éternité pour nous (Eternity For Us, 1963) is available on DVD-R from Something Weird in its English version known as Sin on the Beach, the only issue being that its around 20 minutes shorter than its original French version. His follow up film Le concerto de la peur (The Concert of Fear, 1963) also received a release in its English version entitled Night of Lust which is an edited 58 minute cut. Irritating to say the least. Frustration did get an uncut VHS release back in the day on the Private Screenings label under its absurd alternate title The Chambermaids Dream (surly one of the most ridiculous re-titles a Euro film has ever gotten) and thankfully DVD-R’s are easy to track down and most seem to be sourced from that tape so until Frustration finally gets the proper North American release it deserves those curious about the film would be wise to seek out the DVD-R, as Frustration is easily Bénazéraf’s best film. As far as this type of cinema is concerned, Frustration is required viewing.

Monday, July 14, 2014

La muerte incierta (1977)

One of the things that the majority of the most well known films from José Ramón Larraz are known for is their high level of sex and violence, particularly Vampyres (1974) but what’s interesting about that is Larraz went on record several times (including during his often hilarious commentary track on the DVD for Vampyres which also featured producer Brian Smedley-Aston) claiming to not be a fan of having a lot of blood in his films. Larraz was also quoted in Pete Tombs and Cathal Tohill’s 1995 book Immoral Tales: European Sex & Horror Movies, 1956-1984 that his debut film Whirlpool (1970) perhaps wasn’t the best choice for a debut feature as it pigeonholed him in the eyes of many as strictly a sex film director. While its true that Larraz’s films had a tendency to be quite visceral at times, anyone who’s seen a handful of his films will attest that Larraz was much more interested in the psychological as the sex and violence in his films was balanced out nicely by the unique psychology Larraz brought to his films. This is especially evident in his early British thrillers like Whirlpool, Deviation (1971), Scream and Die (1973) and Symptoms (1974), although there is considerably less violence and overt sexuality present in that film. La muerte incierta, one of Larraz’s Spanish films, is a perfect example of Larraz’s creative psychological approach to horror.

Clive Dawson, a wealthy English plantation owner returns to his estate in India with his new bride Brenda (Mary Maude). Prior to leaving India and getting married Clive had ended his relationship with Shaheen (Rosalba Neri), a native girl who felt used and thrown away by Clive’s ending of the relationship, promising to place a curse on Clive and all who lived on his plantation. Shortly after arriving Clive is informed by his son Rupert that while he was away Shaheen commited suicide and most of the superstitious servants have left in fear of Shaheen’s curse. Clive remembers Shaheen’s curse threat very well and not long after settling in his own superstitions take hold as Shaheen’s presence begins to be felt all over the plantation.

In the hands of a lesser director a film like La muerte incierta (The Uncertain Death) could have easily been turned into a lazy and pedestrian ghost story but in the hands of a master like Larraz it becomes a brilliant supernatural psychological thriller. While the film does make use of certain ghost story tropes it really isn’t fair to label the film simply a “ghost story” as the places Larraz takes the film travel far outside that one subgenre. Larraz makes things ambiguous early on and the film becomes even more so as Larraz delves deeper into the Dawson family history which raises the question of whether or not the plantation is really haunted or what Clive is experiencing is the result of paranoia. This exploration of Clive’s past also gives Larraz license to create a fascinating mystery involving superstition, mental illness and murder all of which make the curse angle all the more intriguing not to mention create some incredibly tense moments. The subplot involving Clive’s past also serve some of the films more supernatural elements which are in turn aided immensely by the films Indian settings with the surrounding jungle becoming a character in itself, which Larraz puts to use masterfully during one of the films most memorable moments involving a tiger hunt which ends with a truly innovative visual metaphor. On top of all that Larraz even throws in a seriously uncomfortable semi-incestuous side plot involving Brenda and Rupert, a quintessential Larraz character, as most in the film are.

There seems to be a bit of confusion as to when the film was actually made. IMDb lists the film as having a 1973 release while the Immoral Tales book claims it was 1977. Considering the amount of research that went into that book plus the actual time the authors spent interviewing Larraz 1977 would seem like the more likely release year. That would also place it alongside The Coming of Sin (1978), another film dealing with familial curses and superstitions so it makes sense if the film was made around then. For the longest time La muerte incierta was a pretty hoarded film until it became more widely circulated among collectors. When the film was first unearthed the print had turned completely red until a fan color corrected it and English subtitles were added. Most of the DVD-R’s seem to be sourced from the color corrected print although some of the red does make an appearance on occasion. Watching it is another one of those cases of just knowing how amazing the film would look if given a proper restoration. Still though the film is available which has to count for something, and although Rosalba Neri technically isn’t in the film for long the fact that a film exists that was directed by Larraz and features Neri, two giants of European cult cinema, that alone should make La muerte incierta required viewing.