Jess Franco draws on Dracula rather than Carmilla for his blood-spattered lesbian vampire film Vampyros Lesbos (1971), writes SIMON BALL
Review of Vampyros Lesbos (1971)
As the 1970s dawned, UK attitudes towards both homosexuality and cinema censorship loosened, unleashing a stream of exploitation lesbian vampire films upon an unsuspecting public.
Perhaps the most infamous of these was Hammer’s Karnstein trilogy, loosely based on J. Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1872 novella Carmilla, commencing with The Vampire Lovers (1970).
Of course, over the Channel, attitudes towards sexuality and nudity in European cinema had generally been far more relaxed. Roger Vadim had adapted Le Fanu’s story as Et mourir de plaisir (UK title Blood and Roses) in 1960.
This was followed by Christopher Lee starring in Italy’s 1963 adaptation La cripta e l’incubo (Crypt of the Vampire). Not to mention Jean Rollin, who was to carve his own niche of sexually explicit female vampire romps, commencing with Le viol du vampire (Rape of the Vampire) in 1968.
So perhaps it came as something of a surprise when maverick Spanish cult director Jess Franco chose different source material for his blood-spattered, erotic spin on the lesbian vampire theme.
The West German/Spanish co-production Vampyros Lesbos turns out to be essentially a partially gender-swapped reworking of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, but with, of course, the addition of Franco’s trademark oodles of sex and nudity.
Linda meets the Countess
Taking on the role of Jonathan Harker, we find Swedish actress Ewa Strömberg as estate agent Linda Westinghouse. She is tasked with handling the inheritance of the Dracula estate.
Westinghouse travels to Istanbul’s Kadidados Islands to meet Dracula’s descendant, Countess Nadine Carody (Franco’s muse, Soledad Miranda), who just happens to be sunning herself on the beach. So there’s a bit of selective vampire lore at play here.
Now, Linda has been having erotic dreams about a female vampire and, surprise, surprise, Carody turns out to be that exact same woman. Linda has also forgotten to bring a bathing suit.
Needless to say, it isn’t long before all their clothes fall off and Linda wakes up in the lunatic asylum run by an ungender-swapped Dr Seward.
However, this Seward, played by British actor Dennis Price (who, like a lot of British and US talent at the time, was finding work hard to come by at home), is a bit of a wrong ’un. He actively wants to be vamped so he can live life eternal.
His asylum is also home to the gender-swapped Renfield, Agra (Heidrun Kussin).
As Nadine compels Linda to return to the island to become her vampire lover, Linda’s boyfriend Omar (Andrea Montchal) teams up with her psychologist, Dr Steiner (Paul Muller), to attempt to liberate her from Carody’s influence.
But not before Linda gets herself abducted by Agra’s psycho lover Memmet (played by the director himself). There are also some surreal, trademark Franco nightclub cabaret scenes involving yet more nudity and bloodshed.
Sex, blood and psychedelic jazz
Structurally, for a Franco film, the narrative hangs together quite well, but it does become somewhat fragmented as it hurtles towards its conclusion.
This was not unusual for the director, who was prone to binning pages from the screenplay if the production budget or location time drew short, or even if he just got bored with it. But Vampyros Lesbos is nowhere near as madly confused as some of his later films.
However, the cinematography is gorgeous, Soledad is wonderfully psychotic as Carody and there is a funky psychedelic lounge jazz score by Manfred Hübler and Siegfried Schwab to enjoy too.
