Monday, August 26, 2013
The term blood is to be taken literally with this film as a hidden family curse is exposed when daddy Escodero's dying last wish to have his mansion estate burned to the ground is pronounced upon his heirs. With protestations from his son Eduardo the progenitor is forced to explain his seemingly selfish act by letting his son witness the spectacle of his vampire mother--who had been assumed dead for many years--being kept in a coffin, whipped and chained to a wall.
Short of killing the already shallow plot I'll just say that the curse is passed on from the mother to her offspring despite the valiant effort of the dying father. Is forbidden love the only way to thwart the curse? Egads, you'll see.
The first half of this movie ranks up there with my favorite vampire flicks before it devolves into Gone With the Wind Part Douche but a few scenes salvage it still. Especially the ones where three servant girls in black face are present and also one where, a priest realizing that a girl is in the process of changing into a vampire, states, and I paraphrase, "Satan is in this room. We are powerless." and then proceeds to flee with his attendants from the home.
Yes, it's B-movie schlock but the fuzzy framework, the dark setting and shoddy effects play right into my psychedelic sensibilities.
3 frenzied fangs.
PS... also, if you let the video player run after the end it will take you to director Gerardo De Leon's previous vampire effort The Blood Drinkers from 1966. Forgive the commercials since I couldn't find this picture anywhere else.
Posted by the at 10:55 AM
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Even though this movie was released in 1990 it sure the hell has an early '80s feel to it and seems rather dated. Which isn't really a deterrent so much as the fact that the movie is more plot-less than it is bad. Sure, a vengeful vampire trying to stop a poser mass-murderer posturing as one of the undead is a novel enough concept but the story isn't very cohesive outside of that and ambles along bumping into the plot on occasion. The part of the agent-reporter hired by the vampire is pretty much pointless other than to add another vagina into the mix. Well, and to provide some bogus irony at the end of the flick.
Otherwise, girls are falling all over the real vampire, Michael Fury, despite his stiffer than death persona, while an amateur auteur steals the show and slashes away in secret perversion. That is, Wings Hauer was quite excellent in the movie despite its shoddiness. I can't say that it was a total failure because although the movie was rather predictable in its results, the approach wasn't.
Posted by the at 12:50 AM
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
If the scribes Allen Ginsberg and Charles Bukowski taught us anything it's that there's a fine line between poetry and pornography. With most movies that I've seen by Jess Franco, he's proven to be the cinematic embodiment of a such a sentiment. This flick is no exception.
When a movie is called Erotikill it's no wonder that it should began with a naked vampiress walking towards the camera until she is right on top of the lens and blurring it out with her full pubic center. Yeah, you know the plot line here: a naked vampire sizzles and scorches the lives of those around her in a frenzy of sensual blood lust. There is telekinesis, sex, picturesque scenery, fuzzy-artsy screen shots, a little S&M and several encores of sex.
I like it! The narration and dialogue is a perfect accompaniment to the visual poetry and though the story barely leaves the sexploitation side of the mark it never fails to respectably meld art with smut into a cohesive melange.
I guess there's an unedited version called Female Vampire as well as an x-rated cut called Insatiable Lust which includes graphic fellatio. Cute, eh? I see why I can't find any newspaper articles on this one.
Posted by the at 8:38 PM
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Nudity within the first 2 minutes of a movie shall never be frowned upon at this venue and is almost a prerequisite in the 1970s brand of the vampire genre. But the sexploitation opening scene soon morphs into something more staid. It's as if a typical horror movie had been spliced together with a lost episode of Masterpiece Theater without warning or introduction. So mote it be.
The problem, or shall we call it the intrigue, of Baron Winnegar, the murdering count, is that his bloodless murders are disembodied endeavors for the first half of the movie that illicit about as much terror as a cornball love scene from Twilight. When Winnegar finally appears in the flesh the effect adds nothing in shock or scare value.
The film is well-acted but lacks the promised horribleness and sexiness. I'm not sure that's necessarily a negative but it certainly isn't a positive. Well... there's more boobs after the opening scene so I guess all's not lost. Despite the fact that the movie embed above abruptly ends at the 51:13 mark, well before it's official end.
Posted by the at 12:11 AM