"Faceless" (1987) d/ Jesus Franco

As we enter the second month of 2016 our thoughts quickly turn to love and romance, and the great lengths we go to prove it to our significant other, usually spending vulgar amounts of cash around the middle of the month, just to save face. In the world of cult cinema, saving face can take on entirely different connotations, and in the case of tonight's review, a late eighties gore-packed variation on his initial effort, director Jess Franco does an awful lot of it. In fact, he also ruins some faces, removes a few, and throws in a chainsaw and a power drill just for kicks. You've got to appreciate the man's unwavering dedication to capturing intimacy between the sexes on celluloid. The Richard Marx-esque late eighties synth pop soundtrack that (constantly)accompanies this one? Not so much. Not so fucking much at all. Still...


It's not often that we see Brigitte doing the poking. Just sayin'.
Dr. Flamand (Helmut Berger) witnesses his sister, Ingrid (Christiane Jean), block a vial of acid that was meant for him, chucked by a disgruntled, partially scarified former patient, with her own beautiful face, leaving her with a permanent Manwich grill, and leaving her brother to spend every resource available to him to restore her former beauty. Nathalie (Brigitte Lahaie) helps out by kidnapping unsuspecting donors from the Paris nightclub scene of the late eighties, locking them naked in cells in a private wing of their clinic, and subjecting them to the advances of Gordon, an especially creepy subordinate with a perm-ullet and no fucking eyebrows. When they abduct Barbara (Caroline Munro), a coked-out model, right from her photo shoot, her father (Telly Savalas) enlists a cat named Morgan (Chris Mitchum) who comes off as a skinny, less imposing Dirty Harry,  to fly to Paris and find his daughter. When Flamand and Nathalie consult Dr. Orloff (Howard Vernon) for helpful face transplant hints, he suggests they bring Dr. Moser (Anton Diffring), an escaped Nazi surgeon who specialized in such operations at Dachau, on board.


Also just sayin': I'd wrap those legs around my head like a turban.
Luckily for Flamand, Moser is seemingly available for work almost immediately, but he shows up and fumbles the first attempt, destroying a young whore's face, and forcing Gordon, chainsaw in hand, into action, as he beheads her with it. Meanwhile, Morgan is bullying Barbara's last employer (sort of a French Charles Nelson Reilly) for answers, leading to a ham-fisted comedic scrap with a muscle-bound gay named Doudou, and copping cheap feels from the headless corpses piling up at the morgue, to the dismay of the French authorities. In need of new face, Flamand and Nathalie come upon none other than Florence Guerin (as herself) in the dance club, talk her into some menage a trois action, and kidnap her for impending facepiece surgery. Don't sweat it, Flo. Can't be any worse than appearing in Bruno Mattei's Caligula et Messaline (1981). As Morgan traces Barbara's credit card to the clinic, where he also notices Nathalie sporting the jewel-encrusted watch that Babs was wearing when she went missing in the first place. Will he rescue her before Ingrid can adopt her good looks? Will Dr. Moser fumble the dermal mask again while staring at Nat's ample pornographic charms? Will Gordon get a decent haircut and grow his eyebrows out? Did Telly Savalas just speak French? The answers to these questions and more await you, once you've bagged yourselves a copy and screen it personally.


"I've eaten all the strawberry preserves, but that Florence Guerin face roll up looks appetizing."
Besides playing more than his fair share of archetypal Nazi villains over a film career that spanned nearly fifty years, Anton Diffring turned up in a few horror movies along the way, usually as an unhinged plastic surgeon, like this Jesus Franco update of his own pioneer genre effort, The Awful Dr. Orloff aka/ Gritos en la noche (1962), where he plays a nazi and an unhinged plastic surgeon. Faceless, which marked the second last role for Diffring before his death in 1989, would also be the last big screen appearance of Telly "Kojak" Savalas, but they're not the only recognizable names in the credits, as British scream queen Caroline Munro, Visconti regular Helmut Berger, Robert Mitchum's son Chris, Lina Romay, and even French porn goddess Brigitte Lahaie all make the scene. If you can manage to ignore the awful soundtrack, and some of the horrible eighties fashions on display, as hard as that is,  you'll probably enjoy Faceless, though it isn't nearly the best of it's kind, or even the best Franco approach on the subject matter. On the scale, a modest two Wops sounds fitting here. Give it a look.


"Don't be silly, darling...you're still very reverse-beautiful."

R.I.P. Lina Romay

23 June 1954 - 15 February, 2012

"Justine"(1968)d/Jesus Franco

Tonight we examine the screen adaption of a book once called "the most abominable book ever engendered by the most depraved imagination"(that's a tall order,shorty) by no less than Napoleon Bonaparte, resulting in the thirteen year imprisonment of its author;a man known the world over as the father of Sadism, the Marquis DeSade.An ambitious undertaking for any director, granted, and somewhat ironic that none other than Jesus Franco would helm the project during one of his more prolific and respectable periods of work.Perhaps the true irony here is that Franco doesn't bung the whole production down the lavvy, despite his signature eternity-long zooming hand held shots that often end up blurred and out-of-focus, or more often, on some broad's hairy gravy boat, on display for all to see.In this film, the bush just happens to belong to the daughter of silver screen swashbuckler,Tyrone Power,whose fatal heart attack came ten years earlier in 1958, and not directly after screening Romina in her birthday suit here as one might deduce.Also lending credibility to the Italian production are performances by Franco regular Maria Rohm, the one and only Klaus Kinski(who's kind of wasted here, only bagging silent screen time as DeSade himself), the actress behind the husky screen voice of Pazuzu in The Exorcist, Mercedes McCambridge, and even local great Jack Palance, who's not only appropriately off-the-chain as a sexually deviant libertine here, he also levitates for anybody interested in seeing that sort of thing.Nothing would surprise me at this point after checking out some of the search topics that bring readers to the Wop every day.Y'never know.So does Franco do the literary pornography of DeSade any justice?Read on for my verdict.

DeSade(Klaus Kinski)lets his quill do all the talking.
As we begin,the Marquis DeSade(Kinski)relates the sad tale to the viewer from the confines of prison, tortured by hallucinogenic images of, well...bare-assed women being tortured(I'm pretty sure he grooved on this sort of thing IRL).Juliette and Justine(Maria Rohm, Romina Power)get thrown out of a nunnery when their father unexpectedly dies.When Juliette's friend, Madame de Buission, turns out to be a brothel madam, the more virtuous and pure sister, Justine, bows out gracefully, while her nasty whorish sister Juliette willingly sets up camp in the whorehouse, learning all the carnal skills to make herself the apex prostitute.Meanwhile, things for Justine go from bad to progressively worse.A passing priest jacks her up for her gold doubloons and passes her on to a fat old scumbag named Du Harpin, who frames her with a gold amulet stolen from his master, Monsieur Derroches, ultimately landing her in prison.There she is befriended by Dusbois(Mercedes McCambridge),a gravelly-voiced she-assassin who takes pity on her for her innocent looks, and incorporates the young girl in a daring escape plan involving a set fire.Her sister, meanwhile, has honed her treachery to a fine point, adding murder to her growing list of unscrupulous talents; killing her madam and a rich client to boost her own pile of duckats.When Dusbois' henchman vie for dibs on deflowering their new young accomplice in the forest, she makes her escape, finding shelter and love for a short time in the home of a painter named Raymond.

Dusbois(Mercedes McCambridge),a condemned virago, still manages to set aside some quality gypo dancing time.
Her happiness with Raymond is short-lived though, as the police inquire as to her whereabouts, forcing her to flee into the woods, coming upon the shrewd and loafer-light Marquis de Bressac, who hires her as an attendant to his wife, the Marquise(genre fave Sylvia Koscina), that he's been planning to eighty-six all along.When she refuses to kill the woman for him, he kills her himself with poison and frames Justine anyway, branding a huge M(for murderer) between her smallish(but appetizing just the same!) busom.At the same time, her sister Juliette has amassed a small fortune from her wicked ways that she no longer fancies sharing with fellow prostitute Claudine, so she sinks her in the drink while bathing in a river.Just when things seem to be looking up for Justine as she finds herself in a chateau occupied by a monastic brotherhood led by Father Antonin(Jack Palance), she discovers in horror that the men are perverted hedonists in search of the highest forms of physical pleasure, torturing women that they keep as sex slaves.During a ceremony where Antonin plans to reward Justine for rapidly learning their philosophy by releasing her through torture-killing her(Englebert Humperdinck would not be amused), things go wrong and she escapes once again.Her brief lover Raymond rescues her again only to have Dusbois abduct her again, forcing her to appear nude in a stage show where the crowd notices her murderess brand, causing her to be dragged off by the police again(Phew!).Before the King's men can enforce their justice though, she is noticed by a minister's mistress who saves her life.The woman of position turns out to be Juliette herself, confessing that her life of big black evil badness turned out be less fulfilling than she thought, and her sister Justine would finally be rewarded despite her long-standing misery.Justine takes up at the palace with her sibling, and is reunited with her lover, Raymond.Awwww, that's nice.

The sweet and virtuous Justine(Romina Power), willing to break it all out for love and art.
Surprisingly, the movie is as reasonably close to the book as one could expect here, sparing audiences Justine's death at an untimely lightning bolt after confessing her sins to her sister(!).I dunno, I woulda dug seeing that, to be truthful.Franco sandwiched this release between 99 Women and Eugenie, The Story of Her Journey into Perversion, before moving on to Venus in Furs, and two Christopher Lee vehicles, The Bloody Judge and Count Dracula, the following year.The oft-nude Power would continue on in Italian film for decades, adding singing, writing, and painting to her already impressive repertoir.She does an adequate job here(though she's at least five years older than the literary model fyi), always looking the right mixture of innocence and untapped sex appeal.McCambridge, who also landed a part in 99 Women as Franco-philes will already know, bagged herself a Best Supporting Actress Oscar in 1949 and was once called the greatest living radio actress by none other than Orson Welles himself.Tonight's review will finally break the string of three wop movies we've had here recently, though it should be noted that a two wop Franco movie is like a three wopper for other directors, in most cases.Worth a look!

Jack Palance's portrayal of Father Antonin is based entirely on a chunk of Prosciutto di Praga...believe it....or not.

"The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein"(1972)d/Jess Franco

If you compiled the best ninety minutes of ALL of the films of Jesus Franco into one movie,chances are,you'd STILL have a steaming lump of fly-encompassed dogshit in your hands.Now,I've heard just about all the pro-Franco arguments,and honestly,they smell nearly as pungent as the guy's films themselves,though trying to justify the guy's glass eye behind the camera,the dull-edged tanto knife he no doubt uses to cut scenes,the fourteen bucks he usually spends on makeup effects,etc.,is probably a pretty entertaining stance to take,for someone who loves to argue,like myself.I just can't bring myself to be that guy.Everybody's got a favorite rotten director,and Franco seems to have hit a nerve within the hip film community,whereas,my top stops for cinematic poo involve other equally untalented gents.
There's two directions a Franco film usually takes.Sometimes,after enduring some of his fumbled film attempts,I find myself somehow entertained,and usually drying my eyes from a prolonged spell of laughing my ass off at the slop he's hurriedly slung together and disguised as a movie.In other instances,I find myself dozing off,my eyes strained from trying to focus on something...anything he's filmed,and tired of piecing the few lines of dialogue he's haphazardly cut the ends off of back together.Luckily,tonight's entry qualifies as the former.A low-budgeted hunk of crap,with little coherency,poor performances,lousy makeup,atrocious camerawork,and ridiculous story,all shot in and around the picturesque castles,gothic houses,and scenic landscapes of Portugal.It's a tremendous waste of time,and thus,a highly enjoyable Franco romp.

Baron Frankestein(Dennis Price)looks for his booze flask under the silver-painted disco variant of his monster(Fernando Bilbao).
Baron Frankenstein(Price),with the help of his hunchbacked assistant,Morpho(!)(Franco himself),has just electrically shocked his silver-disco monster(Bilbao)into speaking for the first time.The celebration is short-lived,however,as his lab gets the bum's rush from Cagliostro's cronies,one of which,a caped nude girl(Anne Libert) with sparse feathers and claws that a child might learn how to make in Kindergarten art class,who screeches like a bird,that tears the good Baron to shreds(translation:two blood streaks on the side of his neck),making off with his patchwork ABBA stage prop.At the castle at Varna,Cagliostro(Vernon)awaits.Not to be confused with the 18th century Italian adventurer/occultist,our version creates blood hungry blind bird women with human sperm and bird eggs,controls peoples' feeble minds with "magnetic rays",and sports one helluva fake crepe wool goatee.See,he's out to create a master race for the benefit of the cult of Panthos(translation:a caucophany of creeps in dime store skull masks,bedsheets,and in at least one instance,Spock ears) using Frankenstein's BeeGee love child as a catalyst since his blind bird-woman was a failure(on so many levels).Elsewhere,Esmeralda(Lina Romay)the gypsy girl sits by a babbling spring a lot.With his own "fixation ray",the late Baron springs back to life with a bad case of the shakes,and warns his daughter Vera(Beatriz Savón) and Dr. Seward(Alberto Dalbés)of the guy with the spinach chin and powerful magnetic rays,but spurs his daughter to take revenge for his untimely,cheaply staged death.

Melissa(Anne Libert),the bird-girl,says,"Screeeeeeee!Screeeeeee!"
So,back at the castle, Cagliostro's been kidnapping women for parts towards his female creation,built solely to do a little dance,make a little love,and get down tonight with the silver square topped boogier he's stolen from Frankenstein,but when he discovers the Baron's daughter Vera in his dungeon,he has her tied nude to his henchman,Caronte,over a pit of poisoned spikes(translation:large piece of panelling with rubber triangles glued all over it),while both prisoners are enthusiastically flogged by the silver dude,who's also shirtless,as Cagliostro and Melissa look on,laughing maniacally/orgiastically.Truly fucked up to behold,I tell you.During the ceremony where Cagliostro hopes to mate the patchwork couple for eugenical purposes,Seward breaks in and tells the creature that Beardsley has offed his creator,sending the silver chappie into a frenzy,as he puts the bird-girl out of her misery,as well as several of the Panthos cats,but when he tries to plod off with Vera in his mitts,Seward fills him full of lead.Cagliostro speeds away in a horse-driven carriage with Esmeralda aboard(he must've pitstopped at the brook),laughing maniacally(that's what the guy does,the fake beard dictates as much) as he takes a hairpin turn around a cliff.

More trick or treaters??!!I thought I told you to turn the light off out there,Goddamn it!
Kudos to my man,Blake,for scoring the German X Rated Kult print of tonight's flick,apart from being a diamond geezer,he's always a good lightning rod for Euro-trash.Howard Vernon went onto roles in The French Sex Murders(1973),A Virgin Among the Living Dead(1973),and a myriad of other genre films,including a reprisal of Cagliostro in Les gloutonnes(1973),before passing away in 1996 in Paris.Franco,apart from having more aliases than Joe D'Amato,continues to direct movies and win awards,amazingly, today,now eighty years old!The same goes for Romay,who made her debut in tonight's feature,then went on to star in over a hundred of Franco's works.She wasn't given much to do this time,but she was a striking beauty in her heyday.You know how I am with brunettes,ferchrissakes.Like I said earlier,I enjoyed Rites for its hokey appeal and low budget charm,it had me laughing out loud on more than one occasion.If you're a Steckler/H.G. Lewis/Milligan/Buchanon,et al fan,you'll probably get similar kicks out of screening this for yourself.

Perhaps the finest example of "WTF!" ever filmed.