The Curse of the Vampire / La llamada del vampiro (1972)

José María Elorrieta’s Curse of the Vampire has been one of the harder Spanish vampire films for me to recall for some reason. I’ve watched it every few years since 2012, and every viewing would always feel like the first time. But I’m hoping that by reviewing it, it will finally stick for good. I’ve come to realize that its lengthy and diluted plot is likely to blame, but the lasting effects it does have are mostly thanks to it having some of the best vampire visuals, some of which have recently become my favorites. 

Following the intro/grabber scene, we are hit with a killer opening credits freezeframe visual of a bloody staked vampire, Margaret (Loreta Tovar), with spot-on eerie feminine vocalizing (shrieking) that really sets the tone and hits the spot for me. Despite being staked at the beginning, Margaret continually returns throughout the film to serve and deliver some top-quality lady vampire scenes. The rules here are that if the stake is removed, the vampire is good-as-new. Somehow, drowning in quicksand doesn’t take them out either.

 

The setting is mostly centered in the Baron von Rysselberg’s (Antonio Jimenez Escribano) castle, ruins, and surrounding village, which are cursed by a vampire affliction that is treated as mere superstition by some of the higher-ranking residents, despite the evidence. A never seen character, Dr Mersch, who was previously studying the local affliction, recently died and has been replaced by the very beautiful Dr. Greta Materlick (Diana Sorel) and her equally attractive nurse assistant Erica (Beatriz Elorrieta) to carry on the late doctor’s work. One night, they are summoned to the castle after the baron has fallen ill. Fearing his condition could worsen at any moment, the Baron’s son Karl (Nicholas Ney) requests Greta and Erica to stay at the castle indefinitely. To get another beautiful lady into the castle, Greta later sends a telegram to request the presence of her colleague Veronica (Inés Morales), a blood specialist.

 

On the night of the full moon, Karl transforms into a vampire (because that’s how it works here) and attacks Erica in her bed. Erica changes and is then summoned to the crypt through hypnotic voiceover by Margaret to pull the stake from her heart. The two nightgowned lady vampires then escape the castle to frolic in the night and use their seductive charms to accost the vulnerable. 

Erica’s disappearance doesn’t go unnoticed by Greta, as a search party is put together to draw the film to what I interpreted as two separate conclusions. The first conclusion ends up being underwhelming, but the wrap-up is saved by a second add-on batshit ending.

  

The Curse of the Vampire is rather appealing to me as a fan of Amando de Ossorio’s Fangs of the Living Dead / Malenka (1969) or any of the Klimovsky vampire films, but it also has several of its own nice touches. What I did always remember is the interesting meld of vampire rules with that of lycanthropy, in that the afflicted transform into full vampire mode on the night of the full moon. While in vampire mode, they all seem mentally attuned or bonded, in that if one gets harmed another will also sense it. They also telepathically communicate.

 

I didn’t quite realize this at first, but this film has to have the most Paul Naschy actresses I’ve ever seen in a film without Paul Naschy. There’s Diana Sorel from Assignment Terror, Beatriz Elorrieta from The Night of the Werewolf, Inés Morales from The Curse of The Devil and House of Psychotic Women, Loreta Tovar from Inquisition and Count Dracula’s Great Love, Susan Taff from Hunchback of the Morgue, and María Luisa Tovar from The Werewolf Versus the Vampire Woman and Dr. Jekyll vs. The Werewolf. 

 

The actor playing the Baron’s son Karl (Nicholas Ney) reminds me of (and looks a lot like) the sleazeball killer (played by Aramis Ney) from Elorrieta’s The Spector of Terror (1973). (OK, so obviously they are the same actor credited with a different first name.) He’s got that bad guy look down, and he does go all in, whether he’s sensually leading with an apple, using an Adam and Eve metaphor to tempt Dr. Greta Materlick, romantically bonding with either Margaret or Erica by the marsh, or preying on sleeping women when he is in full vampire mode on the night of the full moon.

 

I really dig the music (more so in the Spanish version, which has different music than the English dubbed version) and visual vibe after Erica turns when she is summoned to the cellar by Margaret, who needs someone to pull the stake from her heart (probably my favorite part). The two go on like playful lovers in white see-through flowing night gowns to roam and terrorize the day-for-night countryside, in dreamlike slow motion that you only see in Spanish vampire films of this ilk. Margaret and Erica soon seduce a man in the field and drink his blood mid-coitus (an honorable death, I assure you).

 

The Curse of the Vampire has a good setup, but it all slowly falls apart (as if that’s any reason to dislike it), but that Sadean nightmare (what-is-even-happening?) ending really does it for me. It feels like an extra ending was added in since we see several vampire characters get killed off in previous scenes only to be still standing again to participate in the extra closeout scene. They all magically come together for one last Sadean hurrah. It's almost like the filmmakers thought the first ending was underwhelming so they threw in a bit more experimental craziness to hopefully give viewers their money’s worth. It is worth sticking around for.

 

Like I said, this movie really serves up the aesthetic looks for fans of the atmospheric gothic vampire Eurohorror film (you know the kind). For me, this one always ends up feeling a bit longer than it really is, but despite some dullness at times, I’d say it is a rewarding experience for any Spanish vampire film fan willing to see it through. 

© At the Mansion of Madness

The Vampire Happening / Gebissen wird nur nachts - das Happening der Vampire (1971)

“To have Clarimonde was to have twenty mistresses; ay to possess all women: so mobile, so varied of aspect, so fresh in new charms was she all in herself – a very chameleon of a woman, in sooth.” – Theophile Gautier 

I came across The Vampire Happening originally, about ten years ago, because I was interested in seeing more films made by Aquila Film Enterprises, the same company that produced one of my all-time favorite Jess Franco films Succubus (1968), as well as Adrian Hoven’s Castle of the Creeping Flesh (1968). However, Jess Franco was not involved in The Vampire Happening. This time, I was instead following the co-producer of Succubus Pier A. Caminnecci, who I thought seemed like an interesting guy, based on some of the backstory Jess Franco gave on him during an interview included on the old Blue Underground DVD release of Succubus, which included an interesting anecdote about Franco finding inspiration after coming across what he referred to as the Necronomicon at Caminnecci’s house. During the interview, Franco also said that Caminnecci was “…very rich…” and “…refined but sometimes insufferable because of his pretentious airs.” At the time, Caminnecci seemed surprisingly young for a film producer. He was the wealthy son of Harras Ursus Caminnecci Siemens, and he also co-founded Aquila Film Enterprises with actors and directors Adrian Hoven and Michel Lemoine.  

Caminnecci did seem to like to have cameos and bit parts in the films he co-produced. He makes a brief appearance during the opening to The Vampire Happening in an “adult movie” scene-within-a-scene with his wife Pia Degermark that is being shown to a mixed audience of passengers, with various jokey reactions, on a commercial airplane.

Degermark and Caminnecci married the same year The Vampire Happening came out, and I cannot help thinking that the film was intended as a starring vehicle, or perhaps even a sincere gift, from Caminnecci for Degermark to be elevated and fondly remembered by the world, as she was the beautiful lead and main attraction to the film in a dual role as actress Betty Williams and her undead ancestor Clarimonde.

Obscene Desire / L'osceno desiderio (1978)

I recently had the pleasure of discovering the hidden gem Obscene Desire for myself, and it could not have been timelier. Just as I was gearing up to review it, after taking several blurry looking screen grabs, I happened to find out that Vinegar Syndrome was releasing it on Blu-ray as part of their Bloodstained Italy three-movie set, which also included The Bloodstained Lawn (1973) and Death Falls Lightly (1972), so I decided to hold off until my pre-order came in. 

For me, the wait for a restoration of Obscene Desire was really short (only a few months after first watching it), in comparison to the whole decade I waited to finally see a restored The Witches Mountain (1973). It is, of course, a much appreciated big improvement over what was available before, and it’s an even greater delight to watch Marisa Mell as the lead, Amanda, in this pretty eclectic Spanish-Italian horror film. Here, she is not playing her typical swindling seductive murderess type (as seen in movies like Marta (1971) and Diary of an Erotic Murderess (1975)) but rather a vulnerable and pregnant newlywed, full of anxiety, who also gets to act the hell out of certain parts. 

Don’t get me wrong, I am a big fan of her swindlers, but I always thought Marisa Mell was underused in horror and fantasy. She played a seductive ghost in Parapsycho – Spektrum der Angst (1975) and had an attractive side role in Ring of Darkness (1979), but I’m still grateful for this consolidation of a murder mystery, psychological thriller, and Exorcist horror film with Marisa Mell at the helm. I also have to point out that during the climax, she does an awesome Gene Simmons impression that makes my night every time I see it.

Deep Shock (2019)

Deep Shock is another highly awarded short film written and directed by Italian filmmaker Davide Melini that is a return and a celebration of the classic giallo film but with a modern look and feel. It has the added bonus of also being a horror film, with both a giallo and demonic ghost story that seem to run side-by-side but also meet up and interconnect nicely, so if you like a little bit of The Changeling and The Exorcist to go with your Deep Red, there’s a good chance this horror/giallo hybrid might be your cup of tea. At thirty minutes, it far from overstays its welcome. In fact, I felt like watching it again shortly after my first viewing. 

The film was produced in the UK and was shot together with Melini’s other short Lion using the same crew, with Deep Shock taking eight and a half days to shoot. This one has a more expanded cast than the other three short films from Melini I’ve covered, as the story is bigger with themes of grief, trauma, nightmares, mystery, murder, family curses, and religion among others, while also including the beloved black gloved killer whose identity will be revealed when the time is right. 

Just in the opening scene alone, I felt like I noticed homages to three different Argento films, which feels appropriate, before it launches into its own story, starting with a string of nightmare sequences with the film’s lead heroine Sarah (Muireann Bird).

Lion (2017)

Some of you who have been with me long enough might remember me covering two short horror films, The Puzzle (2008) and The Sweet Hand of the White Rose (2010), from Italian filmmaker Davide Melini (assistant director for Dario Argento’s Mother of Tears (2008), Penny Dreadful and Into the Badlands). These were pretty good and provided me with a new experience in reviewing movies much shorter than I was used to. I also briefly spotlighted Melini’s supernatural horror/giallo hybrid Deep Shock (2019) back when it was still in pre-production. The film was delayed for quite some time but was eventually released in 2019. It has a cool classic and modern feel to it with a brutal bathroom murder scene that is worthy of the giallo style film it is celebrating.  

Davide Melini’s horror short from the UK titled Lion is boasted as being the most awarded horror short film in history. It feels like a runaway award effect is taking place with the film, as it is now up to a staggering 902 awards – which are individually posted on the film’s socials.

Arcana (1972)

“That’s twentieth-century progress for you; we can put a man on the moon, but we can’t find a few simple ingredients to do a magic trick.” – Captain Manzini  

If magic is real, then it isn’t obvious. It will probably never lend itself to definitive proof but rather reserve itself more for personal interpretation that depends on the hopes, beliefs, and dreams of the individual. Be it paranormal or psychological, magic spells can provide a lot of symbolic meaning, clarity, and guidance for the caster. 

Giulio Questi’s inventive, esoteric, enchanted sorcery of a film, Arcana, is an unforgettable experience that I like to think is a magic spell itself. The effects of that spell really start to hit at about the one hour and fourteen-minute mark (when that hypnotic violin theme kicks in) and we get a peculiar standout segment in the film that is unlike anything else. The film also does a good job at capturing the appeal and mystique of tarot in both the divination reading scenes and in the unfolding of its mystifying plot. 

Diary of an Erotic Murderess / La encadenada (1975)

Let’s keep the femme fatale thrillers rolling with the penultimate movie as director for Spanish filmmaker Manuel Mur Oti, Diary of an Erotic Murderess, starring Marisa Mell in the lead role as a seductive killer con woman. Despite being a true villain in the story, there’s something really likeable about her in this. She’s not a sympathetic villain, although she might try to incite sympathy, and she really isn’t redeemable in any way, but she’s still appealing. Perhaps that’s just a testament to the power of the outward charm and beauty of the femme fatale.

How many of you like to think you can change her? or that she might make a special exception in your case? and maybe you just might survive your romantic but likely deadly sojourn with her, with your fortune and life still intact? It’s a fun idea that I usually have when watching this movie, but it’s not very realistic considering it doesn’t go well for her partners in crime. Joking aside, this one also does get pretty dark. 

It shouldn’t be surprising that Diary of an Erotic Murderess is a treat for fans of Marisa Mell and her Italian and Spanish swindler thrillers like Perversion Story (1969), Marta (1971), The Great Swindle (1971), and Death Will Have Your Eyes (1974). She’s great in it, and it’s just as good as another of my favorites Marta, which has a similar concept but is told quite differently.

Diabolicamente... Letizia / Sex, Demons and Death (1975)

“The oppressed have assimilated their fate so well that they become indignant if we offer them a less repressed sexual future.” – Emmanuelle Arsan – Mon Emmanuelle, leur pape et mon Eros  

The name Letizia means “joy,” and one can’t help but feel joy when a name like Letizia rolls off the tongue. So, there’s a bitter irony to the title character of Salvatore Bugnatelli’s Diabolicamente… Letizia baring the sweetness of joyful pleasure only to turn out to be quite the devilish killjoy.

Diabolicamente… Letizia (also known as Sex, Demons and Death) is another peculiar erotic Italian horror that kind of stuck with me after only seeing it once about six years ago. There is something off-kilter and ominous about it, with a repressive, isolated autumnal villa setting involving a capricious young woman, Letizia (Franca Gonella- Zelda 1974), moving in and sexually perturbing the idle and seemingly peaceful lifestyles of her Aunt Micaela (Magda Konopka) and Uncle Marcello (Gabriele Tinti). The resulting erotic situations are intentionally built up only to push back and break the spell with some sort of unease, be it emotional confliction, humiliation, mockery, or even a jump scare, brought about by the sexually manipulative Letizia. Is she really some kind of sexual she-wolf demoness or do these characters have some serious hangups?