Faceless is
a rather unscrupulous, but not entirely tasteless, splatter film from Jess Franco that is a loose addition to
his long running Dr. Orloff series that began in 1962 with The Awful Dr. Orloff. It’s got a bigger budget than the usual Franco film, thanks to French producer Rene Chateau, and it shows. Being more a
fan of Franco’s ‘no-budget’ erotic
surrealist horror from the late ‘60s, early ‘70s, it was interesting for me to
see him do the gory ‘80s thing rather adequately. The cast is also a treat for genre-fans, as it includes several fan
favorites who are all great in their parts, like Helmut Berger, Brigitte Lahaie, Telly Savalas, Caroline Munro,
Lina Romay, and Howard Vernon as Dr. Orloff, who, like Romay, is only here for a brief but memorable cameo.
Along with the
copious gore candy, a major strength here is the addition of numerous
well-acted villains. It’s like a gathering of abhorrent human monsters that are
all a representation of the darker, evil side of human nature and therefore realistic,
but there’s also a fantasy angle, too, with the beauty restoration operations
and the youthful look of Dr. Orloff’s elderly wife (Romay) bringing Faceless
into the realm of Cinema Fantastique. The surgical operations are the most gruesome
element; the way the eyes still move from the still conscious, drugged victims
after their faces have been surgically removed is extremely disturbing. The man
in charge of the real dirty work of disposing the bodies of the captured girls,
Gordon (Gérard Zalcberg), brings on
the gore, too, and is also the most outwardly monstrous creation of the bunch
(I can’t help wishing that he was called Morpho, to keep up with a Franco tradition for these types of
characters).
Picture this. You’re on a vacation in Toledo, at a crowded town square with a large group of tourists you’ve just spent the last several hours with on an uncomfortable stuffy bus ride.The tour guide is exhibiting an old fresco of the devil, whose face seems peculiar and unforgettable and looks like that one actor who used to play Kojak. Out of nowhere, an irresistible and soul warming melody catches your attention, and you can’t help but stray from the group and pursue its source. Your curiosity has led you to an antique store where a lovely music box is emanating a most attractive sound. Upon inquiry to the shop owner, you learn that the music box is not for sale but belongs to a customer standing before you, who to your concern, happens to carry the same face you beheld in the fresco. After leaving the shop, you now have a complete disoriented sense of direction amidst an endless winding labyrinth of cobblestoned alleyways, without any sign of the town square where you had the comfort and safety of being in a group. Strange folk you come across shun you, avoid you, and treat you like you’re invisible.
Now you are lost and all alone, but this isn’t by mistake, he has chosen you and you are in his world now, for he is your only guide. You might as well make the best of it and try to look forward to what’s in store….. Surely bizarre and exciting adventures must lie ahead….. I’d also feel flattered if I were you, since it’s likely he thought you the fairest and prettiest of the bunch.
What has just been narrated to you is my interpretation of the set up to a high-body-count Gothic thriller from Mario Bava called LISA AND THE DEVIL, a visual feast from a cinematographic master that is full of memorable sequences that uncontrollably pummel the viewer with some of the greatest “Oh my God!” moments, ever. Allow me to attempt to manifest in words why this film kicks much ass, without giving too much away.
