Exorcism (Jess Franco, 1975)

This has to be some sort of world record. Maybe someone who has seen more Jess Franco films than I have can enlighten me, but this particular movie has Lina Romay's outstretched vagina onscreen in glorious colour in record time. I mean, the film starts... and... Boom! We have Lina Romay's outstretched vagina onscreen. Oh, and in case you're wondering, the reason I attached the word "outstretched" to Lina Romay's vagina is because her vagina seems to be leaning forward. It's almost as if it craves attention. Keeping with the record theme, I think this film, which, by the way, is called Exorcism (a.k.a. L'éventreur de Notre-Dame), has the record for the fastest appearance of Jess Franco regular Monica Swinn, one of the most alluring actresses to grace the Jess Franco universe. Get this, we get Monica Swinn in just over a minute. I know, you're thinking to yourself: But Monica Swinn's bedroom sadist character doesn't appear until much later in the film. Yeah, but you're forgetting that I'm an expert when it comes to spotting Monica Swinn in Jess Franco movies. If you look closely, you'll spot Monica Swinn's luminous visage in the audience during the film's first black mass sequence.

Watching Lina Romay's bound organic structure getting whipped by Nadine Pascal (credited here as "Lynn Monteil"), Monica Swinn stares at the mock cruelty transpiring before her with a Euro-tinged sense of alabaster wonder.

You also see her sitting in the audience during the film's second black mass sequence (unfortunately, she doesn't get a close up this time around).

Her third appearance takes place at a post-black mass orgy, where all the attendees writhe around with one another on the floor. In typical Monica Swinn fashion, she manages to upstage everyone by choosing to wear white leather stockings with one of the most complicated garter systems I've ever encountered. Again, I'm sad to report, we don't get a close up of her during the orgy scene. Well, not a close up that didn't have some guy's hairy, lumpy butt in the frame as well. Come on, all you degenerate old farts at the post-black mass orgy, I'm trying bask in Monica Swinn's not-so delicate beauty over here. So, would you mind getting your tired-looking asses out of my face? Thanks.

What's that? You want me to tell you more about this so-called complicated garter system that Monica Swinn was operating? Oh, don't worry, I will in a minute, as she wears the same garter system in her forth and final scene, too. It's just that I don't want this review to turn into an episode of Where in the World Is Monica Swinn? In other words, I like would to explore every nook and cranny this motion picture has to offer. And believe me, this film has plenty of nooks and crannies.

Oh, and when I say, "nooks and crannies," I'm talking about vaginas.

Here's an amazing statistic for you: There are a total of six actresses in this movie with speaking parts, and all six expose their lady parts at some point over the course of this film. Meaning, Jess Franco's Exorcism is, no matter what I say, worth watching.

However, was there ever any doubt? I mean, Jess Franco plays a sadomasochistic defrocked priest who stabs women to death he thinks are possessed by The Devil. And if that wasn't enough, he writes erotic essays for a magazine called, Dagger and Garter Weekly. See what I mean? Ahhh! That's too good to be true. Dagger and Garter Weekly!!!

Okay, let's get things back on track by starting at the beginning. Opening on a shot of Anne (Lina Romay, credited here as "Rosa Almirall") strapped sort of naked (she's wearing skintight knee-high black boots) to an x-shaped crucifix. Suddenly, a tall woman with short blonde hair enters the room. Wearing boots, a belt, leather bracelets and a black collar, Rose (Nadine Pascal) begins to whip Anne. It's at this moment we realize that they're performing before a live audience.

When she's done whipping her, the tall blonde with the big bum (the belt around her waist clings to her buttocks for dear life) kills a dove and begins to smear its blood all over her body. When she decides that she's smeared enough, she then smears what's left all over the lash-marked brunette, who cries of agony periodically fill the air of the musty, dungeon-like performance space.

Whips, chains, vaginas, big booties and dove blood, as far as opening scenes go, you can't get any better than this. Imagine how much simpler life would be if every film opened like this. Anyway, the tall blonde stabs the regular-size brunette with a knife.

After taking a bow, and, no doubt, washing the dove blood that has started to congeal in her nooks and crannies (i.e. her vagina and vagina), we see Anne at the office of Venus Publications. (Don't tell me, they produce Dagger and Garter Weekly?) Yep, they sure do. (Awesome. Carry on.) Hanging out with Venus head honcho, Pierre de Franval (Pierre Taylou), Anne apparently works there as a... I'm not sure. It doesn't matter, as look who just walked in. Why, it's Jess Franco.

Playing Mathis Vogel, Jess Franco is a freelance writer who has just finished an essay for an upcoming issue called "Torture Chambers of the Inquisition."

Now, I don't know what motivated him to do this, but Vogel pretends to shut the door and begins to eavesdrop on Anne and Pierre's conversation. After making a couple of playful jabs at his expense, Anne and Pierre start talking about staging another black mass. While it's obvious to any normal human being that they're joking about it being a real black mass, Vogel is a being who is anything but normal.

As Anne, Rose and Pierre make plans for their next black mass show, plans that involve a bartender named Martine (Catherine Lafferière), Vogel rents an apartment across the street from where Anne and Rose live.

You could say, Vogel rented the apartment across from Anne and Rose to keep tabs on their black mass activities. You could also say, Vogel wants to see Rose prance about in black pantyhose. Either way, he's doing a bit of both, as he keeps tabs on Anne and Rose, and, watches Rose prance about in black pantyhose. Defrocked priests with severe mental problems are renowned for their ability to multitask in a pinch.

What's that? What was Lina Romay doing as Nadine Pascal gave us a bird's-eye view of her wonderfully thick lower half encased in black pantyhose? What do you think she was doing? She was waving her cunt around with reckless abandon. Duh.

If you look carefully, you'll notice that one of Nadine Pascal's earrings goes flying off when she removes her top. Like a true professional, Nadine plays it cool and continues on with the scene like nothing happened (even though it's clear that she knew one of her earrings went flying off while she disrobed).

Picking up a "whore" at a local bar, Vogel takes her home and prepares to exorcise her demons. After grilling the woman (played by Caroline Rivière, I think) about the black masses that take place in the neighbourhood at knife point, Vogel chains her against a mirror and then stabs her to death.

Taking what he learned from the dead whore with the great face, Vogel starts lurking around those in the fake black mass community. And, after getting a sense of this community via lurking, he begins picking them off one by one.  This alerts the attention of a police detective named Inspector Tanner (Olivier Mathot) and his fresh-faced partner Malou (Roger Germanes); the latter figures out the case almost instantly, but Tanner dismisses his theory as nonsense.

My favourite of Vogel's many confrontations with the members of the fake black mass community is when he visits Monica Swinn's Maria Theresa, a sexy sadist for hire.

However, it's the scene before Vogel confronts Monica Swinn that actually had me all in a tizzy.

Lying on her bed in a long black dress with black stockings, Monica Swinn is approached by an old man who is, according to Monica, a dirty pig, a vicious old sadist, a disgusting little lecher, a homosexual, a leper's sore, a swine, a shit-eater and a degenerate.

As she's telling the old man these things, he's busy kissing her black stocking covered knees. "You make me want to vomit... I hate you!" she shouts at him as she orders him to remove his clothes.

Even though he only managed to partially open her dress, we can clearly see that Monica Swinn is employing a complicated garter system to hold up her black stockings. Careening across her pale skin like spider-webs, this garter system, as I said earlier, is unlike anything I've ever seen before.

Straddling the naked old man with the full-force of her sinewy undercarriage, Monica Swinn rides his withered cock while hurling insults at him at a rapid rate of speed.

Dying like she lived, with her ass in the air, Monica Swinn gives her most satisfying performance in a Jess Franco film yet. Don't get me wrong, her turn as the cruel warden in Barbed Wire Dolls is classic Swinn. It's just that her work in Exorcism solidifies her status as the Euro sex goddess she really is.

Not to be out done in the solidifying department, but I think Exorcism features Jess Franco's finest performance as an actor. Whether lurking in the shadows or stabbing naked chicks in the stomach, Franco is brilliant as the defrocked priest/freelance writer for Dagger and Garter Weekly/serial killer. Seriously, I can't picture any other actor dragging an unconscious, scantily clad Lina Romay across the city without anyone noticing. At any rate, if you purchase/rent the newish DVD from Redemption, you'll get Demoniac, a short, more horror-centric version of Exorcism. Personally, I would avoid this version, as it omits the Monica Swinn scene with the "disgusting little lecher," and features zero vagina shots.

The Hot Nights of Linda (Jess Franco, 1975)

You're initial thought might be, as you begin to enjoy Jess Franco's The Hot Nights of Night (a.k.a. But Who Raped Linda?), how much longer do we have to watch Alice Arno–who is, to the best of my knowledge, not wearing nylons on her shapely, Arno-ian legs–walk around Paris, France in a bulky winter coat? However, once she has finished walking around Paris, France and arrives at the location of her new job, you will no doubt start to miss the streets of Paris, France. In fact, you will probably wish they would cut to anywhere in the world after you have spent a day or two with the Steiner family in their Greek-style castle/home on the ocean, or was it on the sea? No matter, the film, like the best Jess Franco's films, manages to create a world unto itself. You see, by ignoring what's going on beyond the walls of the film's primary location, the film slowly begins to develop its own unique ecosystem. And if, say, you were to own a noodle factory similar to mine, the first thought you would have is: Why can't I get a job at a Greek-style castle/home where a nympho-virgin prances about in black stockings and where said nympho-virgins eat penis-shaped fruit in an erotic fashion? And after that thought had subsided, your second would most likely be: Are the women in this film writhing on their beds in order to escape their dreary existences or are their backs simply itchy?

First of all, there's nothing dreary about living in a Greek-style castle/home with a nympho-virgin. (Yeah, maybe for you, but what about the nympho-virgin? Don't you think she wants more out of life?) And secondly, you're kinda right. They do want to escape. And best way to do so is to grind your naked body into the bed your currently lying on.

(Are you sure that's the best way? I mean, wouldn't the front door be a more effective way to escape?) It's true, doors are a terrific root to go when trying to leave somewhere (as someone who has used doors all his life, I can attest that what this person just said is indeed a factual statement), but The Hot Nights of Linda isn't about providing easy ways out, it's a... (Wait, let me guess, is it a psycho-sexual maelstrom of perverted proportions?) Hell yeah. That's exactly what is.

Let's see how that looks when written out as a semi-proper sentence: "The Hot Nights of Linda is a psycho-sexual maelstrom of perverted proportions." - Yum-Yum, House of Self-Indulgence

Oh, yeah. We have a winner. Put that sucker on the box, baby. Do it. What are you waiting for?

What do you mean Severin Films isn't going to put that quote on the back of their handsomely produced The Hot Nights of Linda Blu-Ray + DVD Combo Pack? You're not going to come across a better blurb than that. What's that? Uh-uh, I see. Well, it would seem the reason my quote is nowhere to found on the artwork of the combo pack is because it's already in stores. Meaning, I'm a little too late. *sniff*

Anyway, getting back to grinding and writhing. Even though it's physically impossible to grind your way to freedom by writhing on your bed without any clothes on, the message you are sending to the world is loud and clear.

While the primary purpose for the all writhing is no doubt connected to the desire to flee, you could argue that a large chunk of the writhing has a lot to do with pent-up sexual frustration. Speaking from personal experience, whenever I find myself writhing in the nude, it usually has nothing to do with wanting to getaway and everything to do with heterosexual ineptitude.

(Enough about writhing, what's this film actually about and is it any good?) Uh, yeah, about that. Believe or not, but those are some pretty tough questions you're asking there, budski. I mean, I could try to explain the film's plot. But then again, I don't want to damage my brain while doing so. As for being good. What does "good" even mean? Seriously, can you tell me?

(I'm sorry, pal. I can't help you there. What I can tell you is, if you patiently wade through this film's...) "psycho-sexual maelstrom of perverted proportions"? (Yeah, that... you'll be generously rewarded with the sight of Lina Romay sunbathing in the nude, Lina Romay peeling and sort of eating a banana, and Lina Romay putting on black stockings--roll them up into a little ball and slip them onto your sturdy legs, you brown-eyed harlot.)

If you watch Les Nuits Brûlantes de Linda, a rare cut of the film that comes with the Severin Films Blu-Ray + DVD Combo Pack (limited to the first 2500 copies), you will be generously rewarded with the sight of Lina Romay sucking on some retards uncut cock, Lina Romay performing cunnilingus on a couple of well-made cunts, and Lina Romay allowing the genitals attached to some retard spew their probably retarded load all over her stomach. Oh, and when I say, "retard" and "retarded," I don't mean it in a Lindsay Lohan sort of way, the retard in question is actually retarded.

The best part about this particular cut of the film is the fact that the scene where Lina Romay puts on black stockings includes some garter belt adjustment--the softcore version omits the garter belt adjustment scene all-together. (Are you sure the best part of this particular cut wasn't the sight of Lina Romay wiping up a dollop of the retard's snot-like jizz with her hand and proceeding to consume with her mouth?) Oh, I'm sure. It should go without saying, but garter belt adjustment is way hotter than eating pearly droplets of spunk.

In order to not cause any unnecessary confusion, I'll stick to referencing to the softcore cut of the film from now on. Even though, deep down, I kinda prefer the hardcore version. (Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, Lina Romay rapes her invalid cousin with a banana in the hardcore version.) A banana, eh? You know what? I'll mention both. Let unnecessary confusion reign!

If you're wondering where Alice Arno fits in all this... What's that? You weren't wondering that. I see. Well, either way, she plays Marie-France Bertrand, and she gets a job working as a nurse/teacher at the home of Radic Steiner (Paul Muller), who lives with his invalid daughter Linda (Verónica Llimera from Tombs of the Blind Dead), his sex maniac niece Olivia (Lina Romay) and Abdul (Pierre Taylou), their retarded houseboy.

Since the sex scenes in the non-hardcore don't take up as much time, the running time needs to be padded with filler. And that's where a photographer (Catherine Lafferière, who played the sex-crazed mental patient in black hold up stockings in Lorna the Exorcist) and a detective (Richard Bigotini) come in. They appear onscreen every now and then. But don't ask me what their connection to the main plot of the film is, cause I haven't the slightest idea. Well, that's not entirely true, I have a general idea, but it's not really worth getting into.

The only aspect of this subplot that held my interest was when we get a Jess Franco orchestrated close up of Catherine Lafferière's creamy thighs as she is attempting to climb a fence.

Highlights of the softcore version include: the scene where Alice Arno meets Lina Romay for the very first time. Filing her toenails, smoking a cigarette, and drinking Champagne (the girl knows how to multitask), Lina tells Alice that life in this town is monotonous and dull (hence the reason she writhes so much). What makes the scene so great is that Lina and Alice stare at each with a fiery intensity.

You gotta love the film noirish scene where Lina and Alice chat while smoking.

And the scene where Lina, who is wearing black boots, toys with Abdul by peeling a banana in a–you guessed it–erotic manner. You probably already know this, but Lina Romay does everything in this movie in a manner that could be construed as erotic. (Everything?) Yeah, you heard me, everything.

These three scenes are not in the hardcore version, so... enjoy them, I guess, because nothing in the hardcore version comes close to topping them in terms of  non-threatening titillation.

My only complaint, besides the boring bits, is the fact that the lovely Monica Swinn's part as Lorna, Paul Muller's dead wife, is so skimpy. There's a scene where she is having straightforward bedroom intercourse with her lover while wearing back hold up stockings, but the lighting is so dark, you can't really appreciate the shape of Monica's Jess Franco-approved curves.

 

Lorna The Exorcist (Jess Franco, 1974)

Resting her head in the vicinity of her intended victim's voracious vagina, a naive young brunette takes one last deep breath before beginning to explore the crevice-laden riches that lay beyond the generous mounds of curly blonde pubic hair with the rose-tinted contours of her immaculate face. Using the tongue that's been growing steadily in her oral cavity ever since she was born, a tongue that she has mostly used, up until this point, to taste sugary sweets, the naive young brunette, whose conduct is becoming more devilish the closer she comes to hitting minge-based pay-dirt, gingerly pokes around the outer layer of the festering sheath-like structure in search of hypothetical sustenance. Hi. In case you haven't figured it out yet, I am, in my own convoluted way, attempting to describe a scene that occurs in Lorna The Exorcist, yet another deliriously awesome film by Jess Franco that had me repeatedly, much like the impish brunette with the inquisitive tongue was doing during her cunnilingual refresher course, gasping for clean air. Lack of oxygen, notwithstanding, whenever I find myself in the presence of a Jess Franco film, a sense of ease seems to wash over my normally prickly aura. There's something about his films that cause me to become entirely transfixed by whatever is occurring onscreen. Whether it's the sight of a crazed brunette woman writhing on her bed as a result of her wonderfully unshaven crotch being inundated by an army of tiny cunt-conjured crabs or a sequence that features a crazed brunette woman in black hold-up stockings writhing on her bed for different, non-cunt crab-related reasons all-together, I feel as if Jess Franco knows exactly what my mind wants to see. His camera never fails to focus on what matters, and in this film, his camera always right on target.

 

 

As usual, the film opens with a number of close-up shots of nature (leaves and lemons mostly this time around). Set to the hypnotic music of classical guitarist André Bénichou, we're quickly ushered inside where we find a curly-haired slinky blonde woman not wearing pants. She is, however, wearing a lacy top (the kind that causes one to reveal the contents of their crotches whenever they shrug their shoulders or reach erotically for a jar of molasses that is just out of reach). Oh, and she's wearing a lot of eye makeup, too.

 

Lying on the bed, the slinky blonde begins to perform self-massage on herself. When the music starts to get even more hypnotic, that's Lina Romay's cue to enter the fornicating fray. Of course, she doesn't enter via the bedroom door. Don't be silly. She sort of just appears out from behind some curtains. Slowly approaching the slinky blonde, who is still groping her thighs with a shitload of gusto, Lina, her long mane of jet black hair no doubt causing the slinky blonde's vagina to become engorged with an ill-defined amount of wetness, offers her thumb as a corporeal gift.

After the slinky blonde has sucked her thumb to the point where its taste has become commonplace (even though it's been four days, I can still taste your thumb in my mouth), Lina rests her head right near the area where her pussy doesn't have anatomical jurisdiction. Her face might be out of pussy bounds, but that doesn't mean her tongue can't cross over to the pussy side of the tracks. And that's exactly what she does.
 

The music, the eye makeup, the curly hair-straight hair dichotomy, the taut flesh, the uncompromising camera angles, and the pussies all conspire to elevate this particular opening sequence into a mind-blowing work of erotic art.

 

It would seem that what we just watched was a sappho-drenched dream transmitted directly from the mind of Linda Mariel (Lina Romay), the daughter of a rich business man. Snapping out her trance-like state, Linda, who is wearing a modest light blue turtleneck, declares that she is bored. No matter. Excited about the prospect of celebrating her eighteenth birthday in Saint-Tropez, Linda is practically giddy. Suddenly, the telephone rings. Her mother Marianne (Jacqueline Laurent) answers it and tells her father Patrick (Guy Delorme) that it's for him. Who is it, he asks. Why, it's a "sexy female." That's weird, he probably thought to himself. I wasn't expecting a call from a "sexy female." His playful demenour quickly turns serious as the voice on the other end of the line identifies herself as "Lorna." Holy crap.

 

Meanwhile, at a clinic in another part of the country, black hold-up stockings and madness have a date with titillation, and prospects look very sexy. Sitting on her bed in a seductive manner, an unnamed brunette (Catherine Lafferière) is ripping pages out of a fashion magazine (judging by the size and the quality of the photos it looked like an issue of Vogue). Anyway, summoned by the clinic's chief doctoring guy (Jess Franco), the unnamed brunette is brought into his office sans panties; and like the slinky blonde in the opening scene, every time she raises her arms, we catch a brief glimpse of her vagina. Determined to find out who she is, the doctor demands that she tell him who commands her (he seems to think she is under the influence of an unseen entity).

 

 

While I loved the way her creamy, European thighs seem to glow effervescently between the blackness of her hold-up stockings and the harshness of her gunmetal dress shirt, someone get this woman some panties.    

 

 

Brought back to her room in a pantie-less heap, the unnamed brunette starts to, you guessed it, writhe around on her bed. Suddenly, she senses someone else in the room with her. I wonder if it's the same woman from Linda's dream. Yes, it is. It's Lorna! Oh, we don't see her, but I could totally feel her presence.
 

 

Angry when she finds out her father isn't taking her Saint-Tropez, Linda throws a hissy fit. Informing her daughter that eighteen year-olds don't throw hissy fits, Patrick convinces Linda that they must go to Camargue, specifically the commune of La Grande-Motte. Why must they go there? Well, that's where Lorna wants them to go. You see, as we will soon find out, there's a bit of a history between Patrick and the mysterious Lorna. And judging by the quickness in which Patrick changes his plans, Lorna, much like the unnamed brunette in the black hold-up stockings, has a profound hold on him.
 

 

Replete with provocative writhing, black hold-up stockings, and crazy eye makeup, you wouldn't think Lorna the Exorcist would need anything else to help bolster its status an alluring work of transgressive art. But that's where you would be wrong. A character onto itself, La Grande-Motte is a truly bizarre place. Giving the film an added sense of uneasiness, the pyramid-shaped hotels (designed by Jean Balladur) that dot the landscape of the seaside resort seem to play tricks on not only the viewer, but the characters as well, especially Patrick, who seems overwhelmed by the imposing nature of the resort's so-called "utopian architecture."
 

 

If you thought the hotels looked kooky from the outside, you should see what they look like on the inside; it's almost as if the rooms of the hotel were designed for a science fiction film. Either way, Patrick, Marianne, and Linda seem happy with their new digs. No doubt feeling a tad icky after travelling all this way (her legs and feet must be drenched in sweat after being cooped up in those knee-high leather boots for such a long period of time), Linda decides to take a bath. As she's soaping herself up, this eerie music starts to throb on the soundtrack. Which can only mean one thing, it's time yet again for Lorna make her presence felt. And she does so by getting in the tub with her. Licking Linda's birthday pussy with the care and dedication of a pussy connoisseur, Lorna straddles Linda in a manner that allows both their pussies to be licked simultaneously.
 

 

Unlike when we first met her during the film's opening scene, Lorna now has straight blonde hair and has applied a thick coat of green eye makeup to her ocular infrastructure. Fashion changes aside, Lorna has not asked Patrick to come here to show him her new look, she's here to collect Linda. What do you mean "collect Linda"? Well, apparently a deal was made, a Faustian deal, eighteen years ago, and Lorna is ready to collect her reward. After hounding him via the telephone, Lorna finally meets Patrick face-to-face. Having not seen each other in eighteen years, Patrick is not surprised at all to find that Lorna hasn't changed one bit since their last meeting.

 

Even though he agreed under duress (he was about to insert his penis into her vagina and obviously wasn't thinking straight), Lorna still expects Patrick to keep his end of the bargain; which is to give her his first born daughter when she turns eighteen. Despite owing his lavish lifestyle to Lorna (she made him incredibly wealthy after the deal was made), Patrick has no intention of giving his daughter to her (he's so determined that he asks the hotel manager to get him a gun). In order to prove that she's serious about wanting to possess Linda on her eighteenth birthday, Lorna instructs her man servant (Howard Vernon) to beat Patrick with a seashell.

 

Just in case we were starting to forget about the unnamed brunette in black hold-up stockings, Jess Franco periodically provides us with updates on how she's doing. As expected, her writhing has gotten more wiggly than ever, and she's starting to hallucinate. But on the positive side of things, her black hold-up stockings are holding up quite nicely.
 

 

Waking up in the harbour, Patrick, who is helped by a leggy onlooker smoking a cigarette, staggers back to hotel room. Battered and bruised, Patrick is relieved to find his wife (looking magnifique in an orange dress that sort of matches the walls of their room) and daughter safe and sound. Telling a concerned Marianne that there's a strange woman from his past bent on their destruction, Patrick doubles down (his gun has finally arrived). Which is ironic, since doubling down is what got him in all this trouble to begin with (Lorna helped Patrick, a degenerate gambler at the time, win big at the roulette table). 
 

 

It's a good thing the gun he ordered has arrived, because all hell is about to break loose. Now, in the majority movies, the expression "all hell is about to break loose" has come to mean an upswing in plot-based action. However, in the Lorna the Exorcist universe, it means vaginal crabs and odd-looking dildos smeared with hymen blood. 

 

Lavishing praise Lina Romay has become second nature to me; so much so, that her fearless, unselfconscious style of acting is the gold standard in which to judge gauge a performer's moxie. The slinky blonde, whose common sounding name does not do her unique aura justice, is the real power behind Lorna the Exorcist throne. Exuding a palpable stench that bled uncut eroticism, Pamela Stanford is a camp-adjacent delight as the titular troublemaker. Unflinching in the face of the exquisite largeness of Lina's bulbous behind, Pamela manages to create an air mystery around her character. Sure, the liberally applied green eye makeup helped a great deal in making us believe that a slinky blonde could cause brunettes the world over to writhe in erotic agony, but if you look past the makeup, you'll notice that Pamela's gaze is mesmerizing.
 

 

Oozing atmosphere like it were a second-rate bodily function, Lorna The Exorcist isn't a film you merely watch with your eyes, it's an all-consuming experience that repeatedly plunges your face, whether you want it to or not, into the dark recesses of your petrified subconscious. The fact that all the scenes take place during the day seemed to add to the weirdness, not diminish it, as you might expect. It also helped that the buildings all looked like the were spawned out of some kind of geometric nightmare. Starting with a muff diving bang and ending with an extended shot of what has to be the gape-iest maw in film history, Jess Franco has inadvertently fashioned an erotic horror masterpiece for the ages.

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