Not to be confused with Andy Warhol’s Blow Job (1963),
Alberto Cavallone’s Blow Job is a witchy Italian horror
film with a fairly meagre start that escalates into a reality transcending
experience that was influenced by Aldous Huxley’s The Doors of Perception (1952) and the shamanistic writings of Carlos Castaneda. One similarity between both films is the titular blowjob and its
ambiguous nature. Warhol’s Blow Job is a thirty five minute still-shot
of a young man’s (DeVeren Bookwalter)
face while he is supposedly receiving fellatio, allegedly by experimental
filmmaker Willard Maas. Because the
sexual act itself takes place off camera, it is never absolutely certain if the
fellatio is legitimately happening, which along with conflicting accounts of
the filming itself adds a curious air of mystery to it.
The blowjob in Cavallone’s film only makes up a
fraction of the movie during the third act and coincides with a mescaline (the main
active hallucinogen in peyote) trip, and so the fellatio is also presented
indirectly. The mescaline aided “blowjob” sort of doubles as a gateway act to a
higher form of perception, but the fascination in this case comes more from how
the filmmakers choose to represent “suchness” or “the absolute”, the ultimate
nature of reality without reduced awareness. One of our lead characters Stefano
(Danilo Micheli) transcends reality,
under the guidance of an erotic witch Sibilla (Mirella Venturini), to take a trip through the spirit world, aka
tripping balls. It involves dancing and low budget experimental set pieces and
was more memorable than I was anticipating it to be.
Terence from Chicks with Candles has tagged me to “list
ten films that describe my aesthetic.” I believe this is a Tumblr game that has
leaked into Blogger in my case. Before me, Terence was tagged by @alfredsnightmare. So what does it mean to say “my aesthetic”? With movies, I
think of it as a familiar visual and emotional theme that still resonates with
me irregardless of how many times I experience it.
But perhaps the included images
might speak a little more than words.
1)
The Forbidden Photos of a Lady above Suspicion (1973): Colorful liquor bar carts, ‘70s giallo
glamor, Euro-nightclubs, Technicolor, small cars, cigarettes, Edda Dell’Orso,
Ennio Morricone – So these features could describe a lot of movies, but
this one has one of my favorite titles and Nieves
Navarro in a black high split open side dress. I thought that Navarro’s proud and confident sexually liberated
character Dominique felt like a proto-Samantha from Sex and the City.
2) Succubus (1968): Provocative muses, looming castle destinations,
mannequins, inner personality conflicts, nightclub faux torture scenes, dream
sequences, trippy acid parties – The hazy soft-focused sequence when Janine Reynaud’s Lorna Green drifts out of bed
and ventures to the limestone river castle in Lisbon and the questionable perspective
of dream or reality remains a gold standard for surreal film experiences for
me. Is she mad, or just not of this world?
3)
The Reincarnation of Isabel (1973): Erotic
madness, mountainous terrain, spaced out looking actors standing around the
Castle Balsorano, Eastmancolor, expressive sadomasochism, comical sex scenes, day
and night merging, excessive use of grandiose set pieces – This movie’s
a chaotic mess, but it’s also an expressionistic masterpiece that thrives on
account of its aesthetic and not its narrative.
4) The Blood Spattered Bride (1972): Ancestral mansions, sapphic vampires, Carmilla influenced, bloody daggers,
blurred line between dream and reality, bloody mariticide, gothic candle lit
dinner scenes, sylvan settings – Beautiful but disturbing with several
uncomfortable parts, The Blood spattered
Bride still works as a great Spanish horror film despite being pretty heavy
with its tones of misogyny and misandry.
5)
The Spider Labyrinth (1988): Conspiracy
theory – How can conspiracy theory be an aesthetic? Well, have a look at
the included screen grab below. That realization that you were in the lion’s
den the entire time makes for a uneasy experience in denouements to films such
as The Perfume of the Lady in Black,
Short Night of Glass Dolls, and Rosemary’s Baby.
6) Pinocchio and the Emperor of the Night (1987): ‘80s Filmation nostalgia, inappropriately scary
for intended kid audience, creepy carnivals – This unofficial sequel to Carlo Collodi’s Pinocchio did give me nightmares, particularly on account of one
scene with Pinocchio at The Neon Cabaret, some sort of kid disco (the Playland counterpart),
where the kids' faces start to horrifically distort after he drinks the sparkly
green liquid, which I like to think is carbonated Ecto Cooler spiked with absinthe.
7) All the Colors of the
Dark (1972): Black Masses, Edwige
fenech (yes, she counts as an aesthetic), looming mansion destinations, Bruno
Nicolai, staying classy and fashionable (like something out of a JCPenny’s
catalogue) while being stalked by your killer. I love black mass scenes and
All the Colors of the Dark easily
has my favorites.
8) The Werewolf vs.
the Vampire Woman (1971): Vampires
moving through space in slow motion, classic monster mashups, Paul Naschy, gothic ambiance
– With the right amount of fog and dread, slow motion framing can make your
monsters seem to exist outside of space and time, and the effect is quite
startling, so much so that Amando di
Ossorio would mimic it for his Blind Dead Templars.
9) Queens of Evil (1970): Horror movies with a fairytale exterior, provocative situations that
aren’t what they seem, ancient witches in touch with modern ‘70s fashions, Snow
White, free spirited hippies with a lot of crazy ideas about free love – Queens of Evil is a fantastic horror
film with a biting social message.
10) Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988):
Classic cel animation juxtaposed with
reality, nourish style set in 1940s LA, inappropriate for kids despite
being one of my favorite movies as a kid – There couldn’t be anything more
awesome than cartoons being real and the existence of a place like Toontown and
not to mention a chance to meet Betty Boop.
