In his first film, director Jean Rollin is a unique blend of a crazed madcap artist and an exploitative sex fiend. He composes images so striking that I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen AND he knows how to get anyone in the cast out of their clothes at any time. Works for me. I was hooked into this film even when the story lost me and I wasn’t sure what was happening.
Rollin’s world of vampire women is filled with gorgeous, alabaster-skinned brunettes who all sorta blend together. I got the characters mixed up at times. Maybe I’m just dumb (a strong possibility), but I do suspect SOME intention there, because for the vampire queen Rollin cast a black actress (Jacqueline Sieger, giving her all with frosty glares, fangs and frequent toplessness in her only film), who instantly stands out in a role that’s supposed to stand out.
This is a dream-like film. It’s strange and unpredictable. The score is full of clattering free jazz and mercilessly abused violins (the SOUND of this film is chaos). Nothing here is normal and Rollin is okay with confusing us. It’s a vampire story that doesn’t care about the rules. Rollin’s vampires can walk around in the sun and touch a crucifix just fine. These vamps also don’t require a stake to the heart to die; you can just shoot ’em.
The story is told in two parts. In the first part, a do-gooder psychologist and two companions show up in a small French village to help four sisters, shut-ins in a crumbling old house, who they believe are being gaslighted into thinking that they’re vampires.
Then the second part, which starts up complete with a fresh credits sequence (even though most everybody from the first part is all back), goes deeper into the film’s weird vampire underground. We meet a corrupt doctor and even more fetching brunettes. We see a blood ritual resurrection, lots more nudity and a truly strange climax set on a theater stage.
This is one of those go-for-broke debut films. Rollin makes this movie like he’s never going to get to make another one so he assaults you good and hard while he can. He plays with deep focus and sometimes moves his camera at a speed-freak rhythm. This is scandalous (for 1968) and kinetic and it gets everything that it can out of its small budget.
Even if this doesn’t always make sense, it’s ferocious and handmade and full of sweat and love. I think it’s great.