Kali
Hansa, born Marisol
Hernández, sort of put a spell on me with her role as Tunika in Amando de Ossorio’s THE NIGHT OF THE
SORCERERS. I would have dreams that were kind of like my own imagined sequel to
the film, where, in a sickly state, I would travel to the African forest where
this film took place. Knowing my time was running short, due to some sort of
terminal illness, I would travel up a mountain and to a place where I knew I
would find Tunika, in her vampire form. Longing to end my suffering, I would
find her in a shallow moonlit river where she would welcome me, and through an
act of vampiric intercourse, she would make me like her, curing me, making me
immortal, and also inflicting her curse upon me.
Thus is the effect her
presence in THE NIGHT OF THE SORCERERS had on me. With her constantly lingering
in my mind, I eventually viewed several more films that she was in, sometimes
credited as Gaby Herman or Kali Hansen. I was slightly saddened to find out
that she was usually just a supporting/minor character and had an acting career
that didn’t really take off, and it seemed to have ended circa 1976 after
shooting a hardcore porno for Jess Franco, WHITE SKIN BLACK THIGHS and an erotic comedy, GIRLS IN THE NIGHT TRAFFIC. Despite usually having small roles and frequently
being killed off, she visually stood out the most amongst other characters and gave off an ‘Oh-wow, who’s-that?’
impression. She apparently vanished after filming her last movie. She is from Cuba and was the girlfriend of Alberto Dalbes.
(Rumor bin: According to Jess Franco she moved back to Cuba to use her exceptional strength to fight against Fidel Castro!!!)
For this tribute to Kali Hansa, and possibly a new series for AT
THE MANSION OF MADNESS (Venomous Vixens), I’ve organized a few thoughts and
images from a selection of some of her films.
The Templar zombies in the Blind Dead films are a good example of a simple idea that really hits the mark. They’ve been fondly remembered for decades by fans and still have an onscreen impact that is just as powerful today as it was in the 70s. Their iconic doom-laden theme music by Antón Garcia Abril enhances the believability of the creeping-death that is Amando De Ossorio’s blind dead.
The opening to NIGHT OF THE SEAGULLS of a woman being brutally sacrificed by the not-yet-undead Knights Templar is effective but not surprising to those already familiar with Ossorio’s films. During the sacrifice ritual while these evil men stand around observing the terrible act, I found myself shouting aloud “don’t you guys have anything better to do than torment, stab, and eat this poor young lady?!”. It truly is a disgusting scene that was still very well done. Afterwards, the poor mangled and severed body is left to the crabs in a chilling sequence that I primarily remember this film for.
The shock and unpleasant feeling from the opening is shifted to a more melancholic vibe when the story transitions to present day while a mood setting synthesizer plays over the introduction of the two main characters, Dr. Henry Stein and his wife Joan Stein, played by Victor Petit and the always welcome Spanish horror regular Maria Kosty. The seaside village they’ve arrived at doesn’t feel like present day, in fact the film feels like an era piece, but Joan’s mall fashion wardrobe as well as the car they arrive in serves as a reminder that we are still in modern day Spain, just in a village that time forgot.
