By Chris Hyde
June 10, 2003
In the grand spirit of a politically correct world where every subculture
gets a celebratory period of its own, BOP hereby declares this Lesbian
Vampire Week.
It's been an incredible year in DVD for nearly all areas of film, but in
the cult and horror space of late the action has been particularly
furious. One of the leading reasons for this increase in activity is Bill
Lustig's Blue
Underground label, an outfit that specializes in bringing all sorts of
genre films into the digital format. Lustig himself has directed and
produced this sort of film in the past (such as the 1980 slasher Maniac),
and it's obvious from the care he lavishes on his product that this is a
man who truly loves movies of an outré ilk. For perfect examples,
one need look no farther than the beautiful new versions of a couple
classic Sapphic seventies bloodsucker tales that hit the shelves at the end
of May.
First of these is the 1971 Daughters of Darkness, an artsy and stylish take
on the vampire legend. Delphine Seyrig, an actress who also appeared in
movies by people like Alain Resnais and Luis Buñuel, plays a Hungarian
Countess making the rounds of off-season European towns with the
companionship of her gorgeous young charge Ilona (Andrea Rau). The two are
not simply the idle rich that they appear, however, with the concierge even
going so far as to recall the Countess having stayed at the hotel nearly 40
years before -- though to his eyes it appears she hasn't aged even a
day. While at the hotel, this mysterious pair encounters a couple of young
newlyweds (John Karlen and Danielle Ouimet), and the Countess dedicates
herself to snaring them in her wicked web.
The movie is done in a slow and serious manner, and this artistic choice
lends a languidly pretentious air to the proceedings. Atmospheric and
existential, the film moves at a tempered pace that helps draw the audience
into the sexy violence of the story. This may mean that if you prefer your
terror a little more on the action-packed side that the outing may
overwhelm you with its air of ennui; but if you're one who doesn't mind
putting up with a bit of affected European attitude then the rewards are
ultimately great. Tight plotting is also certainly not an a prime concern
here, but the character-driven nature of the story adds to its interest and
keeps the psychological and sexual tension of the film ratcheted up at very
high levels until its ultimate conclusion.
Cinematically, then, a Daughters of Darkness DVD could be justified just on
the merits of the movie itself. But Blue Underground releases rarely stop
after providing you with just a film alone, and this one is no
exception. Bursting with extras, this special edition provides plenty of
nice additional features that add to the enjoyment of this sexy
shocker. Two commentary tracks are provided here, one voiced by director
Harry Kummel and the other by journalist David Del Valle with star John
Karlen. Also included is a wonderful contemporary interview with Andrea
Rau, wherein she talks about her experiences with the film and briefly
discusses her career in general. Rounding out this excellent package is a
theatrical trailer, some radio spots and an extensive poster and stills
gallery, all of which combine with the film to make this entire edition a
valuable and enticing one.
You'd think a single release of the caliber of Daughters of Darkness would
be enough to satisfy the rabid hordes of girl-girl vampire lovers, but
Lustig and company decided to pile on at the end of May by resurrecting
another classic entrant in the genre. Surprisingly, this movie turns out
to be even better than the first as Vampyres offers up some cheap soft porn
thrills in addition to its creepy atmospherics and disturbingly blood-soaked
scenes of orgiastic writhing. In this one, the exotic Marianne
Morris lives in a crumbling English manor with her beautiful companion
Anulka Dzuibinska (Playboy Playmate of the Month May 1973). They often go
out at dusk to hitchhike and thereby lure unsuspecting bachelors back to
their gothic domicile for sex and sustenance. One such victim is the
film's major protagonist Ted (Murray Brown), who must be so good in bed
that Ms. Morris decides to keep him around for a couple extra nights of fun
before draining him completely dry. Also in the mix here are a young
couple that have the misfortune of parking their camper next door to where
the vampires have set up shop, which threatens to turn their trip into the
English countryside from an innocent fishing and painting excursion into a
horrifying nightmare.
Given the low budget nature of this film (and in fact the extras include
stills of a scene that was never completed mainly due to lack of money),
the production values are of a surprisingly high quality. The movie is
exceptionally well cast, the interior and exterior settings brim with a
gloomy air, and the story is both engaging and somewhat
unpredictable. Other portions of film production that are often overlooked
with regards to exploitation fare are handled in this case with great care;
aspects of the movie such as the camerawork and lighting are capably done
and never call attention to themselves. Additionally, while the two
principal actresses were chosen more for their natural attractions than
their dramatic abilities, their scenes together are charged with a tension
that helps carry the film far beyond its more tawdry qualities.
Yet again, Blue Underground goes above and beyond to enhance their DVD
edition of Vampyres with a passel of extras that add incredible value on
top of the already excellent film. As usual, the transfer itself looks just
pristine, and the cut here restores all the various footage that had been
excised from certain other releases of this movie. There's also the
aforementioned batch of stills of the lost caravan scene, a gallery of even
more photographs, a short biographical entry on the director, a selection
of modeling shots by Anulka, the international and US versions of the
movie's trailer, and a print essay by film critic Tim Greaves. But that's
not all: included as well is a brilliant contemporary interview with both
of the vampire starlets that contains some great insights into the film's
history and shows also that both retain their stunning beauty right up to
the present day. The final extra offered with this DVD is a fantastic and
entertaining commentary with producer Brian Smedley-Aston and director Jose
Ramon Larraz, which is worth listening to not only for the information
provided but also for the director's hilariously earthy and not always
circumspect comments on the production and its cast.
With these two spectacular releases from the 1970s, Blue Underground has
successfully raised from the dead two high quality examples from film's
long history of prurient exercises in feminine vampiric terror. Both
movies are well worth the revival due to the high grade of the original,
but the care with which their reissue has been handled truly makes each
edition a fitting tribute to its celluloid counterpart. These DVD releases
are not only top notch in quality but are additionally quite inexpensively
priced, making both selections a necessary pickup for anyone who considers
themselves an aficionado of films imbrued with Sapphic bloodlust and
70s-style abandon. Each also has very different approaches in style
and substance, so instead of being redundant the dual releases complement
each other perfectly -- which makes their simultaneous release all the more
intelligent on the part of Mr. Lustig and his cohorts. With each successive
release it seems that this ex-Anchor Bay employee helps to add to the
wealth of excellent choices now available to the discerning classic horror
fan in the digital format, and in looking at the company's release schedule,
it appears that this well won't run dry for some time to come. So this
writer's advice is to check these two offerings out immediately and then to
keep your bloodshot eyes peeled for what's to come from this outfit; given
their track record thus far in 2003 the future should be bringing some top
notch entertainments from the far side of film.