Showing posts with label Renato Polselli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Renato Polselli. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Renato Polselli's The Reincarnation of Isabel (1973)

The narrative of The Reincarnation of Isabel (1973) is either incidental, non-existent, or totally supplanted by Renato Polselli's rendition of images. Its acting is non-naturalistic and theatrical to accompany its lighting, special effects, and compositions. As to whom this film is designed to appeal is unknown; but it is a certainty that its result is not for mass consumption. It's an arthouse film in feel, not appealing to the intellectual set, like a grindhouse exploitation flick wrapped in gold paper, served on silver sterling, and fed to few.
Isabel (Rita Calderoni) was branded a vampire and a witch by the townspeople hundreds of years ago. As she was tied to the stake and before she was set aflame, a townsperson with a mallet and sharp wooden stake impaled her heart. Her lover (Mickey Hargitay) watches as the townsfolk cheer during the lynching. After she dies, the heartbroken lover pulls her body from the stake with the help of a local (Raul Lovecchio). Cut to modern times at an ancient castle where the same three actors appear in different roles: Calderoni is Laureen, who is marrying Richard (William Darni); Hargitay is her stepfather and he has purchased the castle; and the local from history is a resident of the castle and an occultist. Isabel's corpse was never destroyed and it needs the eyes and hearts of young virgins, so the Devil can plant his seed of immortality within her and bring Isabel back to life...again.
The narrative of The Reincarnation of Isabel possibly does not start until about halfway through the film; and that's okay: the viewers still watching at that point are more than likely not to notice or are not interested in traditional narratives. Polselli, in addition to directing, wrote and edited Reincarnation, is not interested in a rendering a traditional narrative, either. From its kaleidoscopic, psychedelic opening title sequence to its modern score, it is obvious that despite its ancient castle location and backstory set in history, Polselli's Reincarnation is not a traditional Gothic horror film from its inception.
As Isabel needs the "eyes and hearts of young virgins," her corpse also needs some servants to acquire and feed these to her. Some young virgins are also required. Reincarnation has plenty of unrealistic (yet bloody) gore, as wildly-dressed, theatrical Satanists perform rituals in Isabel's name. Polselli shoots his Satanic ritual sequences in pure, unfiltered, and solid-colored light: the colors blue, green, and red flash like a marquee sign on the ritual's participants who are dressed more like superheroes than Satanists. At another point in the film these same Satanists take to the young virgins of whom there are quite a few around the castle and reveal themselves also as vampires, dressed in solid black with Dracula's capes (the legendary Count also appears in Reincarnation, adding another level to this production). When two characters have a normal, rational conversation within Reincarnation, this is the scene that stands out as odd.
Calderoni's Laureen intuitively should be focal in Reincarnation. She's a dead ringer for the dead witch and seemingly her body is going to be the modern home for Isabel. Not quite. During Laureen's engagement party, Polselli takes an innocuous sequence which would have traditionally been used by film makers to introduce characters and backstory and reveal character conflicts and uses the party as an opportunity to confuse the viewer by blending backstory and characters and character conflicts with flashbacks, subjective shots, close-ups on actors' faces (revealing each either has some link to the past, is becoming possessed by something from without, or is just plain sinister-looking and hiding a dark secret). Laureen's party becomes a psychedelic experience without a pill in sight. Muscleman Hargitay as the modern Jack Nelson begins crying at the party. Is he remembering the emotions of long ago when his lover was being killed? Does he remember the ancient incident or just feeling overwhelming emotion? Cute Steffy (Stefania Fassio, whose character is both the catalyst and the vehicle for the film's slapstick humor) sees something unusual at the party, also. She falls down quite a bit of stairs and Polselli reveals her character at the bottom as not genuinely injured with no one really caring.
Beautiful Christa (Christa Barrymore) is the focal character within Reincarnation. Polselli's camera eyes have the strongest affection for her as she becomes both the victim and the killer. Every initial shot of the actress lingers upon her, and as Reincarnation progresses, the camera becomes more intense upon her. For example, when she receives the vampire's kiss, Polselli could care less to reveal that her attacker is a vampire or to show her attacker's face at all: what is essential to Polselli is focusing on the ecstasy in Christa's face and delivering one of Reincarnation's most audacious compositions: a subjective, P.O.V. shot from the attacker at her neck. While presumably his fangs are sunk in her neck through his eyes, Polselli looks down upon Christa's chest whose blouse is now open and the attacker's hand is roaming freely. When Christa takes on her second life as a killer herself, Polselli is all the more excited, as he is able to indulge his desires further. Christa becomes a seductress upon a willing young female; and Polselli is able to render this seduction with as much flesh and theatrics and odd compositions as he can imagine.
The ending of The Reincarnation of Isabel wraps the narrative in a neat, tidy package, so neat and tidy that it would seem Polselli had no problem wrangling it. Wrangling the narrative of Reincarnation for anyone else, however, would be an exercise in futility.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Renato Polselli's The Vampire and The Ballerina (1960)

After milking the cows, a young maiden goes wandering to encounter a sinister vampire! She's bitten and taken to a villa which houses a troupe of ballerinas. The local farmer who brought the young milk maiden says there's a vampire on the loose, but the Professor (Pier Ugo Gragnani) believes otherwise: vampires exist only in superstitions and legends. The ballerinas are curious and a little frightened, but there is choreography and dancing to do. Young and handsome Luca (Isarco Ravaioli) arrives to see Francesca (Tina Gloriani). Luca, Francesca, and Luisa (Hélène Rémy) take a leisurely stroll that day, only to get caught in the forest with nightfall approaching. Luca suggests that they take refuge in the old abandoned castle on the hill. Inside, the trio is welcomed by Countess Ogda (María Luisa Rolando). Her attire is dated by about a hundred years, and the ladies remark upon this. The Countess reveals that she has no desire to connect to the world outside of the castle walls. She invites the three for tea. The Countess's manservant, (also named) Luca (Walter Brandi) summons the Countess away momentarily, and Luisa takes the opportunity to wander in the castle. She receives the vampire's kiss, and the trio leave, a little confused and a little scared. The Countess says to Luca, before the three exit, "I must see you again."Renato Polselli's The Vampire and The Ballerina is an Italian film released in 1960. Riccardo Freda and Mario Bava were making the true Gothic horror in Italy around that time, for example, with Freda's (with Bava's collaboration) I vampiri (1956), Bava's Black Sunday (1960) and Black Sabbath (1963), before his highly influential Blood and Black Lace (1964). The English Hammer Studios were conquering Gothic atmospheric horror with a litany of flicks, such as Terence Fisher's Horror of Dracula (1958). More modern horror was also on the horizon, such as in France with Georges Franju's masterful Eyes Without a Face (1960); while a little-known director of the time would unleash a film that would change the face of modern horror forever entitled Psycho (1960) by Alfred Hitchcock. Polselli's film isn't really kin to any of these films. The Vampire and The Ballerina is more aligned with campy fun flicks from across the pond like those made in the U.S. and Mexico, like Alfonso Corona Blake's Santo vs. las mujeres vampiro (1962).

While the title of the film is simply The Vampire and The Ballerina, there is less emphasis on "vampire" and more on "ballerina." Specifically, a heavy emphasis on Polselli's part on emphasizing his young actresses with a fondness for longing camera looks into their eyes, medium shots above their cleavage, and obsessive captures of these ladies' legs. The teasing in this film is enough to send most of the young gents into a tingling frenzy, rushing home after the cinema without consulting any magazines that evening. Polselli takes the time to break his narrative in the film, like in an El Santo film with a wrestling match, to treat the viewer to two dancing sequences. The first is a fun upbeat song and dance, with the ladies in their leotards, with Polselli's camera near the floor. The second dance is both campy and sexy: the choreographer gets the idea of integrating vampire lore into the productions. He begins to play a tune and the ladies begin interpretive dance: sexy, sensuous moves with lots of shots of long legs, cigarette smoke, and quite a bit of gyrating. A vampire is included in the narrative, as I was apt to forget from time to time, and Polselli adds some interesting touches. For example, after the young maiden is bitten from the initial scene, she later dies and is buried. The vampire arrives at the cemetery and digs up her corpse. She rises as one of the undead, only to be staked by the vampire who made her and driving her back into the grave. This vampire is an egotistical one: the Countess (what a shock) is also a vampire who is tortured by this grim soul. She's not allowed to leave the castle and feeds only when the vampire allows her. He threatens the Countess by using the weaknesses they both share against her, like banishing her to sunlight if she disobeys.
The vampire portion of the narrative is traditional, cheesy, and fun, yet the true charm of The Vampire and the Ballerina is its leisurely pace and scenes with Gloriani's Francesca and Remy's Luisa. Two fantastic performances, as the two characters go from close friends to near adversaries. Young and handsome Luca and the Countess have a terrific scene together, as the Countess attempts to seduce Luca in order for him to free her from the castle. The meandering pacing of the film is fun, because the performances are so good. When the narrative is close to ending, it's awkwardly wrapped up. I didn't find this aspect disconcerting. Of all the participants in this production, the most notable is co-writer and assistant director, Ernesto Gastaldi, with one of his earliest credits. Gastaldi is a legendary Italian screenwriter who wrote some of my all-time favorite genre films, such as Sergio Martino's Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (1972), Torso (1973), and Umberto Lenzi's Almost Human (1974). He has numerous credits, and his screenplays are often smartly-written and creative.
Practically forgotten or overshadowed by other genre films of the period, The Vampire and The Ballerina is true campy fun and is waiting to be uncovered by the curious.