Paula-Paula (2010)

Jess Franco’s name may be synonymous with many things to both fans and detractors alike but of the most crucial and defining aspects regarding Franco’s career was his adamant belief in artistic freedom. Not just simply freedom from censorship although that was certainly critical, but the freedom to film any idea without compromise or pandering to any group. Franco knew the importance of having final cut probably better than any other director after having his films meddled with by producers and distributors over the years and having multiple versions of his films exist. Regardless of the fact that Franco’s later period digital films are some of if not the most unpopular films he ever made, the advent of digital video technology not only made the process of filmmaking easier but Franco was finally given the complete creative control he always strived for and despite the fact that there were still certain cases of a film getting two different versions released, the films from this digital period represent Franco at his most pure with no filters. Perhaps no film of Franco’s better represents this freedom better than 2010’s Paula-Paula. Shot almost entirely in Franco and Lina Romay’s own apartment, Paula-Paula is easily Franco’s most experimental, inaccessible and alienating film and its also a film that would eventually mark the end of an era as it sadly features the final screen appearance of Lina Romay.

Paula (Carmen Montes), an exotic nightclub performer is arrested after the murder of her lover and fellow nightclub performer who also happens to be named Paula (Paula Davis). After being questioned by detective Alma Pereira (Lina), Paula is left on her own and begins to recount in her head the events that led her to where she is now, although in her delirious mental state Paula’s memory quickly grows increasingly surreal and twisted with the line between truth and fantasy becoming more and more blurry.

There seems to be two schools of though when it comes to Paula-Paula, that the film is either a hallucinatory glimpse into a disturbed psyche or Franco simply messing around with a digital camera for about 67 minutes. In all actuality, its a bit of both. Paula-Paula represents Franco at his most abstract, setting aside narrative almost immediately in favor of letting the visual take over. Franco claimed the film was inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde which actually makes sense in context yet this is a film where narrative only begins to matter after the film has ended. Its really a fascinating way of telling a story, or rather not telling a story, at least during the course of the actual film. Again, Franco shot the majority of the film in his own apartment and in some ways the film could be considered a full length version of a psychedelic nightclub performance seen in so many of Franco’s films set to a brilliant jazz soundtrack. The film was scored using recordings by Friedrich Gulda who of course composed the music for Franco’s Succubus (1967). Franco was given a CD of recordings by Gulda’s estate and conceived  the film around the music. “Free jazz filmmaking” so to speak, a label which becomes even more accurate when considering the films excessive visuals with Franco constantly digitally altering and distorting the imagery which recalls the digital experimentation seen in films like Vampire Blues (1999) and Vampire Junction (2001).

Franco made clear his mentality behind the film during the three interview segments featured on Intervision’s DVD. The first segment is a simple introduction for the film but the second and third are where it really gets interesting. The second interview in particular as it features Franco giving his opinions at the time on contemporary filmmaking and its really inspiring to hear Franco praise the younger generation of enthusiastic filmmakers who are doing it for the love of cinema just as he did. The third segment is Franco discussing Paula-Paula and again, its inspiring just to listen to his excitement over the film. Franco praises the cast especially Carmen Montes and rightfully so as Montes was one of Franco’s greatest discoveries during his later period and proved herself more than worthy to follow in the footsteps of the likes of Lina and Soledad Miranda. Franco even goes so far as to claim that Paula-Paula is his strangest film! In a sense its hard to argue with the man. Paula-Paula isn’t the type of film that’s going to bring a Franco detractor over to the other side and it has the potential to drive away even those who defended Franco’s One Shot films. It really doesn't matter though as the spirit  in which it was made and the fact that it was Lina’s last film ultimately make Paula-Paula one of Franco’s most important films.

Vampire Junction (2001)

The weird west subgenre is one of the most fascinating in fantastic fiction. While the term “weird west” is a blanket term that can be used to describe works that blend westerns with various other fantastic genres, it’s the horror genre that makes the perfect tag-team partner for westerns. The mythology of the American old west with its ghost towns, mysterious nomadic drifters, things of that nature along with the consuming nature of the frontier landscapes are tailor made for horror, and one facet of the horror genre that works particularly well within a western environment is vampires. In film the most famous example would of course be Kathryn Bigelow’s brilliant Near Dark (1987), a film which set a new standard for not just horror/western hybrids but for vampire films in general. John Carpenter also masterfully fused vampires and westerns together with Vampires (1998) and Carpenter has admitted that Vampires was his excuse to finally do a western. No stranger to westerns having directed one of his own, Jaguar (1963), Jess Franco made his entrance into the weird vampire west during his divisive days with One Shot Productions. The resulting film was 2001’s Vampire Junction, a film that is so utterly bewildering not only is it unlike any other vampire western to come before or after it but it also achieves something astonishing by being of the oddest films in Franco’s entire oeuvre.  

Upon arriving in a small southwestern town affectionately refereed to as “Shit City” attempting to interview a famous doctor, journalist Alice Brown (Lina Romay) is immediately taken aback by the fact that the town seems to be almost entirely abandoned. After finally meeting the doctor, she becomes even more perplexed by his odd behavior, as well as the odd behavior of the few locals she encounters. Not long after settling in, Alice begins to have strange dreams, the only constant being the appearance of two mysterious vampire women. Alice’s dreams soon cross over into realty as she discovers that the town has been overtaken by vampires who intend to add Alice to their ranks.

Vampire Junction is a perfect example of the idea of Franco’s films existing within their own universe. The concepts of time and space are completely alien to a film like Vampire Junction. In fact the entire film seems to be taking place outside of time in an alternate dimension in that “Shit City” seems to be stuck in the old west, yet modern technology such as cell phones and lap tops are featured prominently throughout the film along with characters dressed in old west attire driving modern cars. Its an interesting clash of visual styles and neither one cancels out the other, in fact it only adds to the feeling of “Shit City” being some kind of netherworld of sorts trapped in between time periods. The pink punk rock wig, a mainstay of Franco’s One Shot days, worn by one of the two vampire women is also quite the sight when seen in an old west styled town. While nowhere near as visually excessive as Vampire Blues (1999), Vampire Junction does at times see Franco continue to experiment with filters and image distortions and the digital look of the film has a certain charm to it and actually works in the films favor by piling on to the surreality especially whenever the vampire women are on screen. It also has to be pointed out that this film does yet again feature Spanish actors speaking heavily accented English although its never completely unintelligible, Lina does especially well and turns in a good performance as well.

For some reason Vampire Junction was first released in the States by Sub Rosa in an edited 84 minute version on VHS. It wasn’t until 2004 when they finally released the 97 minute uncut version on DVD which featured a memorable and entertaining segment featuring Linnea Quigley giving a sneak peak at DVD’s for Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula (1998) and Blind Target (2000). Actually that DVD can still be found for decent prices which is amazing in itself considering how much some of the original DVD’s of Franco’s other One Shot films tend to go for ever since going out of print. Naturally Sub Rosa also released the film as part of the “Vampire Lovers” double feature along with Vampire Blues and again in the “Deviant Lust” multi-film set along with Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula, Red Silk (1999) and Blind Target. To say Vampire Junction is one of Franco’s most unpopular films would be a massive understatement. While Franco’s One Shot films tend to get thrown under the bus most of the time, reactions to this one have been particularly harsh with most being unable to look past the miniscule budget and limitations associated with such things, some even naming it Franco‘s worst film. Of course there are exceptions and the select few that can appreciate this period of Franco’s might want to take a chance on braving this junction’s waters.

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.