Snakewoman (Jess Franco, 2005)

First off, I think it's a tad weird to watch a Jess Franco film where things like, mobile phones and computers not only exist, but are actually used. And in the case of Snakewoman, rather frequently (seeing people pump gas was weird, too). It's weird because people in Jess Franco movies don't usually communicate via technology, they do so, for the most part, by writhing. That's right, I said, writhing. What you do is, you take off all your clothes (if, of course, you're wearing stockings, you keep those on... if you don't I will hunt you down and murder you... just kidding... but seriously, don't take them off). At any rate, once you've removed your clothes, lie down on a bed (or a couch/sectional) and start writhing. And depending on the gusto of your writhing, you should be communicating with sex-starved vampire lesbians with boyish hips in no time. What's that? What if you don't want to communicate with sex-starved vampire lesbians with boyish hips? Don't be silly. I know you're simply playing devil's advocate, but I don't think there's a man, woman or child on this earth who doesn't want their clit eaten out by a sex-starved vampire lesbian with boyish hips. Oh, and when I say "eaten out," I'm not kidding around, she will eat your motherfucking clit... for lunch, breakfast and dinner. I know, you're thinking to yourself: But Yum-Yum, I don't have a clit. You don't, eh? Do you see that skin-covered protuberance dangling from the middle portion of your blotch-covered crotch? Well, that's your clit, you gutless worm.

Enough with the anatomy lessons. Let's talk about the reason we're all here. If you remember my review of Jess Franco's Broken Dolls, you will recall that I was justifiably fixated with late career Franco starlet Christie Levin. Calling her, "one of the sexiest women ever to appear in the Jess Franco universe," I was obsessed with the saucy minx with the giant eyes and pillowy, bee-stung lips.

Informed by a loyal reader that Christie Levin's turn in Snakewoman (2005) was just as sexy, I made the watching of this film a top priority. Or did I? Sitting on my shelf for what seemed like an eternity, I made severally attempts to watch Snakewoman over the past year. Tired of waiting for Christie Levin to appear on-screen, I found myself fast-forwarding to her scenes out of frustration. And when Christie Levin stopped appearing all-together, I usually turned off the film.

After doing this three or four times, I gave up. That is, until, I found myself with nothing to watch one week (even my emergency stash of Taija Rae porn had dried up). I wondered to myself: What would Snakewoman be like if I watched it at regular speed?

Is it dull, tedious, amateurish and asinine? Sure. I mean, twenty minutes is a pretty long time to watch two lesbians unenthusiastically grope one another. I don't care if one of the lesbians is played by "one of the sexiest women ever to appear in the Jess Franco universe," I've got less important things to do. Nevertheless, the film still manages to project that uniquely oft-kilter Jess Franco vibe that I've come to love.

Utilizing the minimal resources at hand, Jess Franco updates his vampire lesbian trope for a whole new generation. Creating a world where low-key dread and cunnilingial distress collide with one another on a semi-regular basis, the film retains its otherworldliness, or, I should say, its Franconess, despite its obvious deficiencies when it came to just about everything.

The film's plot, like, Vampyros Lesbos, Female Vampire and, to a lesser extent, Lorna The Exorcist, involves a straight-laced woman, Carla (Fata Morgana), becoming enchanted by a female vampire. Even though she's got big vaginas to fill, Carman Montes does a capable job in the role of the film's primary enchantress, an ageless Hungarian flapper with a large snake tattoo that snakes across her torso like a... snake. A staunch lesbian and an even stauncher vampire, Oriana Balasz haunts the grounds of her palatial home, which, from the looks of it, is now some kind of monastery/mental asylum.

Run by a grizzled monk, Franco regular Antonio Mayans, the monastery/mental asylum is where Christie Levin's "Alpha" spends the bulk of her time writhing. Usually seen wandering the around in a long white nightshirt, like, Catherine Lafferière's character in Lorna The Exorcist, is under the spell of a female demon.

The reason Carla is at the home of Oriana Balasz is because the production company she works for would like the purchase the rights to her films and music. Produced mainly during the 20s and 30s, Carla's employers think they can make a fortune off Oriana's erotically-charged work. Of course, things get complicated for Carla, who is, for some reason, wearing a judogi, when she starts seeing the always naked Oriana in her room. Which, as you might expect, distracts her from completing the task at hand. Or maybe it actually helps her, as asking Oriana to sell her the rights to her work directly would probably make things a whole lot easier.

Though, I have to say, she might not be able to hear you given that she's currently gnawing on your clit. Ouch. Anyway, I think that pretty much covers the plot.

While the decision to have Carla wear that judogi-inspired outfit for the bulk of the movie was beyond aggravating (get this woman a frilly white blouse, a tight red leather skirt, a pair of jet black fully-fashioned stockings and some chunky cherry-red stripper heels, stat!), the inclusion of synth flourishes made things a little more tolerable. That's right, Snakewoman is chock-full of synth flourishes. I was taken aback, as I don't usually associate Jess Franco movies with synthesizers.

Even though she only gets two measly close-ups, Christie Levin still manages to ooze resplendence as a mildly deranged lesbian mental patient. Whether ambling through a field of sunflowers or massaging a lesbian vampire's hairy labia, Christie knows what fans of Jess Franco want to see. (And that is?) And that is, attractive women with humongous eyes and bulbous lips teetering on the brink of a total and absolute psycho-sexual breakdown. Only problem being, you're going to have to wade through an awful lot of uneventful nonsense to see Christie Levin do her thing. And trust me, this film is filled with shitloads of uneventful nonsense.

Broken Dolls (Jess Franco, 1999)

First off. Yes, the date is correct. This film was in fact made in 1999. I know, when most of you think of Jess Franco, you automatically think of the 1960s, 1970s, or maybe even the 1980s. But the 1990s?!? While not as prolific as he was in, let's say, the 1970s (he famously made close to ten films in 1974 alone), Jess Franco continued to write and direct films right up until his death in 2013 (Al Pereira vs. the Alligator Ladies being one of the last). The thing that makes a film like Broken Dolls such a dicey situation for a Franco-fanatic like myself is that I've never ventured outside my self-imposed Franco comfort zone. In other words, I've yet to watch a Jess Franco film that was made after 1987. Sitting on my shelf for what seemed like an eternity, Broken Dolls found itself passed over time and time again by other movies. This all changed one day when the two films I had scheduled to review turned out to be unworthy of my unique brand of attention (Fright Night Part 2 and Hemoglobin). And after noticing that my stash of emergency porn was exhausted, I finally decided to take the plunge into the bewildering world of Jess Franco, post-1987. How bad could it be?

Well, I'm happy to report that the bewildering world of Jess Franco, post-1987, is just as bewildering as the bewildering world of Jess Franco, pre-1987. Meaning, the calendar might say 1999, but you wouldn't know it after watching this film. Sure, Jess Franco's muse, Lina Romay, is a little older, but I bet he can scrounge someone up to fill her black hold-up stockings.

(How do you know the actress Jess Franco casts to fill Lina's black hold-up stockings is going to be wearing black hold-up stockings?) Do you really think I would bother to review a Jess Franco film if it didn't have a scene, or multiple scenes, that feature scantily clad Euro-babes prancing around in nothing but black hold-up stockings? (Of course, how stupid of me.)

Her name is Christie Levin (a.k.a. Rosa Muñoz) and she is hands down one of the sexiest women ever to appear in the Jess Franco universe. Which is high praise when you consider the sheer amount of sexy women who have appeared in his movies over the years.

However, I have a particular type, and, after studying and observing her essence for an extended period of time, I eventually came to the conclusion that Christie Levin pretty much encapsulates everything I look for in a Franco siren. The only problem being, she's in Broken Dolls. Don't get me wrong, I appreciated the film's off-kilter tone. It's just that I'm not used to cinema that is this off-kilter. Anyone who has seen the film will back me up on this one.

After opening with your standard Franco-approved coastline porn (random shots of the ocean and the sky), we're quickly informed by an island dweller named Tona (Lina Romay) that what we are actually witnessing is not filler, but an environmental disaster in the making. You see, what may seem like a bunch of tankers simply sailing across the sea, is, to use Tona's words, "a sinister invasion." Disrupting the tranquility of her island paradise, Tona views these metal monstrosities as a threat to her way of life.

I like how Jess Franco manages to incorporate his surroundings into the plots of his films. Obviously noticing that the island (Málaga, Andalucía, Spain) is constantly being passed by huge tankers, he decided to write them into the script.

When she's done cursing the ships, Tona goes to home to have breakfast or lunch (it doesn't matter) with her normal family; one that includes her son, Beatriz (Mavi Tienda) and her daughter, Gina (Christie Levin). Also sitting at the table is Don Martin (Paul Lapidus), her husband, who Tona describes as a "man of mysterious origin." Wait a minute, why is Tona's son wearing a girls top? And how come he doesn't have a bulge in his pants?  Holy crap, Beatriz is a woman! And get this, she's not even Tona's daughter. If you thought that was worthy of a holy crap, I should inform you that Gina isn't Tona's daughter, either. No, she's her husband's mistress. And, like I sort of implied earlier, she has an awesome habit of prancing around the island in nothing but black hold-up stockings, black panties and an Asian-style robe (which, by the way, is never cinched - cinching is for losers).

Even though I figured out Beatriz's gender, we get officially confirmation in the next scene when we see her walking naked on the beach (look, ma, no penis). Did anyone else think it would have been cool to have Beatriz notice a woman named Mimi floating on a pink surfboard during her nude beach stroll? Just me, eh? Weird.

"I want to move away... I don't want to be here... I'm losing my youth and beauty..." You said it, sister (an unhappy Gina is clearly not a fan of living in paradise). Nonetheless, Gina still manages to fulfill her duties as Don Martin's live-in whore with a cock-straddling grace.

Caught masturbating with a couch cushion while watching Gina and Don Martin have sex (or at least have something that vaguely resembled sex), Tona gives a Beatriz a good spanking. "You're a bad girl," Tona tells her after each slap. To which Beatriz responds, "I'm not."

The scene where Gina tries to seduce Herbie (Exequiel Caldas) in an uncinched robe is the real reason this review exists. A sort of handyman/guitar player, Herbie plucks away at his guitar as Gina heaves and thrusts the contents of her hump-worthy undercarriage to-and-fro in an erotic manner.

Now, some might say committing six minutes to a scene where a leggy blonde with mild chin acne in an uncinched robe flirts with some shirtless dweeb with a guitar is overkill, but I'd argue the scene's actually too short.

Clearly possessing a shitload of talent, Christie Levin is a natural performer. It says here that Jess Franco cast Christie in two other movies. Meaning, I might just have to watch more post-1987 Jess Franco movies. Noooo! Seriously, if they're anything like Broken Dolls, I'm in for a treat. Wait, "a treat"? Um, let's just say, I'm in for some serious brain damage. And I don't mean brain damage in a bad way.

Special thanks to Tom Clark for recommending this movie

How to Seduce a Virgin (Jess Franco, 1974)

Somewhere near the middle of Jess Franco's How to Seduce a Virgin (a.k.a. Plaisir à trois), I thought to myself: Hmm, if Lina Romay's character continues to wear the same black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings from start to finish, I'm going to have to declare this to be one of the greatest Jess Franco movies in existence. Which is high praise, especially when you consider the fact that he made eleven films in 1973 (I know, eleven... it's not even funny). And when I saw that Lina Romay's Adèle, the world's most adorable live-in sex slave, was in fact wearing the same black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings throughout the entirety this film, its exalted status was instantly carved in stone. Though, there was a moment when I thought for sure that Lina Romay would be seen without her trademark black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings. It occurs when Lina, along with Alice Arno and Robert Woods, are seen riding horses. When I saw this I was like, well, it was fun while it lasted. I mean, what kind of person wears black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings while horseback riding? It's true, most people don't wear black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings while horseback riding. But, and I think you know what I'm about to say... That's right, Lina Romay isn't most people and don't you forget it.

Cobbling together the same cast that starred in Countess Perverse, and adding Alfred Baillou as Malou the gardener for good measure, the film, like most Jess Franco's work from this period, features a small group of amoral characters living together in an insular universe where nothing is sacred, and your orgasm is paramount.

Hold up, I just remembered something important in relation to Lina Romay's black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings. Are you sitting down? Lina Romay's black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings are covered in runs. And, no, I'm not talking about some slight structural damage that can only be seen from certain angles. Uh-uh, these runs are serious business.

Tearing up and down the entire length of her black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings, Lina Romay's nylon scars were attained not by lounging around in a lackadaisical, albeit, leggy manner, but by engaging in multiple acts of unadulterated debauchery. Each run on her black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings has borne witness to hours of rough lesbian sex, a shitload of impromptu groping, several whipping sessions, and even a smidgeon of mannequin-based cunnilingus. In other words, each run on her black, do-it-yourself stockings tells a story, an erotic story.

Judging by the puzzled looks on some of your faces whenever I say the "do-it-yourself" part in black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings, it's obvious that there are a handful of you out there that don't know exactly what I'm getting at when I say, "do-it-yourself."

If any of you have ever read my reviews of Jess Franco's movies in the past, you probably know exactly what I'm referring to when I say, "do-it-yourself." But for those who haven't, it's simple, really. Instead of using suspenders attached to a garter belt or purchasing stockings with a built-in elastic, Lina Romay's Adèle has elected to use twine to keep her stockings up. Hence, my calling them "do-it-yourself" hold-up stockings. Any questions? Good.

Oh, wait, before I move on. I loved how Adèle didn't bother to cut away the excess pieces of twine that dangled haphazardly from the point where the twine was tied (she clearly used more twine than need be). It was a very shrewd move on someone's part, as Adèle is not the type of person who worries about what other people think. And not having the excess pieces of twine cut away totally reflected the off-kilter mental temperament of her character.

When you can't afford to buy a fancy garter belt or if you happen to think elastic is the work of the Devil: Choose twine.

Declared a "fascinating subject" by her psychiatrist (Joaquín Blanco), Martine Bressac (Alice Arno), who is wearing a green head scarf, is released from a mental institution. How long she was in there is not clear... Or maybe it was clear and I just wasn't paying attention. Either way, told that, "Everything's going to be fine," Martine is driven home by Mathias (Howard Vernon), her chauffeur.

As he's driving her, we get a quick flashback that involves a naked Martine slashing a man's genitals with a razor-blade as he slept. The moment she slashes his junk, we get a nice shot of crimson crotch blood splashing across her stomach. The contrast between Martine's blonde pussy hair and the unnamed man's bright red dick blood was quite beautiful.

This scene proves that Martine's stay at the mental institution was for more than just exhaustion. No, this Martine chick has some serious emotional problems, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Who wants to watch a Jess Franco movie about a bunch of sane, well-balanced people who don't keep posed dead bodies in their basement? I know I sure don't.

Arriving at the Bressac villa, which is in the Canary Islands, Martine is greeted by Malou the gardener and Adèle (Lina Romay), a mute woman who, as we'll soon find out, provides a unique service for the Bressac family. As is the case with her black stockings, Adèle's indigo mini-smock is cinched at the waist with a piece of twine.

Handed a key by Adèle, Martine races downstairs (a flight of stairs without a banister) to visit her "museum." The reason I put "museum" in quotes is because this isn't your average museum. Boasting human subjects who seem frozen in time, Martine inspects The Dirty No Ass Chick (a dirt covered woman with hardly any booty), The Emerald Shirt-Coffin Pose Woman and The Naked Claw Hand Lady.

Itching to add another woman to her collection, Martine cruises the streets in search of hookers. Spotting one in a sea green baby-doll dress carrying an exaggerated poodle purse, Martine tells Mathias to pull over. Convincing her come by the villa to pose for some etchings, Martine wastes little time getting the hooker into her basement.

If you must be a man, looking like Robert Woods the way he does in How to Seduce a Virgin is a start. Not only is he one handsome motherfucker, he's got a great sense of style. He plays Charles Bressac, Martine's husband, and judging by the fact that he sneaks up on Martine moments after she puts the final touches on the dead hooker she just added to her messed up museum, it would seem that he's cool with his wife's unorthodox hobby.

And why wouldn't he be? After all, he's got a bit of an unorthodox hobby as well. Showing a slideshow pertaining to a 21 year-old virgin named Cécile (Tania Busselier), Charles informs Martine that he plans on giving her to her as a present.

Except instead of merely kidnapping her, Charles and Martine plan on luring Cécile to their villa via chicanery. But first they must get a better look at the merchandise. Renting an apartment across the street from her parent's house, Martine, Charles and Adèle spy on Cécile.

While Martine and Charles are checking Cécile out, you'll notice that Lina Romay is sitting exactly the same way Soledad Miranda does throughout Eugénie de Sade. I chose to view this as Jess Franco's subtle tribute to the late actress. It's also fitting because this film was Lina's first substantial role in a Jess Franco movie.

To say that Cécile has a full bush would be an understatement. No, what Cécile is packing between her legs is an exorbitant amount of bush. You could call it a mega-bush, but let's not be crass.

Watching Cécile writhe on her bed in an erotic fashion through a pair of binoculars, Martine and Charles are so excited by what they see, the couple have fully-clothed, European stand-up intercourse.

Somehow managing to convince Cécile's parents into letting their daughter stay with them while they're away, Martine and Charles are this close to capturing their prey.

To celebrate this closeness, Martine and Charles watch Cécile writhe on her bed one more time. If you thought Tania Busselier's erotic writhing was hot the first time around, you ain't seen nothing yet. Adding a belly chain and an anklet to the mix, Cécile is a leggy force of nature, as she squirms and kicks her way to attaining a first-rate orgasm. As Cécile's shapely calves pierce the night air with a resounding swoosh, Charles says, while caressing Martine's nipples, "This girl was born to be corrupted by us."

It looks like I wasn't kidding around when I said Robert Woods' Charles Bressac has a great sense of style. The sight of him wearing purple trousers, a purple jacket, and a yellow shirt while talking on a brown phone was so chic it literally hurt. Things get even more chic later on when we see in a trouser vest combination that boasts a print so insane it defies description. 

No slouch when it comes to fashion, Martine wears a slit-heavy garment at one point that comes close to out-slitting the slit-heavy garment she wore in Countess Perverse.

When Cécile finally arrives at the Bressac villa, Martine tries seduce her while she's taking a bath. This attempt goes well at first, but Martine takes things too far (she allowed Martine to grope her soap-covered tiny breasts, but drew the line at soapy pussy touching). After things cool off a bit, Adèle takes a crack at seducing Cécile and hits vaginal pay-dirt almost immediately.

Whether Martine will get another crack at caressing any of Cécile's comely crevices is hard to say. I do know this, however, in terms of Jess Franco films that are inspired by the works of the Marquis de Sade, you can't beat How to Seduce a Virgin, as all the elements are here. Black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings; black, do-it-yourself hold-up stockings covered in runs; garments with massive slits, an exotic location, mini-dresses, whippings (Martine rewards Adèle for her service by whipping her); lesbianism, a hint of Robert Woods' scrotum (a whiff of balls, if you will); castration; tan pantyhose; creepy gardeners; mannequins, belly chains; anklets; flute music; voyeurism a go-go; and female pubic hair.