Jean Rollin's La fiancée de Dracula (2000)

"For a long time," says Jean Rollin, "I dreamed of a close-up, an image, of a woman, naked if possible, the whiteness of her body making a nice contrast with the pebbles on the ground. And she is tied to wooden posts with the tide rising until it enveloped and covered her and I described it in many of my books. In the end, my heroine dies, caught in a trap, with the tide rising all around her. Finally, in my most recent film, La fiancée de Dracula I was able to realize this dream."
This anecdote by Rollin about his film, La fiancée de Dracula (2000), is fantastically rich. Within, there is the idea that the film maker is haunted ("for a long time") by images within his dreams. He has rendered this dream in his fiction; and whether the fiction inspired the dream or vice versa is unknown. The image was only "realized," or made true (perhaps), when captured on film. The romantic idea that a whole film could have its impetus in a dream, and the whole film could be created in order to capture this dream image is very Rollin-esque. The "pebbles on the ground" belong undeniably to one of Rollin's favorite cinematic settings, the beach at Dieppe; and his return there to film sequences as in La fiancée de Dracula is unsurprising. Also unsurprising, La fiancée de Dracula is a dream-like film.
The Dieppe sequence, which Rollin describes above, re-creates (or evokes) another sequence from his cinema. Rollin writes, "Again, the screenings were punctuated by laughter and sarcastic remarks. For me the most painful laughter came during the scene on the beach; on the pebbled shore a vampire suddenly emerges from a box. This is one of the most unusual images of my cinema, and despite the whistling and heckling it remains dazzling for me. It's there that true strangeness lies." This description is about a film that he made approximately thirty years earlier, La vampire nue (1969). Perhaps with the freedom that he found with his previous film, Les deux orphelines vampires (1995), Rollin was ready to reunite two lovers in his cinema, a vampire and the reluctantly-drawn and eager-to-surrender lover in La fiancée de Dracula.
All who come in contact with Dracula within La fiancée de Dracula succumb to madness; and the characters who populate this simple narrative, the viewer encounters them in various states of such. The Professor (Jacques Orth), also a medium, and his assistant, Eric (Denis Tallaron) are searching for the legendary Count. The Count is hidden away, seemingly in another dimension, while parallel characters who exist on earthbound planes, such as an ogress (Magalie Madison), a she-wolf (Brigitte Lahaie), and a pale, frail female vampire (Sandrine Thoquet), attempt to keep his location a secret. The key to finding Dracula is through Isabelle (Cyrille Iste) whose location is being guarded also. Isabelle is housed in a convent in Paris by a special order of nuns who are determined to keep Isabelle from uniting with Dracula. Succumbing to madness in a very severe state, the nuns' hold over Isabelle is tenuous. The Professor and Eric attempt to free Isabelle from the convent to find Dracula.
In response to the question, "What influence have the Surrealist artists (such as Dali, Magritte, Trouille) had on the way in which you structure your films," Rollin responds: "Of course, Surrealistic art had a great influence on me. But not only painting. For example in Le Frisson des Vampires, a girl gets out of a clock at the stroke of midnight, this image is a surrealistic composition. The image shot is surrealistic work. Like the collages of Max Ernst, I like to show strange motives, poetry, not gore. I prefer the fantastic, not the gore."
This response by Rollin is compelling (it is taken from a late interview, closer in time to La fiancée's production, in Issue Number Four of Ultra Violent magazine, edited and published by Scott Gabbey, Palm Bay, FL, 2002); and his choice of words, especially "strange motives" is telling. With the motif of Dracula's contact (or influence) causing madness, each character's dialogue moves into Absurdism. The absurdist dialogue against the surrealist imagery is both disorienting and fantastic. Most of the "parallel" characters within the film are examples with Madison's ogress character being a strong one. When the Professor and Eric (and the viewer) first encounter Madison's character, she is being teased at the base of a large tower in a village by the locals. Eric believes with her madness that she is unable to give any helpful information, but the Professor chides him: within her mind, despite the madness, is the key. The professor uses his medium skills to decipher and guide Madison with her words. The image of the young woman, frolicking in madness around the large tower, is another beautiful Rollin composition.
Rollin returns with his clock imagery (even more so in his subsequent La nuit des horloges (2007)); his Dieppe beach imagery; vampires and clowns. But there is also a willfulness, seemingly not apparent in his previous work (save Perdues dans New York (1989) and Les deux orphelines). La fiancée de Dracula feels also less guarded than his previous works. It is as if Rollin is filming truly what he wants regardless of audience reaction. If there is any laughter, perhaps Rollin is fueling it intentionally. The Mother Superior has a notable cigarette lighter in another standout sequence. Along with his willfulness, Rollin is very much playful and poetic with La fiancée; and it's well-worth seeing for Rollin fans.
The first Rollin quote is from an interview included on the region-one Media Blasters/Shriek Show DVD of La fiancée de Dracula (the link is for purchase and reference). The second Rollin quote from within the third paragraph is from Rollin's essay in Virgins and Vampires, Crippled Publishing, edited by Peter Blumenstock, Germany, 1997. All other sources are as quoted within.

José Ramón Larraz's The House That Vanished (1973)

In a film which only slightly predates his notorious Vampyres (1974), The House That Vanished (1973), directed by José Ramón Larraz, shares its uncomfortable (and for some, effective) mix of sex and violence; however, the Spanish filmmaker's film also contains many of his unique visuals and motifs.
Valerie (Andrea Allan) is a very beautiful photographer's model and content with her life. She has a dodgy boyfriend named Terry (Alex Leppard) whom she accompanies on a short road trip to the country just before the weekend. Valerie does not know the trip's final destination and neither does Terry: he is stopping to consult his map, telling Valerie to "shut up," and then winding on into the forestry, each stop ever-so slightly further from the city. Night falls and the fog rolls in, and Valerie tells Terry that she cannot see anything out of the windshield. Terry spies a house and is "dead certain" that it is the location for which he has been searching. Terry is far from certain but it is late and he commits to this location, an uninhabited country house. Terry tells Valerie to wait in the car, and he goes in alone, keeping the house dark while searching. Valerie becomes cold and bored and eventually follows Terry inside. She catches him in the midst of a would-be burglary; but it seems as if Terry's information about the home's contents were inaccurate. Not only is Valerie now angry that Terry brought her along on a burglary but brought her along to the wrong house. Someone enters the darkened home, a couple, and Valerie and Terry hide in a closet. Only two exit the house, Valerie and a black-gloved gentleman.
One of the typical motifs of the mystery/thriller/horror genre is to have the protagonist witness something incredulous (a murder), and then have myriad other characters in the narrative attempt to convince the protagonist that what he/she saw is inaccurate. The narrative (and the filmmaker) then sides with its protagonist and makes him/her the mark for the killer (the viewer also sides with the protagonist). Genre hijinx subsequently ensue. However in The House That Vanished not only are Valerie's friends able to convince her that things are not what they seem but Valerie talks herself into complacency. Fair enough, for she has a good life: she's young, independent, and although not famous nor rich in her career, Valerie, perhaps, is on the brink of getting the next modeling job which will propel her into a more lucrative arena. Larraz fuels his narrative by siding with Valerie; and only visiting the threshold of the sinister to propel his narrative mystery along. The House That Vanished remains unequivocally throughout its duration a genre film. How long Larraz is able to keep the proceedings rational is the trick.
Larraz is somewhat successful in his attempt with The House That Vanished. Terry is immediately established as dodgy. In a brilliant scene, Terry drops his child off at his mother's home and wants to give him a gift for the weekend. Terry asks Valerie for a fiver and then beams a smile at his son that he's given him such a kind gift. After the weekend burglary sojourn, are you surprised dear Valerie that Terry has pulled a flit? Terry will eventually turn up. Several characters appear in the narrative, the would-be classic "red herrings;" however, Larraz shapes them to be a little strange but no more than that. One of Valerie's friends is introduced sleeping in her birthday suit only to be awakened by her pet monkey. Now read that sentence, again. Valerie's friend has a pet monkey. That is weird. However, Valerie's friend is presented, despite this quirk, as overall a very normal and comforting person. So when the would-be "red-herrings" appear, each can have a strange quirk, and Valerie can rationalize it: her boyfriend and friends are a little kooky, so why cannot the rest of the general public be a little weird?
Larraz is very adept at creating a languid pace infused with a strong atmospheric presence. His later film, perhaps under-appreciated today, Symptoms (1974), is strong evidence. Larraz is also equally adept at creating lurid sequences, usually involving sex, violence, or both. Vampyres is strong evidence of the latter. His adeptness at creating both stems from his undeniable talent; and his fan attraction comes from thrill-seekers seeking one or the other but rarely both. The inclusion of the extremely effective lurid sequences within The House That Vanished undercut his technique with his mystery, keeping appearances as rational as possible. The lurid sequences are too nasty and too well-rendered to be ignored. Larraz wants his viewer to sym/emphathize with Valerie; yet when the viewer encounters these sequences, the exploitative feel is overwhelming. The languid-paced atmosphere is punctuated far too loudly. The House That Vanished performs a schism. The authors of Immoral Tales: European Sex & Horror Movies, 1956-1984 (the link serves purpose for reference and purchase) write:

Scream and Die [an alternative title for House] was a Spanish/English co-production. All the mysterious, atmospheric shots were filmed in England, the rest was shot in Barcelona. It was a transitional film for Larraz, it solidified his links with the British low budget film industry, making it possible for him to do his first completely English film, Symptoms. The credits for Scream and Die implied that it was a British film through and through. Sex film director Derek Ford, for example, was given screenplay credit even though he had nothing to do with it. This played down the Spanish angle, making it easier to get distribution in England, also increasing the likelihood of American companies picking it up for the U.S. market.

The producers of Scream and Die wanted a fairly hefty quotient of sex in the film, and though this wasn't exactly to Larraz's taste he didn't back away from the subject.

If both the languid and the lurid were not so creative and effective, perhaps The House That Vanished would be, overall, more effective for viewers. If one were played down, the other could dominate, and most viewers could easily categorize and subsequently digest the film. Visually, Larraz is without equal in his unique images. For example, Valerie's escape from the house during the first act leads her to hide in a scrapyard. It looks like an auto graveyard (to borrow a phrase from Iggy Pop) and has an odd theatrical feel combined with some real tension, as the black-gloved killer goes searching for her. My favorite scene is (unsurprisingly) a quiet one, where Valerie enters the lobby of her apartment building. The lobby is dark but she ignores it and walks upstairs. The camera lingers in the darkness slightly too long. A door opens giving the darkness little light, so Larraz can capture a shadow in the midst of complete darkness. An obscure film.

Ruggero Deodato's Uomini si nasce poliziotti si muore (Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man) (1976)

At a cafe, two extremely good-looking young gentlemen, Fred (Marc Porel) and Tony (Ray Lovelock) are having coffee. Both have sugar while one has decaf. Save the expected street noise, it is a quiet afternoon in Rome. The noise at the cafe's pinball machine attracts the attention of Fred and Tony who then become fixated with the two men surrounding it. Tony puts a silencer on a pistol and covers it with a newspaper. Fred follows suit. The pinball game comes to an end, and the men occupying its space enter the street. A van makes an abrupt stop outside. The van speeding is assumed from the stop. A misdemeanor at most. The two men at the cafe join another in the street. Fred and Tony pull their pistols and kill a man sitting alone in a car and a man standing reading a newspaper, respectively. The three men in the street don hoods and pull weapons. Without any hooded figure firing a shot, two of the group of hooded three are killed by Tony and Fred near the van. The lone survivor of the van group (but not for long) attempts on foot to escape in the crowded street. Tony cracks an adept shot to his head; and the final corpse hits the asphalt, and blood streams making a large pool. Cue soft acoustic ballad (sung by lead actor Ray Lovelock). Fred starts his motorcycle and Tony hops on the back. The two leave. Sound like murder?
Or does it matter? In Ruggero Deodato's Uomini si nasce poliziotti si muore (Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man) (1976) in the director's signature style, there is a lot of immoral fun to be had by its characters while their director seeks an amoral tone with his film. This is an extremely judgemental description of the film, and perhaps totally inaccurate. The inclusion of Lovelock's ballads within the film were, according to Deodato, to soften the tone of the film. The tone of the film is what? Violent? "It was very violent, perhaps too violent" says Lovelock in retrospect. Al Cliver was offered a role in the film by Deodato who had previously appeared in his Una ondata di piacere (Wave of Lust) (1975) but declined the role after reading Fernando di Leo's script, because it was "too bloody, too violent. Both the dialogue and the action." (Cliver would not turn down a subsequent Di Leo script with I padroni della città (1976).) In addition to Lovelock's ballads, Deodato added light-hearted scenes to soften the violence and to give the film a cop-film feel, like American ones such as Bonnie and Clyde (1967). Silvia Dionisio appears as a secretary in Live Like a Cop, and she has a lot of fun keeping Porel's Fred and Lovelock's Tony at bay: fun flirting in mock adversarial positions. Deodato even exercised restraint by toning down the violence in a particularly nasty scene where Bibi Pasquini (Renato Salvatori) has one of his henchmen remove the eye of a drug-addicted debtor. Deodato said he filmed the eye being pulled from the victim's socket and then in close-up, filmed the eyeball being squished under foot. Deodato admits the scene is still violent in its cut form.Save Deodato's one act of restraint in excising his cinematic violence, the violence in Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man remains, only to be softened by its director. Deodato admits: "It's a cop film that I made and got to make my own personal decisions." Like his screenwriter Fernando di Leo, Ruggero Deodato loves being playful (even dangerously so) and combined with his undeniable creative talent, it is this playful, irreverent attitude which makes his cinema so compelling. Uomini si nasce poliziotti si muore (Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man), Deodato's sole entry into the 1970s crime genre, is amongst one of his best works and one of the best films of that genre.The punchline to the first paragraph above is the absence of three important facts: Fred and Tony are police officers (of a "special squad" which officially doesn't officially exist); the men that the two kill are known criminals about to commit a heist; and the heist is never executed. One could argue that the five slain would-be thieves are guilty of conspiracy to commit robbery at the time of their death but then, one would have to answer the question: why does no police officer identify himself and arrest them? Or the moral perspective, did the crime of conspiracy merit an on-the-scene killing? Any viewer can play with those questions and come up with an answer. The facts that remain from within the film unequivocally lead to this answer: Fred and Tony are two criminals, with a propensity for violence, with badges.The opening ten minutes of Live Like a Cop are famous for its motorcycle chase (exciting and brilliantly filmed by Deodato) but the events that prompt the chase and the events which occur after the chase are the incendiary ones. A woman exits a bank with a satchel handcuffed to her wrist. Two thugs on a motorbike attempt to snatch the satchel and make a quick getaway. The woman victim is dragged, and her head lodges into a metal pole. Still not deterred, the thug gets off the bike and begins violently pulling her arm to free the satchel, eventually stomping her head. The thugs flee without the satchel. Fred and Tony witness the crime. Motorcycle chase ensues. At the conclusion of the chase, one criminal gets impaled in a crash and dies which prompts a smirk from Lovelock's Tony. Fred attends to the other thug who was thrown from the motorbike. Although severely injured, the criminal is still alive...but not for long, as Porel's Fred snaps his neck with his hands. The impetus crime and the chase result are mirror images: criminals committing crimes in different societal roles. The talent on both sides of the camera shines. Marc Porel and Ray Lovelock are damn sexy men giving fantastic performances in an arrogant yet coy style, infusing their characters' attitudes. Gorgeous Silvia Dionisio beams with her smiles in a small, scene-stealing performance. Her sister, Sofia, steals her only scene with Porel and Lovelock later in the film. The best two performances with characters with the richest complexity are Adolfo Celi, as Fred and Tony's boss, and Renato Salvatori, as Bibi Pasquini, the crime boss that Fred and Tony chase in Live Like a Cop's main narrative. Two veteran actors at the top of their game. Di Leo delivers another acid-tongued, smart-aleck script and Deodato executes. Like most of Deodato's cinema, Live Like a Cop is still powerful and incendiary today. Is being bad this much fun? I wouldn't know, but Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man certainly is. The film is available on DVD from Italian label, Raro, in a very nice non-anamorphic widescreen print with both English and Italian (with English subtitles) audio. Included amongst its supplements is an approximately forty-minute featurette with Deodato, Lovelock, Cliver, and others involved in the production (and where all quotes and objective facts within are taken).

Santo en El tesoro de Drácula (1969) versus Santo el enmascarado de plata vs los villanos del ring (1968)

First up is René Cardona's Santo en El tesoro de Drácula (1969) in which cinema's greatest superhero, El Santo, is a scientist. Entering second is Alfredo B. Crevenna's Santo el enmascarado de plata vs los villanos del ring (1968) in which cinema's greatest superhero, El Santo, is mediator, organizer, investigator, and above all, wrestler. Santo's opponents are the gangster, Black Hood, and the legendary Count Dracula and Francisco Iglesias (Francisco Jambrina), conman and swindler, and his crew of criminals and evil wrestlers, respectively. Let us see how these flicks fare in Santo fashion, two out of three falls, both possessing wonderfully complex and contrived plots.
In Santo en El tesoro de Drácula, Santo debuts his latest invention to the scientific community. His invention is a contraption which allows a human subject to travel into the past and enter into a previous life. Thus, the belief in reincarnation is a strong presumption in its genesis and a serious limitation to the time travel. Once the human subject has successfully entered into his/her past life, then it may assume that life for a preset duration. When the human subject returns to his/her own present life, all observations and knowledge gained from the previous life will remain with the host. Santo believes the opportunity and the quest for knowledge outweighs any inherent dangers in the contraption. It has not yet been tested. The scientific community meets Santo's invention with ridicule. Santo is not deterred and is prompted to test the device. However, any human subject runs the extreme risk of irreparable psychological damage upon re-entry, and male subjects are particularly susceptible. Female subjects possess a four-times greater chance of resisting damage during re-entry. Santo must operate the machine from present day to ensure its success, so he is not a suitable candidate. So his girlfriend, Luisa (Noelia Noel) volunteers. Love it.
In Santo el enmascarado de plata vs los villanos del ring, Santo has a goddaughter, María Elena Ramos (Silvia Fournier) who is engaged to Rodolfo (Wolf Ruvinskis). Santo has raised this wonderful young woman and has given the couple his blessing. However, Santo has promised María's paternal grandmother, Doña Teresa Ramos (Consuelo Frank), on her deathbed, the opportunity to speak with María (from whom she is estranged) and make her peace. María and her grandmother meet. Doña Teresa Ramos apologizes to Maria for not giving approval to her parents' marriage. Shortly after she gave her disapproval, the couple died in an automobile accident. Would she forgive her grandmother? Yes. María's grandmother dies within minutes after her confession. In her will, she leaves María millions of pesos. Enter Francisco Iglesias and here's his grift: Iglesias runs a "spiritual center" where he hosts seances for the spiritually inclined. Doña Teresa Ramos was a member of the center, and during the last seance, she appeared from beyond the grave and requested to speak to her granddaughter. María and Rudolfo attend the latest seance and María's grandmother appears, requesting that María give half of her inheritance, approximately three million pesos, to the spiritual center, so she may find peace in the afterlife.
Both films become more wonderfully complex, incredulous, and intriguing. Back to Luisa in Santo en El tesoro de Drácula, who has made the successful leap back into time (about a hundred years) with Santo's invention. Luisa is in a distinguished manor where her father is a nobleman. In this new past life, Luisa's friend has recently died from mysterious recurring bouts of blood loss, despite receiving regular transfusions to increase her health. Enter Professor Van Roth (Fernando Mendoza), a physician and family friend, who is now treating Luisa for the same symptoms. Enter, also, nobleman Count Alucard (Aldo Monti) who intends on frequenting the villa to ensure that Luisa's treatment is going well. Professor Van Roth thinks the Count is suspicious. Two guesses as to whom the Count really is and one of them is probably right. The Count makes a nocturnal visit to Luisa and intends to make her one of his brides. Back at his crypt, with the las muerjes vampiro, the Count shares a secret to Luisa: the Count holds an opulent treasure. The secret is inscribed upon his medallion and his ring. The holder of both, and only with both, knows the location of the treasure. Before Luisa is inducted into las muerjes vampiro, Professor Van Roth enters with mallet and wooden stake. Santo transports Luisa back to present day, and she recovers.
How is Francisco Iglesias in Santo el enmascarado de plata vs los villanos del ring able to perform his con? A diabolical yet seemingly cost-ineffective scheme. First, he has his beautiful assistant pose as a nurse in a hospice environment where she gains the confidence of the patient. The nurse's mission is to surreptitiously place a tape recorder within the room and record the voice of the soon-to-be-deceased. That's it, her whole mission. The voice recording is needed for Iglesias's other assistant, a master impersonator, who is able to hear any one's voice and duplicate it. After the death of the patient, the corpse is removed after burial. Another of Iglesias's crew makes a mold of the corpse's face and a latex facsimile of the deceased's face is made. With the reproduction of both the voice and the face of the deceased, a seance is performed with the mark in attendance. The duplication of the deceased requests peace in the afterlife for a nominal sum donated to the spiritual center. Awesome.
Now for reviewer confession: unless you possess the joie de vivre which is El Santo cinema, then beyond their conceptions, both films move into the utterly familiar in subsequent execution. However, Santo el enmascarado de plata vs los villanos del ring boasts a very high quantity of action. Unfortunately, for the overwhelming majority of El Santo cinema, regardless of who is at the helm, fight sequences are shot static, as if the viewer is a ringside viewer at a wresting match. This reviewer could watch El Santo, El Enmascarado de Plata, the multitude's hero, do laundry, however. The wonderful flourishes often carry the films. For example in los villanos del ring, Santo calms everyone by telling them that he will consult his criminal files to uncover the identity of the perpetrators. Santo holds a small stack of files approximately three inches in height. Is cinema's greatest superhero only keeping tabs on supervillians? Has Santo rid the city of the majority of crime, and his files represent what is left? Is Santo only now creating files for criminals as a signal for a new direction in crime-fighting? I live for these questions. For more discerning viewers, I hope reading these descriptions were as fun as I had writing them.

Jean Rollin's Les deux orphelines vampires (1995)

"The story of Les Deux...involves two little blind orphans. They can only see at night because they are vampires and the film tells of their adventures. They meet strange creatures, a winged vampire lady, a wolf. There will be no nudity, but--rest assured--there will be some beautiful graveyard scenes, and it's very poetic and full of beautiful dialogue. Brigitte Lahaie will star in it, as well as Tina Aumont, who plays 'The Ghoul.' The two orphans will be played by Alexandra Pic and Isabelle Teboul, two young actresses who have never worked in films before. I found them through a newspaper ad and they are absolutely gorgeous, as you will see."

"[...][T]he vast doorway leading nowhere, a giant yawn of emptiness, which I noticed every day on the way to and from the set. I managed to set aside one hour in the work schedule so that we could use the site for the orphans to walk through."
The image of the doorway would be poetic without Rollin's anecdote informing it, but nonetheless it is a powerful image within his Les deux orphelines vampires (1995). Rollin's anecdote informs its poetic nature in such a way that it almost imbues the film with more hidden mystery and the fantastique. The image and story are poetic alone, set apart from the film: a doorway (a poetic description, as it appears more like a giant gate) with no utility whatsoever, easily circumvented from either side, without maneuvering through the middle, from a distance leading to different points of grass in the same field. At one time, it can be assumed that the doorway did have some utility, leading into an estate now gone or never built. Or perhaps its architects designed the doorway to sit in the middle of the field as its intentional purpose. For whatever reason, Rollin adjusted his entire production to film at its location for a fleeting sequence in Les deux orphelines vampires.

Now fifteen years old, Les deux orphelines vampires is one of Jean Rollin's latest feature films. My initial viewing of the film is almost as old, prior to the DVD revolution, through a dodgy, VHS screener, won perhaps in an online auction. Undeniably, the washed-out picture from umpteen duplications combined with its format drastically reduced its visuals. Needless to say, it was hard to appreciate the film, and at the time, I did not. From what I discerned, Les deux orphelines vampires was an overwhelmingly romantic film, not filled with what I would later learn as Rollin romanticism but the romanticism of the older film maker, revisiting childhood themes through nostalgia. For most viewers and critics, these aesthetics signal an artist's mortality and the end of his/her career. The film serves as a reminder of what was with the artist's work; where in Rollin's case, I saw his work as frequently surrealist montages of sex and violence and pop culture, such as vampires, clowns, pirates, and thieves.

Les deux orphelines vampires is based upon Rollin's novel of the same name, originally published in 1993 by Editions Fleuve Noir, Collection Angoisses No. 6, and was the first in a series of five books involving the titular pair, all penned by Rollin. Les deux orphelines vampires was translated into English and released as Little Orphan Vampires, translated by Pete Tombs who also wrote an introduction, Redemption Books, London, U.K., 1995. It also contains stills from within of the film. Tombs writes in his introduction, "Beginning with Le viol du vampire in 1968, French director Jean Rollin has made 15 films. Most of them have been in the horror/fantasy genre. He's often described as a maker of 'sexy vampire' movies. Yet what really makes his films interesting is not the sex, but the unique fairy tale quality that many of them have...This is the aspect of his work that surfaces most strongly in the books he has written. Little Orphan Vampires is the first of Rollin's fictions to be available in English and, although it has horrifying sequences, it's the romantic, almost whimsical, quality of the story that will surprise many readers." Subsequent to the film's completion, Rollin writes, "The film closely follows the book (and a part of the second volume), even down to the dialogues, which gives them a literary feel, a bit out of phase with the film, which I rather like."Many of Rollin's oldest artistic collaborators work both behind and in front of the camera. One of the most beautiful sequences involves actress, Tina Aumont. Craig Ledbetter, a visitor to the set, describes Aumont and wonderfully describes her scene:

A surprise visitor appears: Tina Aumont. The scandal-attracting Enfant Terrible of French cinema has lost none of her charisma from the days of Salon Kitty, although the excesses of the wild seventies have left their marks. Tina reveals herself to be the most approachable and, in spite of her long screen abstinence, very professional. "An actor without a film to work on is like a person without a family," she remarks, and it's quite obvious that she is happy about this chance for a comeback.

Her first scene is shot the next day. The location is a gigantic quarry not too far away from "Cheval Noir," whose wonderful stone and sand formations remind one of the surface of a distant planet. Cold and unique, it's a sharp contrast to the shapes and colors of the graveyard of Epigny. Here, in this desert from another dimension, Henriette and Louise meet a flesh-eating ghoul, a tragic figure played by Tina Aumont. The world after the apocalypse. The heart of every admirer of Italian Post-Doomsday movies bleeds. The cutting wind howls relentlessly, covering everyone and everything with thin white dust. At the end of the day, the work is done, and while we all try desperately not to bite on grains of sand, the comparatively quiet shooting of the castle scenes in a few days warms the heart.

(I assume that Ledbetter is the author since no author is credited in this piece but it appears in his published, edited, and designed European Trash Cinema, No. 13, Kingwood, Texas, U.S.A., exact year of publication unknown [late 1990s presumably].)

Les deux orphelines vampires is unlike any film made in 1995, similar to his previous work, yet quite a different film from Rollin. A very sensual film, the two orphan vampires have sight when night falls, and the primary color in which they see is blue; and that color permeates the images. Les deux orphelines vampires was released on DVD in 2002 by Media Blasters/Shriek Show as Two Orphan Vampires in anamorphic widescreen with both French (with English subtitles) and English language tracks. Included are brief, later-day interviews with both leads, Alexandra Pic and Isabelle Teboul, and an approximately forty-five minute interview with Rollin, discussing primarily this film but spanning to other facets of his career. The interview ends with a tour of Rollin's office where he shows some important items, including the Book of Incan art, which appears in the film.

Today, I appreciate, admire, and enjoy Les deux orphelines vampires. It is an ethereal, timeless, and very poetically-rendered film. The imagery inspires poetic description. Here are Rollin's thoughts on the completed film:

"And I had a production crew that worked without a hitch: my old crony Lionel Wallman, Sam Selsky making his last film and Jacques Michel, who had already worked on Killing Car. All this gave me the greatest freedom I ever had on a film. It is tamer, but better constructed and more controlled. One might miss the baroque craziness of Viol, Frisson, or Requiem, the wild improvisations of Bankok or Killing Car, and the strangeness of Demoniaques or La rose de fer, but at the same time I believe that Orphelines renders a very accurate picture of the cinema as I understand it, that's to say having the freedom to film what I feel like."

The final quote is from Rollin's essay on Les deux orphelines vampires included in Virgins and Vampires, Crippled Publications, Germany, 1997, edited by Peter Blumenstock, as is the second quote about the "doorway" and the final quote in the fifth paragraph. The first Rollin quote is from an interview conducted with Blumenstock in the same volume. The bibliographic information in the fifth paragraph is from Jean Rollin, Monster Bis, edited by Norbert Moutier, France, date of publication unknown. All other quotes and information are from their sources as cited within.

Las momias de Guanajuato (1972) versus Santo el enmascarado de plata y Blue Demon contra los monstruos (1970)

First up is Federico Curiel's Las momias de Guanajuato (1972) in which cinema's greatest superhero, El Santo, is the destiny of his ancestor's opponent, 7'2'' Satan, a wrestler who sold his soul to the Lord of Darkness for fame but was thwarted by Santo's ancestor, who is now rising after a hundred years with his army of mummies to take revenge. Entering second is Gilberto Martínez Solares's Santo el enmascarado de plata y Blue Demon contra los monstruos (1970) in which cinema's greatest superhero, El Santo, attempts to thwart the assault of evil Dr. Bruno Halder (Carlos Ancira) and his legion of monsters against Santo's girlfriend, Gloria (Hedi Blue) and her father (Jorge Rado). Santo's opponents are the resurrected mummy of Satan and The Mummy, The Wolfman, The Vampire, The Cyclops, Frankenstein's Monster, and Las mujeres vampiro, respectively. Let us see how these flicks fare in Santo fashion, two out of three falls, while keeping in mind both films sing the sad ballad of under-appreciated cinematic superhero, Blue Demon.

Federico Curiel's Las momias de Guanajuato (1972) is a curious production. While Santo is the object of the villain's, Satan's, revenge, Santo only appears in the film's final battle and in a sublime, dream sequence by Satan, where he imagines meeting Santo in the ring during their heyday. Mexican wrestling legends, Blue Demon and Mil Máscaras, carry the film's first two acts in thankless fashion. In Las momias, Satan is wandering the city and breaking various necks of unsuspecting victims. The police believe, quite correctly, that perhaps the perpetrator is a professional wrestler. Satan, in an effort to fuel the police's theory and set them off track, attacks Blue Demon in a blindsided fashion and steals his wrestling gear. Satan commands one of his mummy minions to don Blue Demon's outfit, and the police happen to witness this minion commit a murder. Blue Demon becomes the prime suspect.In Gilberto Martínez Solares's Santo el enmascarado de plata y Blue Demon contra los monstruos (1970), Blue Demon fares far worse. Santo and Blue Demon break after the last wrestling competition to both go on vacation. Santo is looking to spend time with his girlfriend, Gloria, while Blue Demon vacations alone. Like Santo, Blue Demon pursues justice at all times; so when Blue Demon witnesses suspicious behavior at a gloomy castle atop a hill, he breaks from his vacation to investigate. Not long after entering Dr. Bruno Halder's mad-scientist laboratory, Blue Demon is subdued by one of Halder's reanimated, monstrous henchmen. After his capture, Halder duplicates Blue Demon and through mind control makes him one of his monsters. For the majority of Los monstruos, Blue Demon must fight against his friend and rival only in the ring, Santo. In a very sad scene, all of the monsters are marching up a hill back to the castle with their heads down, having suffered a merciless defeat at the two hands of Santo. Blue Demon is the last in the line and before marching on, he gives a fleeting look back at the camera with a tearful, longing look in his eye.Blue Demon may take comfort that his role(s) is not Blue Demon but a doppelganger Blue Demon. However, I would side with Blue Demon and say this is semantics. Never in the history of cinema has its iconic monsters suffered such a beating as they have in Santo el enmascarado de plata y Blue Demon contra los monstruos. Santo ruthlessly body slams The Vampire; jumps from the driver's seat of his convertible to take down Frankenstein's monster; and attempts a monkey flip on The Mummy only to have The Mummy plunge to his death from a rooftop. The Cyclops kills a victim near a lagoon's shore, and Santo correctly identifies the perpetrator, from its tracks, as a water-based organism. Santo treks underwater to find The Cyclops's lair. When he meets the legendary, Greek mythological character, Santo is relentless. Its one eye was totally unable to see the fury of Santo's fists. Dr. Halder has to perform emergency surgery to save The Cyclops.When Santo does appear in Guanajuato in Las momias, he is aided by both Blue Demon and Mil Máscaras in the final battle against Satan and his mummy army. However, in the battle scenes (shot clumsily, by the way), Santo appears to be a one-man army unto himself. Any pipe dream that Satan may have had of revenge dissolves in minutes. When Santo is ready to end the battle, he tells Mil Máscaras to get the guns from the passenger side of his convertible. Mil Máscaras returns with three golden ray guns which emit streams of fire. Amazing.Santo el enmascarado de plata y Blue Demon contra los monstruos is a true comic book come to life and is the superior film. The film has so many wonderful flourishes, too numerous to continue here. My favorite sequence in the film, which I have to mention, is when the classic monsters first appear in Los monstruos. Doppelganger Blue Demon and his reanimated crew investigate Dr. Halder's castle, and this investigation becomes a de facto recruitment party: they find The Vampire just chilling in a crypt; happen to open a coffin with The Mummy sleeping; and Dr. Halder melts a wall behind which is The Cyclops. Las momias de Guanajuato is b-movie fare but many of the sequences are sublime; and it is well-worth seeking out. Extremely fun movies from cinema's greatest superhero, El Enmascarado de Plata, the multitude's hero, El Santo.

Fernando di Leo's I padroni della città (Mister Scarface) (1976)

Fernando di Leo's I padroni della città (Mister Scarface) (1976) is a wonderfully flippant production about two young thugs, each with a death wish, who take on and subsequently take down, a powerful and ruthless mob boss, Scarface (Jack Palance). (The original Italian title playfully and ironically is literally translated as The Owners of the City or The Rulers of the City.) Fernando di Leo takes on the typical cinematic reverence for the mafia and wins.
Tony (Harry Baer) works for Luigi (Edmund Purdom), a fearful, small-time crime boss, as a debt collector. Tony only comes home to sleep as he prefers to work the streets of Rome from his obnoxiously orange dune buggy. Tony's appearance is as unassuming as his attire, t-shirt and jeans, yet he is wholly proficient in his work. (He gives a mechanic a severe beatdown at his garage when he refuses to pay.) In addition to being proficient, Tony is completely under-appreciated and underestimated by Luigi. Luigi's suck-up and hulking thug, Peppe (Enzo Pulcrano) balks at Tony when asks for more lucrative work but eventually shuts his mouth when Tony kicks his ass. One evening at Luigi's gambling den (which he operates in addition to a pool hall), another young kid, Rick (Al Cliver) is playing cards at a table and is cheated by the dealer. Rick gets tossed out when he accuses the dealer of cheating. Soon after, Rick's boss, Scarface powerfully makes an entrance and begins gambling at the table. Scarface asks the house to accept a check for three million lira and the house accepts. Scarface splits, and his crew gives Rick a beatdown for getting cheated and boots him from the organization. Tony helps Rick recover. Scarface's check bounces, and Tony asks Luigi to let him enforce the debt. Luigi reluctantly accepts. Rick has a plan to help Tony.
"Keeping in mind all the exaggerations required in cinema," says di Leo, "I think I've made realistic films. Or putting aside my merit, more realistic than other films. Absolutely, all my characters are much more real. Much more real psychologically. Both petty criminals and big Mafia bosses. Even the film 'Mister Scarface' is very realistic. It's less known than my other films but that lifestyle, those ways, those robberies, muggings, characters...the life of crime is full of them. I will always claim that realism. Of course, in shootouts, instead of two shots, there are fifty. But guys, that's cinema."
I padroni della città again shows di Leo's overwhelming love for the outsiders at society's fringes. Those "petty criminals" who are often nameless victims in cinematic shootouts take center stage. Di Leo gives Tony and Rick and their compatriots the cinematic reverence reserved for upper-echelon Mafioso types with a loving eye to detail. One of di Leo's signature characters appears, the tramp, a Falstaffian, witty character who provides both humor and commentary in the form of Napoli, portrayed by Vittorio Caprioli. Caprioli's Napoli breathes life into this culture: he was born a small-time hustler and still is. Napoli is a survivor, perhaps because he adheres to an old code of friendship, loyalty, and honor. His humorous commentary is often spot-on, but few, especially Tony and Rick, are listening. It is unsurprising when Purdom's Luigi is missing (supposedly gone into hiding) and Peppe assumes power that Napoli is the lone dissenter among the crew.
In a brilliant street sequence, Tony goes to collect a debt in a small neighborhood from an old geezer holed up with his favorite prostitute. The old geezer plays dumb, and Tony cuts him a break to collect later in the day. Back at his dune buggy, the kids are playing in and around it. Tony makes a few jokes with the children and has enough time to notice the old geezer has summoned some buddies to attack Tony and steal his money. Tony handles the thugs quite easily. Watching the children, wide-eyed and curious, cheer on Tony after his battle is a fantastic touch. Di Leo tops it by having Tony pay a visit to the prostitute before exiting. In super-cool fashion, "maybe later," she says.
I padroni della città is by far not a romantic portrayal. When Tony is beating the garage mechanic at the beginning, despite the fact that Tony's cracking jokes, it is fairly disturbing to watch him severely beat the man. Tony and Rick often get the upper hand on Palance's Scarface, but Palance's character is never portrayed as a buffoon. Jack Palance comes off as extremely cold, calculated, and violent. Di Leo shares this anecdote about him: "I had an argument with Palance. He was important in cinema, he was cinema. I asked him not to look his co-stars in the eye when he was talking to them. In Southern Italy it is a sign of disrespect. It's like saying you're much lower than I. But he just couldn't get that through his head. I had to argue with him because he wouldn't stop it. He'd say: 'You wanted Jack Palance, I know what I'm doing.' No! Much later, after it was released he once came up and broke a pipe in half. I decided to give him two, I showed him the material and that's when a real actor understands. He realized I'd helped him grow, I'd improved him. (gestures hat removal) Chapeau."
If the plot of I padroni della città seems incredulous, that two impulsive, wise-cracking street thugs could topple a large mafia organization, neither Tony nor Rick nor, especially, di Leo cares. Cliver's Rick is motivated by a single desire, revenge, and willing to die for it. During the film's incredible and violent finale at the slaughterhouse, Rick gives Tony and Napoli an opportunity to exit before Scarface and company arrive. Both Tony and Napoli show their true colors: Tony's carefree and impulsive, and the violence before him isn't a problem. Napoli will stand by his friends (and make a few jokes along the way). I padroni della città is a rich portrait of societal and cinematic outsiders in playful, flippant di Leo fashion.

The Italian Raro DVD is essential, not only for picture quality (non-anamorphic widescreen with crisp print) but its supplements. There's an interview included with Di Leo (from where his quotes above are taken as are any objective facts here), Al Cliver, and others. Cliver shares some wonderful memories and anecdotes while making I padroni della città. I sometimes put in the DVD and let the menu screen run as Luis Enrique Bacalov's score plays over. It's a minimal and rhythmic score and among one of my favorites from the composer. The DVD includes the English dub which is precious for Palance dubs himself and also includes the Italian audio with English subtitles which is also essential.