Countess Irina Karlstein (Lina Romay) is a mute, sex-crazed vampire who mostly roams around wearing boots, a belt, and a black cape while hunting for new victims. During the day, she dons a sheer dress and moves among us like an ordinary human.
Jesús Franco delivers an erotic vampire film from the experimental 1970s. Franco has directed a good number of both pornographic and horror films in his lifetime. This is one of those films where he blends the two genres into an unabashed hybrid.
The film, however, has virtually no plot. Franco attempts to inject some narrative elements here and there, including a bit of detective work—where he himself plays Dr. Roberts, who investigates the murders. This investigation leads nowhere and is, in essence, complete nonsense. What we are left with is a pseudo-plot that lasts about five minutes, along with some bizarrely poetic dialogue that lacks any logical coherence. The rest of the film consists of Lina Romay caressing either her own body or someone else’s.
The worst part of the movie is that it feels as if someone put it on slow motion—everything drags on endlessly. No matter what happens, it unfolds at a sluggish pace. If a character moves from one place to another, it takes several minutes. The sex scenes, unsurprisingly, are lengthy, as is often the case in pornographic films, but Franco has a serious problem here. He is so obsessed with zooming in and out that the camera constantly jumps around, often going out of focus. This issue applies to the entire film, not just the sex scenes. Additionally, the scenes are shot with only one camera, and instead of cutting between angles, the cameraman simply moves around while aggressively zooming in and out. So, not only does this film fail as a horror movie, but it fares even worse as a pornographic film. It should also be noted that this is 1970s softcore, with the most explicit moment being a spread-legged Lina Romay masturbating.
The film’s soundtrack consists of dreamy jazz, with the same melody recurring over and over. By the halfway point, I was so tired of hearing it that I felt slightly nauseated and was tempted to hit the mute button on my remote. The score was composed by Franco’s frequent collaborator Daniel White, who often provided music for his films. A shame, really, as jazz rarely works well in horror movies.
Determining the definitive version of this film is difficult since it has been released under multiple titles in various editions. However, Franco essentially created two versions: a pornographic cut where Countess Irina kills her victims via oral sex and a more traditional vampire version where she drains blood from their necks. Regardless of which version you choose, you’re in for 100 (or fewer, in some cuts) minutes of sleep-inducing cinema.
About The Author
