I sometimes wonder what Jess Franco was like when he wasn't shooting a film. I imagine him like a caged animal, sweating, irascible and subconsciously reaching for a camera. He probably wasn't like that at all, but by his own admission, film-making is when he felt most alive. By the time of 'Vampire Blues', his collaboration with One Shot Productions had ensured that any pretence at commerciality was long deemed unnecessary.
And so we open with a stuttering camera taking in the sumptuous seaside delights of Madrid, where a young woman Rachel Crosby (Rachel Sheppard, billed rather generously as a teenager on the DVD packaging) enjoying solitary days of sight-seeing and sunbathing. Her driftings into sleep are interrupted by visions of a vampire woman. When we first see this woman, she is the only splash of colour in an otherwise sepia scene. Often accompanied by a Rocky Horror-style soundtrack, Countess Irina von Murnau cuts a curious figure (she even gets to misquote 1931's Dracula: "The children of the night, what beautiful music they play."). The actress Analia Ivars, is billed in the opening credits – as is everyone – without a space between her names, which lead me to read her name as Anal Iaivars, but that may just be me. Her eventual fate is shocking, and brings back memories of Franco's predilection for sexual torture.
Amidst blotchy and distracting video effects that would have been innovative twenty years before, it is impossible to ignore how this once again recycles themes and moments from earlier Franco films. I won't list them.
It is good to see a cigarette smoking Franco cameoing as a market trader, and Lina Romay as an extravagant gypsy fortune teller Marga. As events roll on, Crosby becomes simply a pawn between the Countess and the flamboyant gypsy.
As a whole this drifts from being deeply monotonous to effectively dream-like. The sight of shaven women of a certain age indulging in protracted foreplay shot on video is an acquired taste, even for fans of Franco's films, which are an acquired taste to begin with. This definitely paves the way for modern day film-makers like Chris Alexander, who have extolled the virtues of micro-budget project (even his star Shauna Henry looks like Rachel Sheppard, although that is probably coincidental).
Enjoying a later Franco film despite the monotonous sex scenes is like enjoying a sponge pudding despite the sponge, but although this is far from my favourite, it still contains moments that sparkle.
And so we open with a stuttering camera taking in the sumptuous seaside delights of Madrid, where a young woman Rachel Crosby (Rachel Sheppard, billed rather generously as a teenager on the DVD packaging) enjoying solitary days of sight-seeing and sunbathing. Her driftings into sleep are interrupted by visions of a vampire woman. When we first see this woman, she is the only splash of colour in an otherwise sepia scene. Often accompanied by a Rocky Horror-style soundtrack, Countess Irina von Murnau cuts a curious figure (she even gets to misquote 1931's Dracula: "The children of the night, what beautiful music they play."). The actress Analia Ivars, is billed in the opening credits – as is everyone – without a space between her names, which lead me to read her name as Anal Iaivars, but that may just be me. Her eventual fate is shocking, and brings back memories of Franco's predilection for sexual torture.
Amidst blotchy and distracting video effects that would have been innovative twenty years before, it is impossible to ignore how this once again recycles themes and moments from earlier Franco films. I won't list them.
It is good to see a cigarette smoking Franco cameoing as a market trader, and Lina Romay as an extravagant gypsy fortune teller Marga. As events roll on, Crosby becomes simply a pawn between the Countess and the flamboyant gypsy.
As a whole this drifts from being deeply monotonous to effectively dream-like. The sight of shaven women of a certain age indulging in protracted foreplay shot on video is an acquired taste, even for fans of Franco's films, which are an acquired taste to begin with. This definitely paves the way for modern day film-makers like Chris Alexander, who have extolled the virtues of micro-budget project (even his star Shauna Henry looks like Rachel Sheppard, although that is probably coincidental).
Enjoying a later Franco film despite the monotonous sex scenes is like enjoying a sponge pudding despite the sponge, but although this is far from my favourite, it still contains moments that sparkle.