Paroxismus (1969)

... aka: Black Angel
... aka: Venus in Furs

Directed by:
Jesus Franco

Filmed in Italy, Spain and Turkey with a multitude of investors each seeming to want something different, the genesis of this movie began with a conversation Franco had with jazz trumpeter Chet Baker one evening in a Paris nightclub. Baker had told the director that once you're in the zone while performing it's almost as if you've left reality: a three-minute solo can seem like it lasts for an eternity as your whole life and all your desires flash before you. For anyone who's played a musical instrument for years, getting lost in the music isn't a difficult concept to grasp. The trumpet, in particular - which requires mastery of breath control and the ability to focus through a haze of light-headedness - is an instrument especially in key with withdrawal and fantasy. From that basic concept, Franco came up with a tale about an aged black musician who starts a unreal love affair with a beautiful white woman who's only a figment of his imagination. Writing the first treatment with Harry Alan Towers (titled "Black Angel"), Franco soon got word that the producers refused to do a movie featuring a romance between a black man and white woman. However, a reverse relationship was perfectly fine with them. From there, the script was retooled to feature a white musician (whom Franco partially based on Baker) with a black 'real life' lover and a white dream lover.

Given a short list of actors for the lead, Franco eventually settled on James Darren because he liked him on the TV series The Time Tunnel and he had experience playing the trumpet. Instead of the story he'd already planned and penned, AIP then insisted Franco adapt the novel "Venus in Furs" by Leopold van Sacher-Masoch. He said sure thing and went about shooting the retooled script as planned anyway, throwing in a few shots of star Maria Rohm in a fur coat to please them and for use on the poster and advertising materials. The end result - for better or worse - was Venus in Furs. It's a slow, ponderous little fantasy that induces wonder and sleep in about equal measure: the very definition of uneven. And apparently a pretty polarizing one. One of Franco's most-watched endeavors, the reviews tend to be either glowingly (IMO, overly) positive or completely (IMO, unfairly) scathing. The truth - as with many other things - lies somewhere in the middle of the two extremes. There are elements of brilliance here, but they've been laced into an otherwise tedious film. So given the obstacles he faced to even get this made, Franco hasn't quite made lemonade from lemons. He's made lemonade from a frozen concentrated tube of lemon-flavored juice drink.

Darren is sullen Jimmy Logan, a man who lives for his music: "A guy like me without a horn is like, well, a man without words." He unearths his trumpet from under the sand on an Istanbul beach before pulling the corpse of a dead but still beautiful young woman - Wanda Reed (Rohm) - out of the Black Sea. He recognizes her from a party he played at not long ago. There, a trio of kinky jet setters; millionaire playboy Ahmed Kortobawi (Klaus Kinski), art dealer Percival Kapp (Dennis Price) and fashion photographer Olga (Margaret Lee), had gotten together to rape and murder the poor girl. Feeling somehow connected to Wanda, Jimmy decides to escape to Rio de Janiero during Carnivale. He's not even sure why he decided to flee in the first place, uttering the prophetic words "How can you run from a dead person unless you're dead yourself?" While getting romantically involved with patient and understanding singer Rita (Barbara McNair), Jimmy is haunted by visions of Wanda, who soon becomes his lover and tells him she doesn't even know who she is. She does however know that she has a murder to avenge. Her own.

Much of this is imaginatively presented in the director's usual style with sometimes novel use of out-of-focus shots and, most especially, several wonderful slow motion sequences utilizing a grainier film stock. The scenes bookmarking the film on the beach in Istanbul are especially haunting. The jazzy soundtrack (much by Manfred Mann, who also can be seen performing in the film) alternates between eerie and grating: Every time Wanda kills one of her murderers the soundtrack screams out "Venus in furs will be smilin'!" over and over again. Kitschy! There's almost no narrative thrust and very little dialogue, just lots of cryptic narration from the lead actor. Ultimately, the director's refusal to humanize most of the characters results in one of those "And I'm supposed to care about all this, because...?" type of feelings, though this seems like the kind of movie that might grow on one with repeat viewings. Rohm (fast becoming one of my favorite Euro actresses from this era) and Kinski both have the look and natural charisma to pull off their blank, enigmatic roles, though the other actors are less successful.

In an interview on the DVD, Franco himself doesn't seem completely pleased with how the film turned out, and says it was reedited in a "gratuitous" way after he'd finished his final cut. Not to be confused with at least two other movies with the same title - Joseph Marzano's Venus in Furs (1967) and Massimo Dallamano's Devil in the Flesh (1969) aka Venus in Furs - released around the same time. It was originally rated X, but would easily be an R today.

★★1/2

Dorian Gray (1970)

...aka: Bildnis des Dorian Gray, Das
...aka: Dio chiamoto Dorian, Il

...aka: Evils of Dorian Gray, The

...aka: Portrait of Dorian Gray, The

...aka: Secret of Dorian Gray, The

Directed by:

Massimo Dallamano

Oscar Wilde's famous allegorical novel "The Picture of Dorian Gray," which was first published in 1890, was a key adapted literary piece of the silent film era. There were versions of it made in 1910, 1913, 1915 (one filmed in the US, the other in Russia), 1916, 1917 and 1918 (which featured a young Bela Lugosi). Of those, only the the 1916 version (directed by Fred W. Durrant and starring Henry Victor) remains. What most rightfully consider the definitive screen version of the tale came in 1945. Directed by Albert Lewin for MGM, it starred Hurd Hattfield as Dorian, featured scene-stealing work from George Sanders and Angela Lansbury and was gorgeously photographed by Harry Stradling Sr., who received a well-deserved Academy Award for his work. The tale then layed dormant for about twenty-five years until it was resurrected once again by producers Harry Alan Towers and Samuel Z. Arkoff, two pioneering forces in the exploitation business. They tapped Italian-born Massimo Dallamano (who'd go on to make the popular giallo WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO SOLANGE? a year later) to direct and co-write the film, and brought along a cast of familiar faces for a version so over-the-top trashy that it was critically annihilated upon release.

Aesthetically speaking, Helmut Berger was an ideal casting choice as Dorian, the man who sells his soul for eternal youth and beauty. Blonde, blue-eyed Berger is about as non-threateningly pretty as any man can be, which is crucial here because his allure is supposed to captivate men and women alike. His Dorian begins as a naive, well-meaning sort who has simplistic views on everything but quickly becomes victim to his own ego. Herbert Lom, surprisingly great in his off-beat role, co-stars as Henry Wotton; here an intelligent, gay, wealthy, worldly art collecter who cleverly manipulates those around him to get exactly what he wants. He has his eye on Dorian; slowly and methodically chipping away at his flimsy, half-formed ideals about life and love, and ensuring Dorian's budding relationship with virginal young actress Sybil Vane (Marie Liljedahl) stops before it really has a chance to begin.

Henry scares Dorian with his comments about aging ("One day you'll be old, wrinkled and ugly... We degenerate into hideous puppets."), encourages Dorian to be sexually experimental, not tie himself down, accompany him to parties where he can hobnob with filthy rich swingers and use his good looks to get whatever he wants. Henry's comments have also prompted Dorian to swear away his soul for eternal youth by a portrait his painter friend Basil Hallward (Richard Todd) has just made of him. Sybil is hit and killed by a car and once Dorian is exposed to the new jetset lifestyle and its kinky players, he's hooked and things begin spiralling out of control. Just as in most of the other adaptations of the story, Dorian remains his youthful self throughout the years as his painting tells of his true age.

Some have brushed this off as a silly piece of soft-core Euro-porn and I'm not going to argue with that sentiment. However, I have to say that I quite enjoyed the amped-up sexual compotent of this film and the places the director goes. The set-ups for the skin scenes, which range from innocent and sexy to seedy and discomforting, are sometimes so gloriously campy that you can't help but laugh. During one scene, Berger bends a wealthy old bat (Isa Miranda) over in a stable and has anal sex with her right next to a horse! My favorite bit though has to be when Berger (immediately after having sex with two different women) hops in the shower, drops the soap and a hand is shown grabbing it off the floor, only to reveal it's a heavily rouged/ mascara-wearing Lom using the opportunity to hop into the shower with him! And yes, Dorian does reciprocate.

One of Dorian's other lovers is Henry's equally predatory sister Gwendolyn (Maragaret Lee), who is bisexual and likes to be smacked around with a belt. Dorian also becomes an adult film star (!), has sex with a muscular black dude in a public toilet and attends a candlelit orgy at "The House of Pleasure," among other things. There's a cabaret musical number with a drag queen stripper, a nightclub called "The Black Cock" and sex scenes on a theater stage, in a field, on a yacht and on a beach. The porno director who Dorian works for is, interestingly enough, played by a black actress (Beryl Cunningham). While there is plenty of nudity, some of the sex is done subtlely or implied, and many of the scenes are strangely obscured when the camera dips behind tree branches, potted plants and curtains. The slapdash sexuality in this movie was unexpected (certainly pretty risque for the time) and actually kind of wonderful.

Visually, there are some very nice touches here. The film opens with an intriguing shot of bloody hands stretched out in front of the camera as it travels down stairs up to a kitchen sink followed by another elaborate camera shot tracking through a house with swank 70s decor. Dallamano also seems to have a way of making certain colors literally jump out of the screen at you, such as when Dorian takes his very red car on a drive through the lush green countryside. The settings are nice, the costuming is really interesting and they even throw in several disco scenes for us to snicker at.

Co-stars include Renato Romano as Dorian's former college friend, Maria Rohm (who is pitifully wasted here) as his wife, Eleonora Rossi Drago as a swinger and Stewart Black as Sybil's over-protective brother, who likely has incestuous designs on her and blames Dorian for her death. Liljedahl also gets to return after her death playing a woman named Gladys, who's a dead ringer for Sybil. It was filmed in London with Italian and West German backing. A cut VHS version was released here in America through Republic Pictures, but there's no official DVD for this one. The version I saw ran 98 minutes and uses the alt. title THE SECRET OF DORIAN GRAY (though it was packaged as the title I have listed here).

"Today, beauty is more important than genius." Indeed.

★★1/2

Il trono di fuoco (1970)

... aka: Bloody Judge, The

... aka: Der Hexentöter von Blackmoor, Der

... aka: Night of the Blood Monster

... aka: Throne of the Blood Monster

... aka: Trial of the Witches

... aka: Witch Killer of Broadmoor

... aka: Witches' Trial

Directed by:
"J. Frank Manera" (Jesus Franco)

With the success of WITCHFINDER GENERAL (1968) came the obligatory series of copycat films, each with a period setting and all dealing with witch hunting. This premise carries with it a chance to explore themes like religious hypocrisy, mass hysteria spreading around like disease in small communities and general abuse of power, but most of these films were actually more interest in the general abuse of women. Yep, usually completely innocent and naked or half-naked ladies being slapped with the scarlet "W" and then dragged into some dungeon where they're chained up, shackled down or thrown into a cell and await prolonged torture and sometimes death. There was Mark of the Devil (1970) and its 1972 sequel, CRY OF THE BANSHEE (1970), THE DEMONS (1973) and others, plus this one from the prolific Jesus Franco, who used the alias "J. Frank Manera" for the film. Set in 1685 England, the film follows the reign of terror orchestrated by hateful, self-serving, power-mad Judge Lord Jeffreys (Christopher Lee), who lives a lavish lifestyle, tries to get sexual favors from "witches," uses his position for wealth and political gain and does other awful things all in the name of the Lord.

As the film opens, a man suspected of being a sorcerer is murdered and his lover, Alicia Gray (Margaret Lee), is captured. She's brought to trial, found "guilty by association" of practicing witchcraft and promptly taken to a torture chamber where she's stretched on a rack, slapped, sliced with a blade and has a "W" burnt into her chest by chief torturer Jack Ketch (Howard Vernon, dressed in a tight, full-bodied one-piece black outfit with a hood!), a man who really seems to enjoy his work. Alicia's sister Mary (Maria Rohm) goes to Jeffreys and pleads for her sister's life. He propositions her for sex. She refuses, which leads to her sister being found guilty and getting burned at the stake. Now I don't know about you, but I think if I were in Mary's shoes, I'd be willing to give Mr. Lee the best five minutes of his life if he'd be willing to spare my sibling's life. Hell, I might even make him pancakes in the morning.

A devastated Mary goes to see blind psychic Mother Rosa (Maria Schell), who predicts she'll go through some turmoil but will arise triumphant in the end. Lord Wessex (Leo Genn), an adversary of Jeffreys, has a son named Harry Sefton (Hans Hass, Jr.) who's a member of a rebel army and becomes romantically involved with Mary. Sadistic bailiff Satchel (Milo Quesada) attempts to rape Mary, but she pushes his face into a fireplace before escaping. To get revenge, a now-facially scarred Satchel murders Harry's best friend Barnaby ("Peter Martell"/Pietro Martellanza) and then goes around kidnapping innocent women; including Mary and some woman named Sally (Diana Lorys), who are dragged back to Jeffreys for more torture "fun."

It's pretty elaborate for a Franco film. There's even a lengthy battlefield sequence with men on horseback fighting with lances, rifles and canons, lots of stunt work, explosions and tumbling horses. However, Franco fans aren't likely to place this very high on their list of favorites because of its anonymous, stilted direction. Lee fans are also likely to be disappointed. Despite the title and Lee's star billing, his character isn't the centerpiece of the film and the one-note role is far too rigid to be the least bit memorable. The pacing is slow, the torture scenes are tedious, the period detail is sufficient yet unimpressive and the numerous political discussions are highly confusing. Bruno Nicolai contributes a decent music score and Manuel Merino does a fair job shooting it, but otherwise there's not too much to recommend here. The art direction and set decoration are from "George O. Brown" (who is better known as actor Jack Taylor).

The version I saw was the 90 minute cut (with the on-screen title The Bloody Judge), which is missing quite a bit of footage. 13 minutes, in fact. Apparently, what I missed was more graphic full frontal nudity, a lesbian scene and a few prolonged moments of torture. In other words, nothing that would have really saved this film from mediocrity. Harry Alan Towers produced and wrote (using the alias "Peter Welbeck" for the latter), and it was a co-production between Italy, Liechtenstein, Spain and West Germany.

★★

Bestia uccide a sangue freddo, La (1971)

...aka: Asylum Erotica

...aka: Beast Kills in Cold Blood, The

...aka: Clinic of Shadows, The

...aka: Cold-Blooded Beast, The

Directed by:

Fernando Di Leo

The 'hotel' of the title is actually a secluded country 'loony bin' where rich men drop off their inexplicably beautiful and unhinged wives. It is never made quite clear, but you get the strong impression that the husbands want rid of these women... permanently! How else can you explain a hospital staff so inept they spend more time in the front yard playing croquet than dealing with the patients? Or the fact that a blonde whack-job can attempt to club a doctor over the head with a log and never be restrained or reprimanded? Or a front lobby filled with Medieval torture weapons that anyone can pick up at any given time? A cloaked killer (seen only in shadow until the end) makes full use of the 'tools' and proceeds to whack off a head with a scythe, chop up a body with an axe, shoot an arrow through a neck and more. While this film may be stretching for the surreal (and I'm really stretching by even suggesting that), and there are a few interesting segments, it still is likely to be a big disappointment to many horror fans. Those looking for female nudity or soft-core porn, however, may want to give it a look. Klaus Kinski has very little to do here as Dr. Francis Clay. He basically spends time sitting around and talking to pouty-lipped recovering patient Cheryl Hume (Margaret Lee). But Kinski's the type of actor who could sit there clipping his toenails and still be a great red herring in films like this. Unfortunately, the script relies less on character quirks to make the actor seem like a suspect than it does on his similar hair-style. Oh well, let's forget about Klaus for a minute...

It is actually Rosalba Neri who has the film's most interesting role and gives the best performance, and she is why this movie isn't a total washout. Handed a throwaway super-slut character (an extreme nymphomaniac named Anne Palmieri), Neri refuses to walk through her role like most of the rest of the cast and injects her character with the proper air of desperation. One of the very best scenes in the film has her writhing in the shower, trying to keep her feverish sexual instincts in check. See, Anne is in such bad shape, she can't even shower without being distracted by thoughts of sex. Wearing an amazing black outfit (which rivals Erika Blanc's in THE DEVIL'S NIGHTMARE), she tries to sneak off to have sex with the groundskeeper several times, then tries to seduce two orderlies at once. She gets one guy in the sack... errr, greenhouse (her recklessness almost making her an early victim), then ends up slapping the guy in the face because he won't let her stay the night! Alas, Ms. Neri dies earlier than she should and the film comes to a halt without her energy and professionalism.

John Karlsen (BLACK SUNDAY) plays another clinic doctor and Monica Strebel is a lesbian nurse who seduces a young black woman (Jane Garret, who is about as animated as a rock throughout) by massaging her ass, bathing her and dirty dancing to some God awful Euro-pop song. The horror sequences are nothing great (unless you shiver at the thought of ketchup-smeared murders), but the director wears out the zoom lens when it comes to exposing female flesh in extreme close-up. In fact, there are several pretty graphic female masturbation sequences that make this one briefly cross into hard X-rated territory. One even features Ms. Neri. Since the heavy stuff is done in a solitary close-up, it's most likely another actress doing it, but you never can tell.

Original publicity tried to gain an audience by comparing the silly goings-on in this one to the Richard Speck killings! The Shriek Show SLAUGHTER HOTEL DVD release (which uses a print with the title THE COLD-BLOODED BEAST) is a pretty complete version of the film; a good-looking print with most of the nudity, sex and gore intact. It is very well photographed. Unfortunately, there's a major sound problem toward the end where the dialogue is not matched up with the action. Also on the disc is a brief interview with the director, who himself says this film is definitely nothing special but still appreciates the cult following it has. He also harps on the beauty (and figure) of Neri and claims Kinski (despite a difficult reputation) gave him no problems whatsoever and, in fact, ended up giving the entire crew a big tip when he finished filming his scenes!

★1/2