Britt Nichols plays Luisa Karlstein who visits her terminally ill mother. Rather coldly, the rest of the family appears to have turned up simply to stand and watch as the ill old Baroness succumbs to death. With her dying breath, she tells her daughter of a family curse.
Even before this reveal, a number of ongoing, gruesome murders have been occurring. Nubile young women, often in a state of undress, have been spied upon and are then killed by what is clearly a female vampire.
As always for Jesus Franco films, such story-line as there is meanders greatly with protracted scenes of women in jeopardy, and is enlivened by ongoing scenes of soft-core sex - here, Karlstein reveals her lesbian tendencies in a number of scenes which have no bearing on the wafer-thin plot-line. This is usual for such films, as is the stunning leading lady - here, Nichols continues the tradition of delights such as Lina Romay and Soledad Miranda, but doesn't seem to have attracted the same level of attention. This may be because her appearance bolsters a film that is otherwise desperately reserved for Franco's style than a more general audience. Some time regular Anne Libert gives her usual effective and mesmerising performance as Karine.
Even the eroticism here is ... odd. There is a routine in which a 'dancer' (prior to her murder, of course) simply rolls around on the floor in a red lit nightclub. She is clearly performing an act (as opposed to suffering a fit). People watch in stony silence, she rolls around some more, smiling. Then, she stands up and they applaud! Why? It is only shocking because she wasn't escorted out of the place by medics. Where is the exotic eroticism of 'Vampyros Lesbos' or 'She Killed in Ecstasy?' Whilst hardly polished films themselves, they did nevertheless escape the drudgery that fuels each dialogue-heavy scene here.
A constant delight with Franco films is the juxtaposition of horror set in beautifully filmed, exotic sun-kissed locations. Such visual conflict often works, but not so much here, for what panoramic views we get of Portugal (where this is filmed) are rare and the footage is often used more than once.
Back to whatever passes as a story, and it appears that the undead Count Karlstein (Franco regular Howard Vernon, robbed of dialogue here) is in fact Dracula himself. He doesn't get to contribute a huge amount. In fact, his two scenes involve simply rising from his coffin, watched by a horrified Luisa, shortly before she too becomes a vampire. And yet, his wide-eyed somnambulism offers an interesting take on a more bestial Dracula - it's just a shame he hasn't more to do.
What begins as an interesting idea soon becomes choppy viewing, with one scene following another with little or no obvious cohesion or structure. Little effort is made to make any of the events entertaining or horrific or even particularly sexy. Among the points in its favour - we are treated to many brave close-ups of teeth baring fangs. Brave because, such close-ups invite scrutiny, but the fangs are very realistic - something the otherwise superior 'exploitation' film-maker Jean Rollin couldn't always get right.
Despite the flaws, I actually rate this quite highly because it is Franco at his ... Franco-ist! The mood is suitably strange and ethereal, and there is a sense of the unnerving, despite the lack of any obvious choices to make it so. The choice of locations, always one of Franco's greatest talents help immeasurably, and the musical score by Daniel White is, as always, terrific.
Even before this reveal, a number of ongoing, gruesome murders have been occurring. Nubile young women, often in a state of undress, have been spied upon and are then killed by what is clearly a female vampire.
As always for Jesus Franco films, such story-line as there is meanders greatly with protracted scenes of women in jeopardy, and is enlivened by ongoing scenes of soft-core sex - here, Karlstein reveals her lesbian tendencies in a number of scenes which have no bearing on the wafer-thin plot-line. This is usual for such films, as is the stunning leading lady - here, Nichols continues the tradition of delights such as Lina Romay and Soledad Miranda, but doesn't seem to have attracted the same level of attention. This may be because her appearance bolsters a film that is otherwise desperately reserved for Franco's style than a more general audience. Some time regular Anne Libert gives her usual effective and mesmerising performance as Karine.
Even the eroticism here is ... odd. There is a routine in which a 'dancer' (prior to her murder, of course) simply rolls around on the floor in a red lit nightclub. She is clearly performing an act (as opposed to suffering a fit). People watch in stony silence, she rolls around some more, smiling. Then, she stands up and they applaud! Why? It is only shocking because she wasn't escorted out of the place by medics. Where is the exotic eroticism of 'Vampyros Lesbos' or 'She Killed in Ecstasy?' Whilst hardly polished films themselves, they did nevertheless escape the drudgery that fuels each dialogue-heavy scene here.
A constant delight with Franco films is the juxtaposition of horror set in beautifully filmed, exotic sun-kissed locations. Such visual conflict often works, but not so much here, for what panoramic views we get of Portugal (where this is filmed) are rare and the footage is often used more than once.
Back to whatever passes as a story, and it appears that the undead Count Karlstein (Franco regular Howard Vernon, robbed of dialogue here) is in fact Dracula himself. He doesn't get to contribute a huge amount. In fact, his two scenes involve simply rising from his coffin, watched by a horrified Luisa, shortly before she too becomes a vampire. And yet, his wide-eyed somnambulism offers an interesting take on a more bestial Dracula - it's just a shame he hasn't more to do.
What begins as an interesting idea soon becomes choppy viewing, with one scene following another with little or no obvious cohesion or structure. Little effort is made to make any of the events entertaining or horrific or even particularly sexy. Among the points in its favour - we are treated to many brave close-ups of teeth baring fangs. Brave because, such close-ups invite scrutiny, but the fangs are very realistic - something the otherwise superior 'exploitation' film-maker Jean Rollin couldn't always get right.
Despite the flaws, I actually rate this quite highly because it is Franco at his ... Franco-ist! The mood is suitably strange and ethereal, and there is a sense of the unnerving, despite the lack of any obvious choices to make it so. The choice of locations, always one of Franco's greatest talents help immeasurably, and the musical score by Daniel White is, as always, terrific.