Countess Perverse (1973)

If you were a fan of Jess Franco during the early 70’s you were lucky. While Franco was always a prolific filmmaker, often helming several films a year, the 70’s found him taking on a work load that even by his standards seemed a bit extreme, hell in 1973 alone he managed to complete 12 feature films. TWELVE, and there were others that for one reason or another were never finished. No matter what your opinion on Franco is, you can’t help but admire the man’s work ethic, it never ceases to amaze me, and personally speaking it’s one of the main reasons I hold him in such high regard as a filmmaker. I mean think about some the long lapses in time certain directors experience in between films, sometimes 4-6 years (not to mention the waiting impatient fans like myself endure). Not Franco though, finish one, move onto the next. Now, obviously when you work at that kind of a pace the results tend to be hit or miss, and even devout Francophiles will admit the man has had his fair share of misses, but a good number of the films that Franco directed during that time period turned out to be real good. Great in fact, as several of them are now considered to be some of his most essential, must see works. Films such as (but obviously not limited too) The Sinister Eyes of Dr. Orloff, The Other Side of the Mirror, Female Vampire, Sinner: The Secret Diary of a Nymphomaniac, Plaisir à trois, and Countess Perverse. Countess Perverse was one of a few films Franco worked on that featured principle cast members Alice Arno, Howard Vernon, Robert Woods and of course Lina Romay. Out of the all the films he worked on with that motley crew, for my money, it’s Countess Perverse that stands out as the best.

Countess Perverse (original French title La comtesse perverse) is essentially Franco’s own unique take on the classic Most Dangerous Game hunting humans theme. Countess Ivanna and Count Rador Zaroff (Arno and Vernon) are two extremely wealthy debauched libertine aristocrats who live on their own private island of sorts, which they’ve turned into their own personal hunting ground. After wining, dining and “entertaining” (read that as being seduced by Ivanna, sometimes Rador joins in, other times he watches astutely from the sidelines) a guest, their true motives are revealed to their unsuspecting victim, and the next morning the victim is given the chance to escape the island while Ivanna hunts them down like a wild animal with her bow. If the attempted escape is unsuccessful, the head of victim becomes another trophy on Ivanna’s wall and the rest is cooked and becomes Ivanna and Rador’s dinner, and is served to the next unknowing player in their game as well, and they’ve just found the perfect victim in the young Sylvia (Romay).

Filled to the brim with sex, sleaze, beautiful uninhibited women, cannibalism, rampant lesbianism and black humor, Countess Perverse is defiantly Franco at his Francoiest. There’s no pretense when it comes to a film like this, it knows what it is and proudly flaunts it, making no apologies for it. More than anything though, it’s just damn entertaining. Countess Perverse is really a blast to watch, and if I have to make one complaint it would just be that I wish it were longer because at a short running time of only 78 minutes it’s over before you know it and if your anything like me you’ll want more. For starters the tight knit cast Franco assembled for this and some of the other previously mentioned films couldn’t have been more perfect. Arno and Vernon make for the perfect disturbed cannibalistic couple, and both are the personification of presence. Vernon has a way about him, that was tailor made for horror films and the deranged faces he makes in this film are almost worth the price of admission alone. He’s a magnetic figure in that black suit and glasses, no doubt. I don’t even need to mention just how dead sexy Arno is, simply a stunning, alluring woman and it’s impossible to take your eyes off her. Dangerous and seductive, she made the titular Countess a more interesting character. Did I mention she hunts her prey totally nude? Having her and Lina on the screen together almost seems like Franco challenging the viewer to see which one you can drool over more. Along with all the human hunting and flesh eating, Franco even finds room for some drama near the end when one of the procurers of the Zaroff’s victims, played by Robert Woods decides he has a heart and tries to put a stop to the Countess’ game. Admittedly this does turn into melodrama, but Franco quickly shifts the mood and ends the film on a darkly comic note. The morbid humor is one of the films definite highlights, the good majority of Vernon’s lines are real gems, one of the most popular being “She's dim, but she's certainly juicy.” referring to Sylvia after having passed out from the shock of discovering the Zaroff’s love of human flesh. One of my personal favorite scenes in the film is the dinner scene where the Zaroff’s share their favorite food with Sylvia. The dialogue between the three is pure gold, and the wide eyed look of bewilderment on Lina’s face the entire time is priceless

Ivanna: Do You like our favorite meat, Sylvia?
Rador: Don’t ask the sweet girl to lie. This meat is rather tough. Not up to our usual standard. But next time… Oh, sorry - you won’t be here.
Sylvia: Why? Am I upsetting you?
Rador: On the contrary.
Ivanna: Just that you will have left by the time we start cooking.
Rador: Oh yes, that’s a fact. Already left indeed. 

I’m going to sound like a broken record here because just as I did when I reviewed Lorna the Exorcist (1974) and Justine (1969) I have to point out Franco’s knack for getting the most out of a location, using every possible resource at his disposal to his advantage. You’d never would have guessed how low the budget was for a lot of Franco’s films just going by the scenery alone, and Countess Perverse is no exception. It goes without saying that the island setting is gorgeous but it’s the way Franco uses his surroundings to give off this incredible atmosphere that fans know all about but first time Franco viewers might have never expected to feel in such a film. Early on there in the film there is a flashback segment where a woman recounts her voyage to the island while Franco focuses the camera on the massive rocks surrounding the water and island. The woman describes the fear the rocks instilled in her by claiming that the rocks warned of death, and therein lies Franco’s genius. There is indeed something oddly menacing about those monstrous, natural formations, and the thought of being surrounded by them in the middle of the water does give off some odd sensations. The incredible eerie organ theme enhances the scene tenfold, and it’s a theme that’s heard numerous times throughout the film to great effect. You can’t talk about this film without bringing up the Zaroff’s house, as it‘s an unforgettable sight. (Francophiles will instantly recognize the house he previously used it in She Killed In Ecstasy (1971)) The best way I can describe the look of the house is an Escher paining come to life, and the bizarre architecture gives off a real unsettling aura, as Lina’s character of Sylvia exclaims “This house scares me.” as the aforementioned organ theme plays. Just as visually stunning are the interior shots taking place within a set  of huge red stair casings (which were filmed in the building right next to the main house), which, just like the exterior of the house have a very surreal, nightmarish quality. The overall oddness of both not only bring forth a disorienting sense unease, but also allow Franco to conjure up that hallucinogenic dream like state he creates all to well.

Once again, Mondo Macabro proves to be at the top of their game when it comes to the world of DVD. Their treatment of Countess Perverse is every bit as impressive as their previous Franco releases of The Diabolical Dr. Z plus the previously mentioned Sinner and Lorna. The transfer is the best this film has ever looked, and probably will ever look, now it’s a full screen picture as originally intended which might irk a few people but honestly will that really hinder your viewing experience? It shouldn’t, as it looks fantastic. Another brilliant restoration from Mondo. Once again included is an interview with author and Franco expert Stephen Thrower which is great as he throws out quite a bit of information about this particular period in Franco’s career as well as some tidbits about the famous house used in the film (named Xanadu) it’s architect, and late Lina Romay. The most fascinating part of this segment to me though, is where he makes the connection with some of Franco’s work with that of the Marquis de Sade. While Countess Perverse isn’t one of Franco’s Sade adaptations, the thematic influence of the Marquis is ever apparent. Thrower will have an in depth book about Franco and his films published sometime later this year. That will be a must buy for sure. Also included is an interview with actor Robert Woods who reminisces fondly about his time in Europe and his work with Franco, nothing but nice things to say about the man. Good stuff. As an added bonus Mondo threw in a nice write up about the films colorful post production history which is fascinating to say the least, plus some cast bio’s. I’m not sure how many people actually read those but they’re nice additions, the one on Arno especially. This was one my most anticipated DVD’s of the year and without question it’s worth every penny. A fitting treatment for one of Franco’s most fun and best looking films. An absolute must have.

Justine (1969)

AKA Deadly Sanctuary 

When it comes to film adaptations of works by the Marquis de Sade, I think it’s safe to say the most obvious one that comes to the mind of most people is probably Pier Paolo Pasolini’s infamous final film Salò, based on Sade’s 120 Days of Sodom. I say the most obvious as that film carries a reputation almost as notorious as Sade himself. Unquestionably one of, if not the most persecuted writer to ever pick up a pen, Sade was a true rebel in every sense of the word, spending a good majority of his adult life in prison because of his writings. Sade did more than just write about lurid subject matter, he philosophized it. Along with all the perversities contained in his work, there was always underlying commentaries and harsh criticisms on government, religion (especially religion), society and the aristocracy, which Sade himself was actually born into, yet he wasn’t afraid to call it out on it’s own bullshit, he saw through all the fakeness and wanted no part of it. In fact it’s been said that one of the first times he got in trouble with the law was because he refused to attend the king’s birthday party. The man, to put it bluntly, had balls, and as is all to often the sad case in history, was punished for it. Anyway, back to my original point, while Pasolini’s Salò might be the most well known Sade adaptation, many a director (European especially) drew inspiration from the Marquis, one such being Jess Franco, who brought one of Sade’s most essential and infamous works, the classic Justine to the screen in 1969, and the material couldn’t have been more suitable.

Upon receiving the news of their father’s death, sisters Justine (Romina Power) and Juliette (Maria Rohm) are forced out of the nunnery where they were living out onto the streets of 17th century France. The two are complete opposites in not only appearance but in mentality. Justine, a naive and venerable virgin, leads a life of virtue and goodness, while her sister Juliette is prone to vice. Juliette clams to know of a place where they can stay, but when Justine discovers that this sanctuary is in fact, a whorehouse, she decides she wants no part of it, and sets out on her own. While working as a maid, she is falsely accused of theft and imprisoned. She manages to escape with another inmate, Madame Dubois, an infamous murderous (Mercedes McCambridge), yet only to find more misfortune, cruelty and numerous attempts at corrupting her innocence at every turn, as she is branded a murderer and taken prisoner by a group of sadistic libertine monks led by the deranged Brother Antonin (Jack Palance), amongst other things. Despite all the hardships she is forced to suffer, she never loses her faith and virtue, while her Juliette on the other hand has made a comfortable and very profitable living indulging in crime and vice.

Marquis de Sade

While this film might not be a literal translation of the book to screen for the obvious reasons, thematically speaking, it‘s fairly faithful. There are, of course differences from the book, certain events are left out and the differences between the ending of the book and film are miles apart, but for the most part the ideas contained in the book are present throughout the film. There might not seem like a lot of substance beneath this poor girl being abused and mistreated for 2 hours but there actually is a point to all of it. The subtitle of the book was The Misfortunes of Virtue, or on certain publications Good Conduct Well Chastised, and what Sade was basically trying to get across was that it’s those who chose the path of vice that lead rewarding lives while the lives of the virtuous are wrought with pain and grief, while also taking shots at some of his favorite targets along the way. Although he didn’t write the screenplay, it’s apparent that Franco got Sade, you can tell that from watching his other Sade based films as well. There’s a telling scene involving somewhat of a role reversal, where Brother Antonin suggests to Justine that she is in essence, a masochist, that her idea of virtue is enduring all this pain, that she is the sinner and that he, the libertine is the saint. There are points in the film where Justine actually does find sanctuary with good people, only for it to be short lived, as she is either forced to run away, or in one instance implicated in the poisoning of her good hearted house mistress. Pure Sade. It’s also an interesting adaptation on account of including Sade himself as a character, played by Klaus Kinski, as sort of a narrator, as there are cut away scenes throughout the film showing Sade in a jail cell, either dreaming or hallucinating the material and writing it all down. Believe it or not, Justine is actually one of Sade’s more tame works in terms of content, and this film isn’t as extreme or explicit as one might think considering the source material, so you if your expecting pure sexploitation you’ll be a bit let down in that department, although remember the author and director, so naturally there is sadism and to be found and some lesbianism thrown in for good measure.

One subject concerning this film that has a tendency to spark a debate is the performance of Romina Power. Franco has made is perfectly clear that he wanted Rosemary Dexter to play the titular lead role (Dexter does have a small role as the mentor of Juliette) but the studio higher up’s insisted on Power. It’s true that Power wasn’t a seasoned actress, and does stumble a bit during the film, but I wouldn’t go so far as to compare her to a window dummy or a piece of furniture as Franco has in interviews. To me, Power was, for the most part, believable in the role as she conveyed all of Justine‘s virtuous qualities, as well as her naivety and vulnerability, someone who was unaware of all the evils of the world and finding out first hand. The scene where she escapes the prison with Dubois sums it up perfectly for me, when she asks Dubois why she chose to escape with her, Dubois response is “Because you look so innocent”. Indeed she does, and she’s also downright adorable. Sympathetic from the first instant she’s on screen, 20 minutes into the film and onward you’ll want to give the poor thing a hug. The girl goes though hell. The one performance most people remember from the film comes from Jack Palace who delivers one of the looniest, most drunken and out there performances in cinematic history as Brother Antonin, it’s almost beyond description. It’s called “outrageous” on the back of the DVD and that word couldn’t be more fitting. Equally eccentric but nowhere near as over the top is Mercedes Cambridge (the voice of Pazuzu in The Exorcist in case you didn’t know). Every time she’s on screen she looks like she’s about the break out into dance, and indeed that does happen in one of the films more random moments when her and her fellow inmates have an impromptu dance party before her escape. While the role of Juliette isn’t huge, Maria Rohm is always dependable, with out without clothing. Then there’s Kinsi as the imprisoned Sade who has no lines, he basically just makes intense faces reacting to his “visions”, although when has Kinski NOT been intense? Also keep an eye out for Euro goddess Rosalba Neri as one of the monks captives and Franco himself making an appearance as a sort of hype man for a street fair attraction.

Justine benefited from having the biggest budget Franco ever had for one of his films (he claims on set it was referred to as a “fake big film”) and indeed it is a pretty epic period piece and it goes without saying it’s an amazing looking film. As is always the case, Franco’s eye for scenery is more than apparent, as every single location and set piece, from the French countryside to some of the more lavish places Justine seems to find herself in look fantastic and is used to perfection, plus the 17th century vibe does come off as authentic with the costumes and things of that nature. Franco plays is straight for the most part, but there are moments where his trademark style comes into play, most notably during the scenes involving Sade in his cell. Remember we’re giving the impression that Sade is having these visions of the material so naturally they’re dreamlike in nature. The first few moments of the film are full of Franco’s classic zoom in on an object and zoom out to something else technique, be it a close up of Sade’s vision of Justine or a row of girls in stock like device (not sure what the technical name of the device is). The segment of Justine being tortured in the monk’s dungeon gives off that same trippy nightmarish, almost surreal effect. Speaking of that dungeon, it’s one of the best looking sets in the film, and Franco’s choice of lighting with an emphasis on red and green worked wonders. The scenes leading up to Justine’s final moments at the monks château also benefit from the same lighting techniques. The films epic feeling is aided immensely by Bruno Nicolai’s lush, outstanding score, which plays a huge part in helping the film achieve the 17 century ascetic. Every scene is enhanced by it, and to think Nicolai almost didn’t get the gig. Franco had to convince the studio that he was the right man for the job, and had Nicolai not done the score, the overall feeling of the film would have been drastically different.

The best version of the book to get. Along
with Justine, you also get other essential Sade
such as Philosophy in the Bedroom, Eugenie de
Franval, and Dialogue Between a Priest and a
Dying Man 

Along with Justine, Franco would again turn to the Marquis for material in 1969 with Eugenie… the Story of Her Journey Into Perversion, one of his masterpieces, an adaptation of Sade’s Philosophy in the Bedroom, which also features Maria Rohm in a more prominent role, if you want to see how good she is at playing a Sadian villain check her out in that. Franco would also go on to helm a retelling of Sade’s novella Eugénie de Franval with Eugenie de Sade, featuring the stunning Soledad Miranda, and he would eventually direct a very similar film called Wicked Memoirs of Eugenie. You can find clear Sade influences in films such as Plaisir a 3 (which is essentially yet another take on Philosophy in the Bedroom) and Countess Perverse (review coming soon) as well. Justine might be one of Franco’s more accessible films, but at the same time it’s not without it’s share of oddness (and sometimes comical moments, tell me Romina Power getting spanked by a stuttering Akim Tamiroff isn’t chuckle inducing. Then there’s that aforementioned random prison dance off). Franco in general is an acquired taste, but while I don’t think you need to be part of some niche group to enjoy Justine, I would say you might have to been a certain mood for a type of film like this, regardless of your thoughts on Sade. I’d also like to add that Sade got one of the best book reviews ever for Justine by none other that Napoleon Bonaparte, who by the way, was responsible for Sade spending his last years incarcerated, and I quote, "Justine is the most abominable book ever engendered by the most depraved imagination". To this day that quote is still printed on copies of Justine.

Bug (2006)

Not to long ago I went out of my comfort zone a bit in terms of genre and reviewed the film Flesh and Bone (1993), wherein I opined on how underrated it is and more people should watch it/know of it. We all have those movies, those unsung ones that somehow fell through the cracks one way or another upon it’s initial release and as fans we feel the need to blabber on endlessly about them to make sure our point is made about how great they are. I know William Friedkin’s 2006 headfuck Bug isn’t nearly as anonymous as the aforementioned Flesh and Bone, but it’s still one of those films that, to me, deserves more recognition than it seems to get (come to think of it, Friedkin‘s 1990 genre offering The Guardian is another one of those films). While it did get a fair amount of respect from critics, and it’s lead actors were rightfully praised , it was also a very polarizing film, and still is. It’s one of those cases where it’s fans absolutely love it and do what I described above to anyone that will listen, but it’s also one of those cases where it’s detractors loathe everything about it, and endlessly trash it. I was drawn to Bug pretty much immediately after I saw a TV spot for it, and I wasn’t let down in the slightest. It was a breath of fresh air to me when I first saw it. It was totally fucked up which I obviously loved, but more than anything I can honestly say I hadn’t ever seen anything remotely like it before.

Agnes (Ashley Judd) is a lonely waitress who leads a pretty empty life. Living in a ratty motel room, she loves her booze and coke and is in constant fear of being harassed by her ex husband Jerry (Harry Connick Jr.) who was recently released from prison. She’s also been receiving strange phone calls which she believes to be Jerry messing with her, and lost her son who disappeared some years ago. When her lone friend R.C. introduced her to Peter (Michael Shannon), and eccentric Army veteran turned drifter, the two find a common bond in their loneliness and quickly develop a relationship. Aside from the occasional unwanted visit from Jerry, things are going pretty good for the two, until Peter finds a bug (and aphid) in Agnes’ bed. Peter begrudgingly reveals to Agnes that he has in fact gone AWOL from the army, claiming to have been experimented on, and convinces Agnes that the motel room is infested. Soon Agnes is seeing bugs too, and begins to share Peter’s thoughts and fears of conspiracy theories, being implanted with bug egg sacks and being followed and tracked by satellite signals. Virtually shutting themselves off from the outside world, the two descend deeper and deeper into paranoia and full blown insanity.

I could have easily just said “Two people loose their shit in a motel room” and left it at that, but I felt the need to be a BIT more specific. Thank Pazuzu for William Friedkin. While he's never been the kind of filmmaker to cater to the wants of the major studio's, you really have applaud him for taking on a project so ballsy and against the mainstream like Bug, as I don’t think this wasn’t made with the intention of being a “hit” but if you’re like me and this does appeal to you, holy shit you’re in for a treat. I personally consider Bug to be one of the best films to come out this past decade. It’s a film that wears many hats, and they all fit. It’s pretty much unclassifiable, as it refuses to sit comfortably in one genre or another. There are horror elements without question, but it’s so much more than just a horror film. It deals with some sci-fi concepts, absolutely, but it’s defiantly not straightforward science fiction. Friedkin has called Bug a love story at heart, and that’s actually pretty accurate, as deranged as it is. Bug may be very visceral in parts, as there are scenes that are sure to make more than a few folks skin crawl, but it really shines in the psychology department, and questions will be lingering in your mind all throughout the film and long after it’s ended. Is Peter delusional? Did the bugs exist? Was he really experimented on? What about his tooth? What did Agnes really see under that microscope? Now, this is probably where you’ll tell me I’m the crazy one, of course they’re both out of their minds, but I disagree. Not everything in Bug is as clear cut as it seams, as Friedkin has a tendency to add things which more than likely will throw whatever interpretation you've made totally out of whack, which I'm sure was his intention, plus the final shot during the closing credits makes the events of the film even more ambiguous. Just another way to fuck with our heads one final time.


Bug was based on a stage play, and the majority of the action never leaves Agnes’ motel room. This obviously isn’t Friedkin’s first rodeo, and he makes master use of the limited settings, playing you much like Hitchcock did in one of his limited setting films (Rope in particular), and the film is so engrossing you won’t even notice that for the last 101 minutes you hardly left this one small area, and there are certain parts of the film where it feels as if your right there observing the entire thing. The motel room and it’s surroundings couldn’t have been anymore perfect. Out in the middle of nowhere in the Oklahoma desert, isolated from everything. The perfect spot to go crazy. The room itself is quite seedy looking, ideal for a character such as Agnes (more on that later), and there’s the um, “renovations” Peter makes to it later on in the film, you could almost say it becomes a character itself, plus I’m a total sucker for things like that, run down, lonely looking motels, rough desert landscapes, shit like that. Don’t know why, just always have been, so I was quickly attracted to the aesthetic the film put off. Anyway, if the films premise wasn’t already intense enough, the claustrophobic settings allow Friedkin to really jack up the paranoia, and as the film progresses and Agnes and Peter’s mental states deteriorate, the uneasy feeling is heightened tenfold. Then of course, there’s the films final set piece. Brilliantly minimal, if you ever thought tin foil and bug zappers wouldn’t make for good set design, think again. The use of the blue lights during those moments are more than effective and really show off how great an eye Friedkin has. There are other cool things Friedkin tosses in there to add even more mood, overhead helicopter shots of the motel to further the “government conspiracy” theme of the film, and the interjected shots of footage of actual bugs was cool looking as well.
You’ve heard of actors giving “brave” and “dedicated” performance, well Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon take those terms to an entirely new level, putting on the definition of a clinic. I’d be hard pressed to think of the last time I saw two performers literally, psychically hurl themselves into a role like these two did in this film. Judd brings life to Agnes and her fragility. She’s a very tragic figure, having gone through all the shit she has, and Judd brings forth that vulnerability. You get the feeling that she believes everything Peter says because she’s already very psychologically damaged, so starved for companionship she’s follow him anywhere, no matter how crazy the situation. Michael Shannon, who also starred in the play, has a very sketchy awkwardness about him. The first instant we meet Peter we defiantly know there’s something a bit off about him. Everything from his mannerisms to his speech, the guys a bit distant to say the least. Distant, yet Shannon has a very magnetic presence and you want to know more about him, despite the unpleasantness that might come along with it. Watching the two of them, from the back and fourths about bugs and conspiracies to the twitching they both start doing (Shannon in particular is very physical, I’ve heard say this film can been seen as a metaphor for meth addiction. Take it as you will) it can become almost uncomfortable at times, they’re that fucking good. The films unforgettable final moments where the two go absolutely batshit is really a sight to behold the way the two play off each other with a sort of manic energy, and the way Judd delivers her lines with such intensity (“I AM THE SUPER MOTHER BUG!”) should have won them both every award imaginable. Harry Connick Jr. deserves a special mention for playing one of the biggest assholes in cinematic history, yet he’s always fun when he’s on screen. His interactions with Shannon are always entertaining.

Admittedly, Bug does jump the gun just a tad when it comes to the aforementioned finale. An extra 10 or so minutes would have been appreciated, just to make Agnes and Peter’s transition to full blown madness a bit more gradual. As it stands, it does comes off as a wee bit rushed. I haven’t seen the play so I have no idea if it plays out the same way as the film or if the timing of events were altered for the screen. That not withstanding, the sheer impact of the finale more than makes up for that. Bug most certainly isn’t for everybody. When it premiered at Cannes there were reports of people who for one reason or another couldn’t take it and got up and walked out. Reminds me of another Friedkin flick where there were numerous reports of people doing the same thing when it played in theatres. I always forget the name of that one. Something to do with working out I think. Even if you don’t like Bug, you have to at least admire it’s originality (and if you’ve ever read any of the shit I scribble on here you know how I feel about original, creative films), outright intensity, and the way Judd and Shannon go at it with reckless abandon. Even people who hated the film had to admit how amazing the two were. If there were more directors like Friedkin and actors like Judd and Shannon who took chances with films like this, I’d probably make it to the theatre more often than I do (which isn’t often). I can’t recommend Bug highly enough.

The Lodger (1927)

Not too long ago I reviewed Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope wherein I stated that the Master of Suspense is indeed my favorite filmmaker. There’s really no reason to repeat my reasoning’s for that again here but just keep that bit of information in your back pocket for a moment. Allow me, if you will to opine on silent cinema, as this is the first silent film I’ve tackled. There’s always been something about the look of silent films that got to me. That primitive film style was attractive to me at a young age and it still is. Also,  maybe it was the fact that certain resources were very limited back then so filmmakers had to try extra hard to make their films as convincing as possible, which is why so many silent flicks still hold up marvelously well to this day. Having the kind of taste I have, the first silent films I saw were of course, the horror films. Nosferatu, Phantom of the Opera, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, you know, the essentials. Going back to still holding up, the make up in those films is still some of the most effective looking. Tell me with a straight face that Count Orlok or the many faces of Lon Chaney Sr. aren’t still some of the most striking on screen images. But back to Hitchcock. When I was first getting into his films I obviously started with the most well known, and had very limited, if any knowledge of his early British period. Imagine my giddiness when I discovered that one of his early works, The Lodger, was a silent film loosely inspired by the case of Jack the Ripper. Take a wild guess as to whether or not it lived up to my expectations.

A serial killer known as “The Avenger” is stalking the streets of London, targeting young, pretty blonde women, always leaving his simple calling card, his nickname written in the center of a triangle at the scene of every crime. In the midst of all the killings, a mysterious man (Ivor Novello) arrives at the lodging house of one Mrs. Bunting, looking for a room to rent. Although she is perplexed by her new tenants odd behavior, Mrs. Bunting believes him to be harmless, just a bit eccentric and anti-social. However she quickly becomes increasingly suspicious of his constant goings in and out late at night and she eventually comes to suspect her new lodger is the Avenger. Making matters worse, her daughter Daisy has become more and more friendly with the lodger and spending more time with him, and she is exactly The Avenger’s type. This enrages her jealous boyfriend Joe, who happens to be a police officer, and has just been placed on the Avenger case, and is determined to bring down the lodger, but is he really the Avenger?  

The Lodger (full title The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog) was Hitchcock’s third film, but he would later state that he considered it to be his first true film, and it’s understandable why he would feel that way. It’s with this film that Hitchcock introduced audiences to themes and motifs that would eventually become his calling cards and he would go on to perfect in subsequent films. It might start off a bit slow, but of course once the titular lodger arrives the film really gets going. This lodger is indeed a strange fellow, but is he a murderer? The film would lead you to share his landlady’s suspicions as his actions when he first arrives do come across as quite weird, and as the film progresses there really doesn’t seem to be any doubt that he is indeed the Avenger, yet you also know it’s just as possible that he’s innocent, and everyone else is just paranoid. You want to know the truth. You have to know, especially after the nerve wracking scene when the police interrogate him while going through his belongings, which leads to a classic Hitchcock chase scene. Having Daisy spark up a relationship with the lodger was smart as it’s a great catalyst for building up intensity in the story. Daisy is a very whimsical, likable character and we really don’t want to see any harm done to her, which is why there is always a sense of danger and unease whenever she and the lodger share screen time, that not knowing if he is indeed the murderer. Hitchcock uses this uncertainty to perfection, masterfully toying with the audience, sometimes even in a humorous manner whenever the two are the only ones on screen. Is the picking up of a fire poker used for just the fire, or to bash someone over the head with? Does Daisy scream because she’s in fear for or life, or did she just see a mouse? Hitch loves screwing with us with things like that throughout the film.

Even at this early stage in his career Hitchcock was at the point where he could wipe the floor with directors who were on their 5th or 6th film. Hitch was very inspired by directors part of the German expressionist movement, notably Murnau and Lang, and those influences are on display in The Lodger, most famously during a scene where instead of just filming the lodger pacing back and forth in his room, Hitchcock focuses on a chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the ceiling then becomes transparent, giving the effect of the lodger walking on air. The now iconic scene where we’re first introduced to the lodger is brilliantly staged, the shot of the lodger standing in the doorway surrounded by the fog than the close up of Novello’s scarf covered face makes and immediate and lasting impression. A classic Hitchcock moment. There are very little title cards used in this movie, Hitchcock preferring to let the majority of the story rely on the mood created by the setting, lighting and the body language of the actors (this is a silent film, so yeah, there’s instances of overacting). Lead Ivor Novello has an undeniable presence about him. He has the look of a total movie star, true, but there is an air of mystery about him that radiates whenever Hitch focuses the camera on him. Right from the instant we first meet his character it’s obvious there’s something off about him, and his mannerisms throughout the film, often very creepy, only make him more compelling, especially during the aforementioned scenes with Daisy. By far one of Hitch’s best leading men. The Lodger is also notable for the introduction of another device Hitchcock would make prominent, future use of, staircases, and any Hitchcock fanatic will tell you all about the ominous connotations associated with them in his films. In fact, compare the constant shots of the staircase leading up the lodgers room to those of the staircase in Norman Bates’ house, and the shots that lead down to the infamous fruit cellar in Psycho and you’ll see striking similarities.

The Lodger, like a good number of Hitchcock’s early British films is in the public domain and there are a few different DVD’s of it floating around out there, on it’s own and included in a lot of those multi-film sets of early Hitchcock films you may or may not have seen around. All with varying print qualities of course. I can’t say which one has the best transfer, but I’m going to assume it’s the one pictured above as part of the “Premier  Collection” MGM put out a few years back, but alas it’s yet another case of an out of print DVD going for idiotic prices. I just used the cover because I liked it better than some of the others I saw (I‘m pretty anal when it comes to stuff like that). My copy came from one of the sets and it looks just fine. The film is also available to watch in full on YouTube.  But anyway, no matter how you go about watching it, the important thing is that you do watch it. If you watch The Lodger after seeing a good majority of Hitchcock’s later films, it might come off as rather standard, thematically speaking, but this is where it all began, and it’s a testament to the mans incredible talent and the level of filmmaking he reached so early in his career, and a sign of the many great things that would come from the man. If you fancy yourself a Hitchcock fan and have yet to see The Lodger, you might want to get on that sooner than later. It stands not only as one of the mans best and earliest masterpieces, but one of the best (and best looking) films to come out of the silent era.

Lorna the Exorcist (1974)

If you had no prior knowledge of this film, going by it’s title alone and the year of release you’d probably think it was another Exorcist rip off/cash in. Hell, who could blame you with the numerous clones that came out of the woodwork after the success and notoriety of William Friedkin’s 1973 shocker. The same thing happened after Night of the Living Dead when the European market became flooded with zombie films. It’s kind of funny when you think about how the roles have been reversed in recent years when it comes to so called “cash in‘s“. Now if a film finds success and a following in Europe or Asia, instead of cranking out films with similar storylines like back in the day, all the Hollywood studios are quick to remake (read that as “bastardize”) and Americanize it. What was I talking about again? Oh yeah, Lorna the Exorcist. Although Jess Franco did make his own exorcism themed film (he even stared in it), appropriately titled Exorcism, the title of 1974’s Lorna the Exorcist (original French title Les possédées du diable)  is a classic example of a marketing scheme, as the titular Lorna is not an exorcist, nor are there any exorcisms present in the film, as the film has nothing to do with any such things. This Faustian sleaze epic is in a league entirely it’s own.

In celebration of his daughter Linda’s (the late, very great Lina Romay) 18th birthday, successful businessman Patrick takes his family to a seaside casino resort on the coast of France. 19 years prior, Patrick was a desperate man. On the verge of bankruptcy and suicide, a chance meeting at the same resort with the mysterious Lorna (Pamela Stanford), a powerful witch of sorts all that. Lorna promised him money, success, and a child, a daughter for him and his infertile wife Marianne, under the condition that when his daughter turns 18, he must hand her over to Lorna. Blinded by lust and desperation, Patrick agrees. Fast forward to the present, upon arriving to the resort with his family, Patrick encounters Lorna in the exact same spot where the two first met 19 years ago. She has come to collect what was promised to her, only Patrick is defiant to never give Linda up, forcing and enraged Lorna to take matters into her own hands.

Lorna the Exorcist is a film that is held in high regard by myself and other Francophiles and for good reason, as it’s one of the man’s very best. It’s defiantly my favorite on all his films. Unnerving in it’s oddness, unrelenting in it’s sleaziness, yet undeniably attractive because of it, Lorna is a very hypnotizing film, right from the first frame you’re sucked right in, and as the film goes on and gets progressively weirder, the more intriguing it becomes. And weird does it get. This is undoubtedly one of the most fucked up things Franco has unleashed upon audiences in his long and prolific career, but that’s a big part of the films appeal. You won’t see another film like this one anytime soon that’s for sure. Right from the first frame a vibe is felt, and that same strange aura is constantly present throughout the entire film, getting under your skin and in your head. It’s incredibly erotic and alluring, putting the viewer in a trance of sorts, making it impossible to look away, yet it’s also downright creepy in an eccentric way in parts, oftentimes both, for instance the shots of a institutionalized women under the influence of Lorna calling out her name writhing provocatively on her bed (keep an eye out for Franco himself making an appearance as her doctor), the undertones when it comes to Lorna’s motives in gaining control of Linda and of course the final moments with Linda. Again, it gets in your head and stays there, you’ll be replaying scenes in your head long after the film’s been over, it has that effect. You really can‘t discuss the film without at least mentioning one of THE scenes for which it‘s most notorious, although I don’t want to spoil anything so I’ll just say it involves crabs. It does give you a nice, unexpected jolt as it comes out of fucking nowhere and it’s a shining example of Franco’s twisted imagination.

Pamela Stanford couldn’t have been more perfect for the role of the seductive Lorna. “Seductive” is the key word when it comes to her performance, as she radiates sexuality with ease. You’d follow her anywhere too, just like Patrick. She has that effect.  She has on this eye make up that goes literally halfway up her forehead and yes, it doesn’t look normal but this is far from a normal film. If this were any other character in any other film it would be completely distracting, but here it makes perfect sense, only adding to her character’s mystique, and the spacey nature of the film as a whole. Along with being one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid my eyes on in this lifetime, I’ve always thought of Lina Romay as an underrated actress. Even in some of Franco’s more “rushed” productions, if Lina was in it, chances are she was the best thing about it. With or without clothes. Her performance in Lorna is one her best, as she is totally believable in the role of the happy go lucky, innocent Linda. She’s also incredibly likable in the role, making the scenes with her father towards the end of the film, and the films final moments where she’s thrashing manically on a bed more effective. Chilling in fact. All this in spite of the sometimes shoddy dubbing. Both women are completely uninhibited and more than once the two get up close and personal with each other. Their final “encounter” lets call it, is another one of the films more infamous moments. What stars off as an odd lesbian scene takes a radical left turn, and it’s one of those cinematic moments where you’ll just be staring at the screen totally dumbfounded at what you’re seeing asking yourself “What the fuck”.

Franco’s trademark zoom is fully on display here, and there are instances where the camera will zoom in extremely close on something making the image go out of focus, creating a very drugged out, hallucinogenic effect. This effect works wonders when Lorna is making herself known to Linda. Franco zooms in on the wall and the next image you see when the screen becomes clear is a close up of Stanford‘s eyes. The lesbian scenes, while explicit and gratuitous, are staged in such a manner that make them so much more. The one that opens the film is particularly dreamy, an aura aided immensely by the music (the main theme that plays throughout the film is heavenly) and Franco’s camera movements. It’s Franco’s technique, the way he maneuvers the camera, his choice of angles and things of the like that add atmosphere, even in a scene where nothing is really going on, Franco makes it interesting just by shooting it in a particular manner keeping your eyes glued to the screen. So contrary to popular belief, it’s not all lingering close up’s of female genitalia (although lets be honest here, there is an abundance of it in this film, pretty much the only thing you don‘t see on the females in this film are their internal organs. I‘m not complaining though, in no way am I complaining about this). Franco knows how to get the most out of the shooting locations. Take for instance a scene featuring Patrick running all around the streets desperately trying to find Lorna’s apartment. Even a scene like that has sort of a surreal quality to it due to the unique architecture of all the surrounding buildings. Despite the small budgets he often works with he has a mint eye for scenery and Lorna is no exception.

Years after Lorna was first released it was re-cut into a hardcore porn movie removing scenes from the original print, which had been badly damaged and or lost to time, and for many years different, incomplete copies of Lorna with extremely shitty prints had been circulating as bootlegs. Thankfully, the great folks over at Mondo Macabro DVD have given Lorna the royal treatment it deserves. Their restoration of the film was made up of three different 35mm prints and is the most complete version of the film to ever be released. Naturally there is obvious signs of wear and tear during parts but the job they did is astounding and for all intensive purposes the presentation is top shelf. To go along with all that the DVD includes two interview segments with Franco expert Stephen Thrower, author of the AMAZING book Nightmare USA, one discussing Franco and his work, the other discussing this film. Also included is an interview with Gerard Kikoine who edited Franco’s films during the period when he was working for French producer Robert de Nesle. It’s an interesting and very informative piece as he does into detail about how certain films were edited for censorship back in those days, and what versions of films went to certain theatres and when they could be shown in said theatres. It’s an absolute must have DVD, although I’m sure by now Franco fanatics have been all over it. Lorna is probably only going to appeal to a limited amount of film watchers and that’s understandable, but if you’re part of that demographic that enjoys this type of cinema, or a Franco fan who’s yet to see it (what the hell are you waiting for?!) Lorna is prime viewing. The back of the DVD summed it up perfectly by describing it as a “masterpiece of transgressive horror”. Essential Franco. R.I.P. Lina. Fuck cancer.

Ms. 45 (1981)

AKA Angel of Vengance

The rape/revenge subgenre has to be among the most well known of all the kinds of films that have the exploitation tag. At least the most well known to the general public when they hear the term “exploitation”. Certainly among the most notorious. But aside from that they also proved to be some of the most popular and more than a few became instant classics. Tales of ravaged women giving their attackers their just desserts in films such as I Spit On Your Grave and Thriller: A Cruel Picture, or in the case of films like Last House on the Left and Savage Streets which featured family members of the wronged ones getting the upper hand on the assailants of their loved ones filled up seats in grindhouses all over the globe. Enter director Abel Ferrara. Fresh off The Driller Killer he gave audiences his own take on the vengeful female in 1981 with Ms. 45. It’s been referred to as “the female Death Wish” and a cross between the later film and Thriller. While those comparisons are apt (the Thriller ones especially), Ms. 45 stands head and shoulders above it’s vigilante companions.

Thana (Zoë Lund, billed here as Zoë Tamerlis, as she was known back then) is a young mute woman who works as a seamstress in New York City’s Garment District. Along with being very shy and a bit withdrawn, her condition also makes her very venerable. While walking home from the grocery store one afternoon she is yanked into an alley by a masked man (played by Ferrara) and raped at gunpoint. Traumatized, she walks home but only to walk in on her apartment being burglarized. She is confronted by the robber, and again raped at gunpoint. During the act the man drops his gun, allowing Thana to bash him on the head and bludgeon him to death with an iron, drags the body to the bathtub and chops it into pieces, taking the assailants .45 caliber handgun as collateral. Initially used as protection against men she presumes as potential threats, she becomes more and more emboldened by the gun the more she uses it and she herself becomes the predator, taking to the streets, targeting not just men she believes will endanger her, but men in general. And she’s one hell of a shot.

I said Ms. 45 stands head and shoulders above all other “rape/revenge” flicks but I’ll take it a step further and call it the absolute best of the bunch. It has many qualities that qualify it to hold that title, but the biggest is it’s star, Zoë Lund. She carries this film without saying one word during the course of it’s 82 minute run time. She was just 17 years old when she landed the role, and she delivers an unforgettable, charismatic, show stealing performance. Ferrara struck gold when he found her, and the world of cult film is still thankful. The evolution of her character is fascinating to watch, as within five minutes of the film you just want to give the poor girl a hug, and by the hour mark you wont want her to even glance at you. The thing is, you’re kind of rooting for her after what has happened to her, and indeed her kills are pretty righteous at first, mostly street trash and sleazebags who just don’t know when to fuck off. She even takes out an entire street gang. But as the film goes on and her violence becomes more and more senseless, there are times when she’ll act out and you’ll be saying “Well that was kind of unnecessary”. For instance when she sets her sights on an Asian man who was just kissing his girlfriend, when he makes it into his building before she has time to pull the trigger, the look of disappointment on her face is frightening. Yet, despite all of that, I really wouldn’t call Thana a contemptible character. Lund is just that good in the role, plus, can you really blame her for her actions? Speaking of looks on faces, Lund lets her face do all the talking, and some of the expressions she makes will stop you dead in your tracks, my favorites being the sly, almost seductive look she gives right before she off’s a rich Arab businessman and his chauffer and the glare she throws at her touchy feely boss. Again, seductive, but ultimately deadly. Those eyes are the definition of expressive. She’s  simply a stunning woman and as the film goes on she begins using her good looks to lure in easy catches, going from dressing very conservatively early on in the film, to more make up, sexy skin tight leather pants and so on and so forth. Impossible to take your eyes off her even for a second.

The gritty and dirty New York imagery Ferrara painted in The Driller Killer (see what I did there? Or maybe not if you’ve yet to see The Driller Killer. Regardless, the pun stays) carries over to Ms. 45 but this time around Ferrara has totally honed his craft. The grimy realism Ferrara is known for is most defiantly present in Ms. 45, but it’s also very slick. This film is where he found that perfect balance between the two. Sure, any director can throw gratuitous violence in your face, but Ferrara does it with style. Take for example when Thana fills a photographer full of pepper in his home studio/apartment (from the fucking elevator mind you), the splashing of the blood on the white backdrop looks as it paint is being splashed on a canvas in carefully measured amounts. I’m not sure if Ferrara intended it to look like that but that’s the impression I got. Despite the fact that it’s obviously someone is throwing it from the right side of the screen, it still looks awesome. Then of course there’s the films now iconic finale, wherein Thana flat out executes the male patrons at a Halloween party dressed in a sexy nun costume. I think it’s safe to say the scene was inspired by Carrie’s infamous prom, it’s presented in glorious slow motion, it’s almost surreal thanks in part to the flashing party lights, all the Halloween decorations and costumes, especially some of the weirder ones. It’s really a masterfully shot sequence and really shows off Ferrara’s creativity when presenting material such as this. Along with Thana’s trigger happy antics, Ferrara makes way for some moments of (very) black comedy by way of Thana’s disposing of her home invader’s body parts all across New York City, such as tossing a bag in some poor saps trunk who’s on his way back to Georgia, or a homeless drunk looking for food in a trash can instead finds a hand Thana had placed there earlier. There’s some comical moments involving Thana’s nosey landlord as well, although I will say her character is borderline annoying. The film also boasts a sexy, jazzy score that fit’s the seedy New York imagery to a T. I adore the sax notes that play right before Thana is about to blast somebody in certain scenes, and good luck getting the tune the band plays during the party scene before shit hit’s the fan.

Along with being an actress, Zoë Lund was also a musical, a model and a writer, and would go on to write the screenplay for Ferrara’s 1992 film Bad Lieutenant (the directors finest hour if you ask me) also sharing two very powerful scenes with star Harvey Keitel in that film. She also had a long standing love affair with heroin, eventually contracting a lung infection sometime in 1996. She sadly passed away 3 years later in 1999 in Paris at the age of 37. A damn shame she went out the way she did as she was an incredibly creative and talented person. There’s a great video on YouTube entitled “Zoë XO”, which you can watch here featuring Zoë’s husband Robert Lund driving around New York City discussing his time with Zoë amongst other topics including facets of her personality, her love of rats and her mentality when it came to heroin use.  It’s really a fascinating watch about a fascinating women who checked out way too soon. Also, here's a brief clip of Zoe discussing Ms. 45 on the cable access show Media Funhouse. Ms. 45 stands as a testament to just one of her talents. It also stands as Abel Ferrara’s first masterpiece. A true underground classic, absolutely essential. Plus how cool is the title “Ms. 45”? Rolls off the tongue nicely, doesn’t it?

The Addiction (1995)

Abel Ferrara is a ballsy filmmaker. I don’t think there’s much to debate about there. When he made his feature film debut (non porno that is) with the infamous 1979 's The Driller Killer, it was obvious right from the start that this guy wasn’t going to hold anything back with his films, and subsequent films such as Ms. 45 and the notorious Bad Lieutenant proved just that. Without question the man is the epitome of an “independent filmmaker”. Fuck getting permits to shoot, just get a crew and go. That’s how he does it. No matter what your opinion is regarding his films (and people have had some strong ones over the years) you have to admire the gall he has. His films have a real gritty quality to them, a harsh realism that leaves a lasting impression long after the film has finished. More often than not there is much more lingering beneath the surface along with all the rawness that is inherit in his works making his films far from one dimensional. In 1995 he and his partner in crime, screenwriter and longtime collaborator Nicholas St. John returned to the horror genre, in an albeit drastically different way, and the result was The Addiction, one of the oddest, most unconventional, yet totally original vampire films in recent memory.

While walking home one night, New York philosophy major Kathleen Conklin (Lili Taylor) is accosted by a strange woman (Annabella Sciorra) who drags her down into a alley, bites her on the neck then coldly exclaims “You want to know what’s going to happen? Wait and see.” Kathleen has just been turned into a vampire, while she struggles at first to come to terms with her condition, she quickly adapts to her new lifestyle, seemingly embracing it, finding herself fully addicted to human blood and the newfound evil she discovers in herself, yet there is a strong feeling of guilt that remians lingering in her about the whole thing, and a chance encounter with a master vampire named Piena (Christopher Walken) leaves her reassessing her entire outlook on her nature while struggling to not be overtaken by her vampyric urges.

The Addiction is a weird movie, and the way it goes about accomplishing what it sets out to do will probably  make it unappealing to a good number of people. A pity, as I doubt said people have ever seen a vampire movie like this one. These isn’t your average vampire flick that’s for sure but it’s precisely it’s unique vision and fresh take on vampires that makes it work as well as it does. There are some familiar classic vampire traditions included here and there but for the most this film is  in a league of it’s own. The film is heavy with metaphor, the most obvious one being vampire = junkie, although in reality I’d hardly call that subtext as it’s more than blatant. Hell, remember what the title of the movie is! I know this isn’t the first film to allude to that but it’s never been done in such a direct way as it is here. Before Kathleen begins to bite, she extracts blood from people via syringe and shoots it up. The effect it is very much like heroin, she leans back with a look of relief/ecstasy on her face. Of course when she goes without, hunger sets in, a withdrawal mimicking the worst type of dopesick imaginable, writhing in agony, vomiting (Ferrara has Kathleen vomit blood which is a nice tough), the works. When feeding is discussed amongst vampires, it’s handled like a conversation involving two addicts. Drinking blood is referred to as a “fix”. One of the most interesting things about The Addiction and it’s vampires is the interaction they have with their victims. When Kathleen is first bit, the attacking vampire tells her to “Tell me to go away, say it with conviction”, and Kathleen does the same with her victims, as if  she’s giving them a chance. After she bites a fellow student that she’s lured to her apartment the student sobs and asks how could she have done that to her, Kathleen states in an emotionless manner “It was your decision”.

By making Kathleen a philosophy major, this gives the film license to muse upon various philosophical issues, quoting many of histories great thinkers using vampirism as a catalyst, and it’s one of the biggest reasons why the film stands out, by having all of these theories used in the context of a vampire film. I’m not going to dissect every single idea the film puts out, but there are a few important ones that are front in center, and it’s kind of hard to discuss the film without bringing up a few on them. The film has a lot to say about the evils of humanity, more specifically that evil is inherent in all humans. Towards the end of the film Kathleen’s maker quotes ”We're not evil because of the evil we do, but we do evil because we are evil. Yeah. Now what choices do such people have? It's not like we have any options.” Throughout the film we hear voiceovers with Kathleen discussing this idea plus a variety of other topics that all correlate to the themes contained in the film. Whether or not St. John and Ferrara actually believe in the theories present in the film, or just thought they would make for interesting discussion, I’m not sure. This idea of evil being inherit in humanity leads to guilt, another topic that is discussed at length in the film. The guilt aspect also goes hand in hand with the drug addiction allegory. The “comedown” Kathleen feels after acting on her impulses is not unlike the self loathing an addict would feel after getting a fix, knowing it’s implications. Guilt also leads into  the classic Ferrara them of redemption and forgiveness, which in turn leads into the films very ambiguous ending which is open to interpretation to say the least.

Kathleen’s transformation into a full fledged violent bloodsucker does happen fairly quickly, yet at the same time it’s not rushed at all, which is great as we get to witness her character gradually come full circle. Lili Taylor is flat out amazing as Kathleen throwing herself into the role with abandon. One of her finest hours for sure. What impressed me the most about her was the physicality she brought to the role. When Kathleen’s predatory instincts take over the results are very visceral, and her withdrawal scenes are painful to watch, the way Taylor goes all out like she’s having a seizure, violently thrashing on the street and vomiting blood, and even almost physically attacking herself while trying to control the urge to get a fix. One of the best sequences in the film finds Kathleen ranting to her best friend Jean (played by Edie Falco) on the topic of guilt. It’s fascinating to watch as Taylor draws you in with her intense delivery and mannerisms, she could have been going off about the Easter bunny and it still would have been just as enticing. She’s that good, and more than credible. Moments after her guilt speech she delivers the great line “I’ll crush you like cardboard”. So awesome. Plus she looks sexy as hell in those sunglasses she wears throughout the film. Although his screen time is brief, Christopher Walken is unforgettable and the short time Kathleen spends with his character Piena is incredibly important in the grand scheme of things. Piena claims to have been “fasting” for 40 years, and has been able to control his urges for a “fix”. He tells Kathleen it’s possible with will power to control the urges and says it’s all about blending in, not letting yourself stick out. He can eat normal food and has a job. Yet he also knows just what he is, and because of that see’s himself as something that’s beyond the concept of good and evil. Walken is brilliant as always, making Piena a confident, somewhat arrogant, yet ultimately authoritative figure. You don’t want him to stop talking.

Ferrara opted to shoot The Addiction in stark black and white and it worked wonders. One of his biggest strengths behind the camera has always been able to capture this feeling of grit yet at the same time make it incredibly stylish and artful and that balance is on display perfectly here. The atmosphere you want in a vampire movie is present, but it’s of an rough, urban nature. Naturally this is a bleak and dark film, and Ferrara uses the black and white look to his utmost advantage. The scene in which Kathleen is bitten makes perfect use of the limited light, with both Taylor and Sciorra’s faces mostly obscured by silhouettes and the sound design used in the scene gives it an almost surreal, otherworldly quality. The film opens with images from the May Lai massacre during the Vietnam war and Kathleen’s voice over monologues are accompanied by stills from the Holocaust, which I’m sure will get many peoples panties in a bunch calling it cheap shock value. These images do serve a purpose, an extreme purpose I admit but remember what kind of film this is and the context in which they were used. Of course leave it to Ferrara to stage an ultra violent finale wherein Kathleen throws a party in celebration of her getting her PHD, inviting all her new vampire cohorts to feast on the poor unsuspecting partygoers, a prime example of his ability to create highly stylized violence. The aftermath, or the “overdose” as it’s been called is another scene shot in a nightmarish/surrealist fashion, with Kathleen walking gingerly down the streets of New York City drenched in blood. Ferrara crafts the scene in a way to put the viewer in the same kind of daze Kathleen is experiencing. Piling on to the already harsh urban environment the soundtrack is comprised of some pretty bouncing hip hop tunes, including a great use of Cypress Hill’s “I Wanna Get High”.

Christopher Walken is a Ferrara regular, having starred in one of the directors most well known films King of New York and also starring in Ferrara’s incredibly depressing gangster film The Funeral which was shot back to back with The Addiction and also features Annabella Sciorra. He would go on to star in the cyberpunk tinged New Rose Hotel the following year alongside Willem Dafoe (who has become Ferrara’s muse in recent years) and Asia Argento. A fun fact about The Addiction, along with Sciorra and Edie Falco, keep an eye out for Michael Imperioli who makes a brief appearance as one of those guys who hands out “God Loves You” pamphlets on the street. That’s three Soprano’s stars in the same movie 4 years before the series premiered. Always thought that was pretty cool. The Addiction isn't for everyone (although the same could probably be said about the majority of Ferrara’s output) and it does have it’s fair share of detractors who slag it off as pretentious. There’s a lot too a film like this. It’s fairly short at 82 minutes but a lot of ground gets covered an taking it all at face value will probably give off the wrong impressions. If your looking for the tried and true “classic” vampire, you won’t find it here. If your looking for sappy, romantic vampires stay as far away as possible. However, if you are looking for a completely original take on vampires and willing to go in with an open mind, The Addiction is perfect, and it’s also a shining example of how ridiculously talented an actress Lili Taylor is. Another thing, it amazes me that this movie is 17 years old and it STILL doesn’t have an “official” DVD release in America. I’m calling shenanigans. This film is prime for a Criterion release, but I’m not holding my breath. Now tell me to go away.