Oasis of the Zombies (Jess Franco, 1981)

Hey, have you heard? Word on the street is that there's six million dollars worth of gold buried somewhere out in the desert. And, get this, it's not just any old gold, it's Nazi gold! The best kind of gold there is. Unfortunately, there's a catch. In order to get at it, you must first get by the hordes of bug-eyed Nazi zombies who protect it. Wait a minute. Bug-eyed Nazi zombies?!? Why that's just superstitious nonsense created by the locals to scare away tourists and prospective treasure hunters. Besides, everybody knows that zombies aren't real. Oh yeah? Just ask the two leggy women wearing short shorts who are about to stumble upon them in Oasis of the Zombies (a.k.a. The Treasure of the Living Dead), the foremost instructional video on how to avoid being attacked by the undead while searching for buried treasure in far off, zombie-infested lands. After I finished watching the film, which, of course, is directed by A.M. Frank, a.k.a. Jess Franco (Faceless), I couldn't help but notice that my desire to travel to Libya to look for Nazi gold had completely subsided. Sure, the desire was never there to begin with, but I can't deny the fact that it wasn't there by the time the film was over, either. In other words, the film lives up to its reputation as the Lawrence of Arabia of zombie movies. If you have never heard of "Lawrence of Arabia," try to think of it as The English Patient of zombie movies. Only, instead of being frightfully lame, and, not to mention, overlong and filled with blithering gits (Jürgen Prochnow and The Buddha of Suburbia, notwithstanding), this film is a genuine masterpiece that didn't destroy a single brain cell. In fact, I think I might have gained a few cells after all was said and done. Which, I've been told, is quite rare, as most films make you more stupid, not the other way around.

 
If only the two young women who appear in the film's pre-opening credits sequence had seen the film, maybe they would have known better than to wander into an oasis known for its zombie sightings. But then again, how can they watch the film, if they're in the film. Whoa, did I just blow your mind or what? Seriously, though, the two young women, the scrumptious Yolanda, and, since I didn't catch the name of her skinny friend, I'll call her, Wanda, have no way reaping the many benefits that come with watching Oasis of the Zombies attentively with one's eyeballs. Which is a shame, because if there's anyone who appears in this movie who didn't deserve to be torn apart by undead members of the Afrika Korps, it's definitely these two lovely ladies.

 
Just admit it, part of you wishes they had seen movie. Yeah, it's true, I wish they had. I mean, the movie would have been better than a masterpiece if they had been featured throughout its spry running time. However, they didn't see the movie, which, like I said, would be implausible–you know, since it's physically impossible to watch a movie before you have even made it. At the end of the day, this is just something you're going to have to accept.

 
What were–if you don't mind my asking–Yolanda and Wanda doing out in the middle of the desert? I have no idea. All I know is that they arrived at the oasis in an orange jeep and that one of them was excited to be there and one of them was not. This difference in opinion when it came to the oasis is what dominated their conversation as they debated whether or not to exit the jeep. When, I think it was Wanda, suggests that they go for a walk, I might have nodded slightly to signify my approval of this course of action. As in, yes, go for a walk (try to picture me nodding slightly as I am saying this). The tempo of my nods increased somewhat when Yolanda agrees by saying that a walk will gives us, and I quote: "a chance to stretch our legs a bit." Did you just say that the rate in which you were lowering and raising your head "increased somewhat"? You're joking, right? I would have thought a statement like that would have had rolling around in a liquefied pool of your own fecal matter (don't try to picture me doing that).

 
You're absolutely right, the sight of Yolanda and Wanda getting out of their jeep did send me into a minor frenzy. You could totally tell just by looking at her that Yolanda, like, had it going on in the leg department. And, like any sane individual, I was dying to see her stretch them in a desert setting. It's true, I don't know the names of the actresses who played Yolanda and Wanda, but I do know that Yolanda was the dirty blonde in the blue satin short shorts with the red and white trim and that Wanda was the brunette in the denim cut-offs. Either way, if anyone does know the names of the actresses who played Yolanda and Wanda, please let me know.

 
Surrounded by date trees, human skulls, chunks of metal painted with swastikas, broken cannons, and other such military hardware, Yolanda feels ill at ease almost immediately, and starts to complain. Demanding that they leave this creepy place at once, Yolanda tries to convince Wanda that it's in their best interest to extricate themselves from this disquieting environment. The gorgeous Yolanda, her wispy girl mustache bristling with fear, is growing impatient with her less attractive friend. And who can blame her? She's the one with the tantalizing eyes/thighs, not Wanda. Everyone knows that zombies prefer to gnaw on curvy girls with hint of sappho. And wouldn't you know it, a pair of ghoulish hands grab Yolanda's legs first.

 
I thought to myself, as Yolanda and Wanda screamed for their lives, is there anyway Oasis of the Zombies can top the leg-based sexiness and the sheer terror of its opening scene? And is any point writing anymore since I spent so much time talking about two characters who probably weren't even looking for the hidden Nazi gold in the first place? Excellent questions. After not giving it a lot of thought, I've decided to continue. But bear in mind that Yolanda and Wanda will always be in the back of my mind as I'm doing so, especially the sight of them walking hand-in-hand, the surface of their bums undulating with every step; well, Yolanda's bum–you know, since the booty gods have given her more booty to work with.

 
It actually makes sense for me to focus on the adventures of the skittish Yolanda and the intrepid Wanda. Think about it, who wants me to write about the battle that takes place between German Afrika Korps troops and a small band of British soldiers? Okay, now who wants me to describe the shape of a woman's ass encased in short shorts? That's what I thought. Anyway, there's this guy named Blatter (Javier Maiza), a British commander who intercepts a group of German's up to no good at an oasis in the desert during World War II. Forty years later, he teams up with Kurt (Henri Lambert), the man who trained the German's who were up to no good, in order to find the gold they were supposedly transporting.

  
If you think it was wrong for Blatter to trust a former adversary, particularly one named "Kurt," you're absolutely right to think that, as he poisons him the second he finds out the location of the mysterious oasis. When Blatter's son, Robert Blatter (Manuel Gélin), a university student in London, hears about his father's death in Libya (his father stayed there after the war), he heads down to straighten up his affairs. While going through his notes, he learns of his quest to find the lost Nazi gold. An extended flashback sequence shows Blatter senior during the war. On top of battle scenes, this segment shows the friendship between Blatter and a character known as "The Sheik" (Antonio Mayans), a man who rescues Blatter from certain death (he found him wandering through the desert after a major battle). As Commander Blatter is recovering from his wounds, and making goo goo eyes with the sheik's daughter Aisha (Doris Regina) back in 1943, I couldn't help but think about how much better the film would have been had it focused instead on Yolanda and Wanda. Get over it, man. They're zombie chow.

 
Deciding that he wants to finish the job his father started, Robert heads back to London to recruit his friends, Sylvie (Caroline Audret), Ronald (Eric Viellard), and Ahmed (Miguel Ángel Aristu), in order to help him look for six million dollars worth of Nazi gold buried somewhere in the Libyan desert. Meanwhile, Kurt, his leggy wife Ingrid (Myriam Landson), and their two helpers arrive at the oasis. As Kurt and Ingrid settle in for the night, their two helpers decide to wander around the oasis shirtless.

 
Oh-oh, you remember that creaking sound I mentioned when I was talking about Yolanda and Wanda's time at the oasis? Wait. Did I mention the film's signature creaking sound or not? Whatever, that same sound has started up again. However, this time around we get to see what the attackers look like, and boy, they ain't pretty. In fact, they're some of the nastiest zombies I have ever seen (the one whose eyes were popping out of his head was my favourite). It should go without saying, but the shirtless helpers are quickly devoured. As you might expect, the sound of human flesh being consumed by zombies wakes up Kurt and Ingrid. After his attempt to reason with them fails, Kurt makes a run for it. (He actually thought he could talk his way out of being eaten by zombies. Classic Kurt.)

 
Finally arriving in Libya, Robert and his friends get down to business. What liked about their arrival, besides the fact that Sylvie is wearing denim shorts (with a pair of sunglasses tucked in the waist band), carrying a red purse, and rocking a walk-man, was that all the Libyans seemed to be dressed like monks. And I also liked how they didn't seem to give a shit about the Libyans who were trying to pray (they just walked around them like they were lumps of dirty laundry). Oh, and I have to say, Caroline Audret, despite her cute ensemble, isn't really cutting it as a leading lady. Luckily, an actress with some personality is about to make her presence felt, and her name is France Lomay (Cecilia). Playing Erika, the blonde assistant to Professor Konrad (Albino Graziani), France brings some much needed sex appeal to the proceedings with her green overall shorts and her penchant for falling for guys named Ronald.

 
You heard right, despite his unflattering bowl cut, Ronald manages to woo Erika while an afroed imam burns the body of a dead man who is suspected of being a zombie. As unlikely as their paring is, it does give them an interesting story to tell the folks back home. Hey, Ronald. Hey, Erika. How did you two meet? Well, it's a funny story. We were watching this guy get cremated, when all of a sudden... Actually, before they can tell people the compelling story about how they met, they're gonna first have to spend a night at the infamous oasis, which, as everyone knows by now, is an activity fraught with danger.

 
Hauntingly beautiful, yet unsettlingly awful at the same time, Oasis of the Zombies is probably one of the zombie movies I have seen. You could argue that I have seen other zombie movies, but there's no denying that I have seen Oasis of the Zombies. Therefore, it's one of the zombie movies I have seen. Reminding me of Days of Heaven, except with one hundred percent less Richard Gere, Jess Franco has made not only a zombie movie, but a war movie with Indiana Jones-style greed and Sex and the City 2-esque cultural insensitivity. When Robert and his college age gang of treasure hunters show up at the oasis, the atmosphere is downright ominous. I don't know, there's something inherently creepy about the sight of zombies walking over sand dunes. And say what you will about everything that has happened up until this point, minus, of course, the scene with Yolanda and Wanda, as their scene is perfection on a stale cracker, the final showdown is zombie-based filmmaking at its finest.

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Cecilia (Jess Franco, 1982)

The lush, dewy landscape of Sintra, Portugal provides the backdrop for one of the steamiest journeys into the forbidden realm of strappy heeled eroticism that I have ever seen. Wow. I had no idea you had seen that much strappy heeled eroticism; so much so, that you're able to elevate certain cinematic works to heightened levels of loftiness based solely on their ability to induce a generous helping of steam. It's true, I haven't; seen enough films that feature strappy heels in a lush and/or dewy setting to be able to confidently single out its many steam-based blessings. However, if I had, I'm sure Jess Franco's Cecilia (a.k.a. Aberraciones Sexuales de una Mujer Casada) would be near the top of the list, as this film oozes verdancy and legginess simultaneously. The former is provided by the aforementioned location, which is exploited to the point where the film could be classified a weird form of botanical pornography (people who love plant life, and the natural world in general, will adore the many close-up shots of overgrown greenery and blooming flowers). And, of course, the latter is supplied by the many pairs of strappy heels worn throughout the film, as the heels–the strappier, the better–intensify the innate beauty of the legs they're attached to. In reality, though, the gorgeous Muriel Montossé doesn't really need to have any of her curves exaggerated, as she's a work of curvy art all on her own. Piercing the humid air of her ornate surroundings with a crotch altering aplomb, Cecilia wants to feel everything the world has to offer when it comes to oblique objects rubbing up against her supple flesh. Whether it be fresh cut flowers, lily pads, troglodytic low-lifes, garter belts, or drunken bar patrons, Cecilia needs to feel their touch on a regular basis. Without it, well, you'll be looking at one unhappy camper. Which reminds me. If Cecilia were to go on a camping trip, all she would need to survive is her insatiable desire to be groped and a pair of strappy heels. If you think I'm joking, listen to what one of the rapists utters as he and his not-so merry band of fellow rapists are chasing Cecilia through the forest in the latter half of the film. He says something to the effect of: "How is she able to run so fast in high heels?"

 

 

Oh, stupid rapist. Your need to violate the personal space of others has obviously warped your ability to think objectively. Anyone with any sense can clearly see that Cecilia has been running in strappy high heels for most of her life. It doesn't matter if she's sleeping, swimming, bathing, horse back riding, seducing monobrowed chauffeurs, or fleeing the grabbing hands of undesirable creatures like you, the thickness of Cecilia's calves are always in the process of being accentuated to the point of shapely madness by a pair of strappy high heels.
 

 

The sight of flowers blooming and trees swaying in the wind set to the sound of birds chirping and synths...synthing, can mean only one thing: a Jess Franco film is about to commence. And I don't need to tell you that the words "A Jess Franco Film" are one of the few things left that bring me joy in this world. Whenever I see his name, or, as is in most cases, one of his many pseudonyms, appear on-screen, a wave of comfort washes over me, as I know my brain and genitals are in the hands of a master. Zooming in on the breathtaking beauty of the film's natural splendour for an extended period of time, when suddenly, shots of statues begin to enter the frame. Was this Jess Franco's way of informing us that humanity (the ones who made the statues) and nature (the ones who made the flowers and trees) co-exist with one another?  Who knows. What I do know is that we're about to meet Cecilia (Muriel Montossé) and I can hardly contain my excitement.
 

  

Wearing a pink dress, the kind that looks like it was specifically designed to be pulled off in a hurry, Cecilia runs towards her limousine, greets her driver Kam (José Valero), and proceeds to get in the back. And wouldn't you know, Cecilia, after putting up the divider window, takes off her pink dress like it weren't even there. Lounging in a position that was clearly chosen to maximize her innate legginess, Cecilia caresses the contours of her legs in an erotic manner. In order to indicate how long Cece's legs are, more hair is added to Kam's unibrow each time we see it in the rear view mirror. What I'm trying to say is: it takes so long for her to run her hand from one end of her leg to the other, that his eyebrows seem to become thicker and bushier between each leg stroke. And as far as using irregular eyebrow hair to signify leg length, I thought the scene was an unequivocal success.

 

Realizing that Kam is taking her away from her house (he's supposed to be driving her home), Cecilia makes her objection known. But it's too late, Kam tells her that he's quitting, stops the car, and let's his brothers (who were lurking in the woods) ravish her in the back seat. Struggling at first, Cecilia seems to be moaning with pleasure by the time the partially clothed humping  starts. After washing the sex smell from her body in a pond covered with lily pads, Cecilia drives the limousine (remember, her driver quit) back to the spacious mansion she shares with her husband Andre (Antonio Mayans) and their male staff (who all wear headbands for some reason). The scene where Cecelia gets out the limo completely naked, except, of course, for a pair of pink strappy heels, is important because it gives us our first view of Muriel Montossé standing upright without any clothes on.

 

  

Making her way towards the house, the sight of Muriel walking in nothing but strappy heels was simply glorious. Seriously, the manner in which her sturdy legs pounded against the crude concrete walkway was unreal. As she was walking, I couldn't help but notice that each step caused her ample backside to undulate in a way that was both pleasing and awe-inspiring. Now, given the thundering display we just witnessed, I found it a tad strange that Andre felt it necessary to carry Cecilia the rest of the way. I mean, didn't he just see the calve-tightening clinic that just transpired before him on the walkway? Either way, Andre carries Cecilia inside, puts her on the bed, and, after disrobing, places the quivering contents located on the other side of his hirsute hindquarters between her creamy thighs.
 

 

The next morning, Andre is upset when he finds out what Kam's brothers did to his wife in the backseat of his limo. Out on a terrace overlooking their magnificent garden, Cecilia paces back and forth while she listens to Andre complain about her whorish lifestyle. Wearing a conical hat, a black and white Asian-style shirt dress, and a pair of white strappy heels (the perfect ensemble for pacing in a mist-laden paradise as a saxophone gently toots in the background), Cecilia tries to explain that she needs to have rough sex with other men. (Did anyone else notice that her pink lipstick matched the petunias?)
 

 

It should be noted that a flashback to when Cecilia and Andre first met two years ago at a Parisian party occurs during a lull in the their conversation on the terrace. Sure, it doesn't give us any fresh insight into the genesis of their relationship–they're introduced by her uncle (Olivier Mathot) and an attractive woman in orange (France Lomay), and appear to like each other almost immediately–but we do get to see the largeness of Muriel Montossé's bum ensnared in a slit-heavy black and white dress.

    

 

Judging by the way Andre snubs Cecilia after they return from horseback riding, it would that he's still upset over the backseat limo rape. Determined to convince her husband that sex is different than love, she concocts a cheeky scheme involving her friend Antonio (Antonio de Cabo), an older gentlemen Cecilia calls her "grandmother," and Antonio's unnamed girlfriend (Ana Paula), an afro-sporting goddess with Uhurian thighs. The idea is for Antonio's girl to seduce Andre while Cecilia is putting her "grandmother" to bed. And you know Cecilia means business by the fact that she's wearing a blonde bob wig and has sprinkled glitter all over his chest and shoulders. Anyway, deliberately catching them in the act, Cecilia, who is still rocking the pink lipstick (her fingernails, by the way, are pink as well), shows up naked at their door and eventually takes over for Antonio's girlfriend as the primary source for Andre's corporal pleasure (her white strappy heeled feet kick the air like an agitated mule as he bombards her pelvic area with a generous helping of tempur pedict thrusts).
 

 

Starting off the film as merely his wife, Cecilia is now Andre's mistress and confidante. Yep, it appears that her plan has worked, as she finds that Andre is getting into this whole open marriage thing. A close up shot of a lump-free crotch encased in a pair of white bikini bottoms can only mean one thing, it's time for Lina Romay make her presence felt in the Cecilia universe. Sunning herself on the deck of a sail boat, Lina plays a cabaret performer whose act involves having sex with her teenage son. Lying motionless as the sun's rays pierce her exquisite curves, Lina half listens to Cecilia (whose stunning frame is sheathed in a black one-piece bathing suit) and Andre as they blather on and on about their relationship ("our love will only grow stronger").
 

 

When they're back on dry land, Lina and her son George (Antonio Vasco) give Cecilia, Andre, Antonio, and Antonio's girlfriend a sneak preview of their incestuous stage show. Swaying her hips in a pink full length gown as she stands before her son (whose eyelids, by the way, have been painted with dots that make him look like his eyes are open when they are in fact closed), Lina proceeds to suck his thumb as some dude wearing a blindfold plays a rudimentary harp. Eventually working her way down to his penis (removing her clothing along the way), Lina ends the show by writhing naked on the shag carpeting. Which, in case you don't know, is her subtle way inviting the audience, which, of course, includes Cecilia, who's wearing a leopard print headband, to mock feast on the moist folds of her well-rounded flesh.

 

 

Fans of France Lomay (Oasis of the Zombies) will want to stick around for the swanky party scene that takes place at the exact same location where Cecilia and Andre first met. Why? Well, if you loved the sight of France schmoozing in an orange dress, you'll definitely want to see her schmooze in a pink dress. This particular party scene, the one where France wears a pink dress, is also worth checking out for the moment when an author tells a group of hangers-on that her novel "Neither Virgin nor Martyr" was inspired by her first abortion.
 

 

You can't help but be impressed by Muriel Montossé as the titular Cecilia, as every gesture she makes is steeped in eroticism. This movement themed saturation hits its boiling point when she finds herself all alone in the house. When smelling flowers in nothing but strappy heels starts to lose its appeal, she takes a bath. While staring out the window in a nightie and a pair of, it should, by now, go without saying, strappy heels, the phone rings. It's Andre, and apparently he's going to be busy for the next couple of days. How much longer do you expect Cecilia to wander the corridors of her spacious mansion? Are you asking me? If you are, I have to say, I could watch Muriel Montossé do pretty much anything for an inordinate amount of time.

      

 

Tired of waiting for her waiting for her husband to come home, Cecilia decides that she needs some cock. Who am I kidding? She needs lots of cock, and finds it waiting for her at a cave-like structure where Kam's brothers hang out. The first thing that shocked me about this scene, which we'll call, "Cecilia's Impromptu Cave Gangbang," was that she wore black pumps for the occasion. That's right, she's put the strappy heels away. I guess she figured that the strappy heels wouldn't really go with her black stockings (wrong as she may be, I respect her decision). At any rate, she gets up on the table, and removes her ruffled prom dress to reveal a black garter belt, which is digging into her child-bearing hips like you wouldn't believe. Kicking away her dress in an authoritative manner, Cecilia invites Kam's two brothers and their two friends have their way with her.

 

 

Satisfied by how the gangbang turned out, Cecilia decides to treat herself by going horseback riding on the beach. Whoa! I'm no gynecologist, but horseback riding, especially naked horseback riding, is the last activity I'd recommend to someone who has just participated in a gangbang. In her defense, it was the early 1980s. What does that mean? Well, most people back then lacked, what I like to call, "crotch cognizance," a state of mind where you are always aware of what your genitals, and, I guess, you could include your anus in this specific mindset, are up to at any given moment.
 

 

Trees, flowers, synths, strappy heels, black stockings (worn with black pumps), and Muriel Montossé, that's all I really need when it comes to cinema. And, as it turns out, Jess Franco's Cecilia was able to provide all of them in equal measure; well, more black stockings would have nice, but I digress. Now, I don't usually express the desire to go anywhere–you know as far as travelling the world goes. However, Sintra, Portugal is a little different in that regard, as it seemed to capture my imagination. Which is a rare occurrence. I mean, most films leave me feeling a sense of shame; like, why did I just watch that? But this film was like receiving a tonic, one that not only promoted the power of love, but seems to enrich the lives of everyone who happens to find themselves under its unsavoury spell.

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