Female Vampire (Jess Franco, 1973)

Just as she's about to leave her place of residence, deep in the mist-laden forests of Madeira, to search for sperm and vaginal secretion-based sustenance, Countess Irina of Karlstein does a quick wardrobe check. Giving her body a good once over, she can't help but notice that her long black cape isn't going to provide the dark and foreboding confines of her pound-worthy pussy and her ample grope-friendly breasts the amount of coverage they need in today's cunt and titty averse universe. About to go back into the house to fetch a bra and a pair of panties, Irina stops for a second and thinks to herself: With my lady bits and my tits out in the open like they are at the moment, the people I run into won't misinterpret my intentions. In other words, my organic structure is open for business, feel free to savour its delicious contours at your leisure. Sure, some of these so-called "people" might be perplexed at first by the sight of a shapely woman, who is bumpy in all the right places, sauntering around the woods with her twat and boobs exposed. However, those who possess genitals that are fully operational will be tickled pink to see her. Of course, a good portion of them have been conditioned to fear female sex organs since birth, even women, so don't be surprised if some of them are a tad standoffish by the sight of such wanton exhibitionism.

Wearing nothing but a long black cape, a pair of skin-tight knee-high patent leather boots and a black belt, Countess Irina of Karlstein (Lina Romay) slowly emerges from the mist with one thought and one thought only on her mind. And that is, companionship. Only problem is, she's a vampire, a Female Vampire.

Meaning, she can't help but kill those she copulates with. Whether they be men or whether they be women, she needs to feed on their orgasm in order to survive. Writhing on her bed helps abate her insatiable hunger for fluids of a sexual nature, but sooner or later she must plunge her face into the crotch of a total stranger to reap the moist rewards.

When Lina Romay emerges from the mist in the opening scene, did anyone else mistake her dark patch of pubic hair for a pair of black panties? For a minute there I totally thought she was wearing panties. But then it dawned me: Lina Romay + Panties? That is one equation that does not add the fuck up. Nonetheless, I consider pubic hair to be nature's panties, so, in away, she was wearing panties, just not the type you're accustomed to. Not to sound like a nudist, but societies obsession with covering things (i.e. vaginas) that already come with their own built-in cover is misguided and sad. It's my dream to launch a women's clothing line that features ensembles that cover everything except the vagina.

Oh, and before you start accusing me of being some sort of vagina-obsessed reprobate, please keep in mind that I just watched a ninety minute movie that has Lina Romay's unclad lady box being thrust in my face in almost every scene.

Did I mention the scene where Lina Romay's Countess Irina of Karlstein slowly emerges from the mist? I did, eh? How 'bout the skin-tight knee-high patent leather boots? You don't say. Hmm. I know what I didn't mention, the music by Daniel White, specifically the theme from Female Vampire. It's so freaking haunting. And in typical Jess Franco fashion, the theme becomes its own character after awhile, as variations of it are repeated throughout the film.

After Jess's camera has finished devouring Lina's supple frame, she walks up to a man who tending some sort of bird farm and... What's that? You say it's called a "menagerie." Whatever, this guy gets a blow job from Countess Irina against a bird fence. What's that? You say it's called "chicken wire." Screw you, man.

As Irina consumes his orgasm, the man let's out a loud scream. In fact, it's so loud, that Baron Von Rathony (Jack Taylor) hears it miles away.

Even though we never see her speak, Irina does occasionally provide some back story about her unique plight via narration (mwah, being a vampire is not all it's cracked up to be, etc.). And when these instances occur, the only thing we see onscreen is the vampire bat hood ornament flapping away on the hood of her limousine.

Agreeing to give an interview with a reporter named Anna (Anna Watican), we learn even more about Countess Irina (she answers her questions by nodding her head for yes and shaking it for no). She's apparently the last of her kind and lives alone in the mountains.

Feeling somewhat peckish, Irina instructs her manservant (Luis Barboo) to bring the hotel's masseur (Raymond Hardy) to her room. Lying on her bed in a manner that accentuates her pussy, Irina uses her clitoris to entice the masseur to come to her. As she expected, the masseur agrees to have sex with her. Little does he know, however, the orgasm he experiences on this day will be his last. Though, I gotta say, if you gotta go, what better way to do so than to have an attractive female vampire eat your orgasm.

There's supposedly a police investigation underway (the bodies are starting pile up at the Madeira morgue), but they have no clue what's going on. The medical examiner, Dr. Roberts (Jess Franco), tries tell the inspector in charge of the case that a vampire with a taste for spunk-based spillage is the culprit, but he dismisses his findings as pure poppycock.

What Jack Taylor's character is up to still unclear, but he's obviously drawn to Countess Irina. Until the actual scene where he meets Irina face-to-face, Jack spends most of the movie looking up at the sky (he's keeping an eye out for Irina, as she tends to fly by every now and then).

The blind Dr. Orloff (Jean-Pierre Bouyxou), like Dr. Roberts, is well aware of what's going on the island. His best scene is when he grabs a handful of Monica Swinn's pussy (in the interest of science, of course). That's right, you're not seeing things. The gorgeous Monica Swinn is in this movie. Out of all the actresses who have appeared in Jess Franco movies over the years, Monica Swinn (a.k.a. Monika Swuine) is definitely in the top five in terms of sex appeal. And she does not disappoint in that regard in Female Vampire.

Playing... what does it say here, "Princess de Rochefort"? I don't remember hearing her called that name once during the movie. At any rate, playing Princess de Rochefort, Monica is playing chess with her servant (Alice Arno), when Countess Irina walks in and helps her defeat the servant.

Escorting Irina to her private sadomasochism dungeon, Princess de Rochefort instructs her servant to remove Irina's clothing. If you look closely, you can see that Lina Romay is wearing black hold up stockings. The fact I had to "look closely" was very frustrating, as black hold up stockings in Jess Franco movies should always be easy to see.

After being whipped by... Oh, wait. I love it when Monica Swinn says, "Her skin is so silky smooth... I can't bear to touch it," while feeling up Lina against the dungeon wall. After being whipped by Alice Arno for a couple of minutes, Irina manages to turn the tables on Princess de Rochefort, who finds herself the one being whipped (she uses her vampire mind control powers on Alice Arno).

Crashing to the floor as the result of a punch to the gut, Monica Swinn is swarmed by Alice Arno and Lina Romay, who proceed to grope and lick her (we still don't get a proper shot of Lina's hold up stockings). On the other hand, as they're doing this, we get some great shots of Monica's stems in black fishnet stockings and her extremely hairy pussy (I dug the way her panties had trouble containing the wild nature of her unruly pubic hair).

I would say that Female Vampire is the perfect starting off point for people who are thinking about using/getting into the cinema of Jess Franco, as it contains all the right ingredients. Well, at least it contains all the ingredients I look for in a Jess Franco movie. Lesbianism, the occult, stockings, an exotic location, sadomasochism, Monica Swinn, a haunting score, lot's of close up shots of vaginas, knee-high boots, and an eerie atmosphere.

Eugenie (Jess Franco, 1970)

Just when I thought I had seen it all, along comes Maria Rohm in Eugenie...the story of her journey into perversion, Jess Franco and Harry Towers' adaptation of  Marquis de Sade's "La Philosophie dans le boudoir." Wait, you've seen Maria Rohm in plenty of Jess Franco films. What's so special about her appearance in this one? Are you ready? She doesn't wear pants. Well, that was a bit of a letdown. Whatever do you mean? Name a Jess Franco film where the Austrian actress does wear pants. No, you're not listening to me. I'm not implying that Maria Rohm doesn't wear pants when she's bathing or having sex with her stepbrother, I mean she hardly ever wears pants. And even when she does wear pants, she's not wearing pants. Okay, now that doesn't make a lick of sense. Again, you're not listening to me. There's a scene in this movie where Maria Rohm, in all her chic glory, can be seen wearing black pantyhose as if they were pants. You're joking, right? She must have at least had panties on? No, I checked. Repeatedly, in fact. And she did not have any panties on. All right, how 'bout a super-short short skirt, maybe you couldn't see it? Have you lost your mind? I mean, seriously. Do I look like the kind of person who would not notice if Maria Rohm was wearing a super-short short skirt in a Jess Franco film? So, what your saying is, Maria Rohm wears pantyhose–black pantyhose, she was wearing black pantyhose–right, black pantyhose, in the middle of the day as if they were pants? That's exactly what I'm saying. Whoa! I have to ask: How are the contents of your brain still intact after watching this righteous display? Think about it. Technically, your head should have exploded the moment you saw Maria Rohm wearing black pantyhose as if they were pants. Yet, here you are, typing words and carrying on like your usual self.
 

 

You think this is usual? Far from it. The sight of Maria Rohm's flagrant disregard for fashion orthodoxy shook me to the core. Even though quite a sizable chunk of time has passed since I watched this film, I still find myself unable to wrap my brain around her decision to openly mock society's rules and regulations that dictate proper pantyhose etiquette.
 

 

Didn't you find it strange that Maria Rohm decided to wear a crocheted poncho and a sombrero with her black pantyhose? Yes, I did find that strange. Which reminds me, are you sure the poncho wasn't a dress? You know, like a shirt-dress? Nah, I don't think it was long enough. Maybe it was supposed to be that short. After all, it was era of the non-existent hemline. Yeah, but, I could see her pussy. Sure, the nylon fabric was pressing tightly against it with the force of six tornadoes, but you could tell it [her pussy] was there. You're right, I could see her pussy, too. Well, it was worth a shot.
 

 

As you were going on about Maria Rohm's bold fashion statement, I was busy trying to figure out a way to steer this review into less perverted waters. And you know what, to quote Sulu from Star Trek, "the helm is sluggish." I know how to snap myself out of this Maria Rohm-themed pantyhose funk, mention the fact the film opens with a leggy Maria Rohm lounging in a manner that could be construed as leggy. I thought you just said you wanted to steer this review into less perverted waters? Yeah, and I said the helm was sluggish. Meaning, I've lost control of the ship. Besides, the film's opening leggy salvo features legs that are unadorned. So, yes, I'm still in pervert mode. But at least I've strayed into less nylon-obsessed territory.
 

 

Anyway, Maria Rohm plays Madame Saint Ange, a leggy aristocratic who enjoys sunbathing, toying with her guitar-playing gardener/boatman, Augustin (Anney Kaplan), diaphanous clothing, sado-masochism, and corrupting minors. Reading a book by Marquis de Sade, Madame Saint Ange envisions herself at a ritualistic murder, one that involves organ eating, in an environment that can best be described as dungeon-like. (Keep an eye out for Jess Franco as one of the creepy on-lookers.) Hosted by the ultra-suave Dolmance (Christopher Lee), the party, if you can call it that, features chanting, men in mitres, men wearing nylons over their heads ("We are Devo"), and a live reading from one the Marquis de Sade's works by none other than Christopher Lee. 
 

 

Anyone remember the Art of Noise song called "Legs"? Well, every time Maria Rohm would appear onscreen in the early going of Eugenie, I would yell out, "Legs!!!"
 

 

Speaking of Eugenie and legs, we're introduced to Eugenie (Marie Liljedahl), a thigh-licious teen who just got off the phone with Madame Saint Ange. How does Eugenie know Madame Saint Ange? I mean, except for the fact that both of them have fantastic legs, they don't seem to have much in common. Either way, they know each other, much to her mother's chagrin. Wearing a short red dress, Eugenie, after rebuffing her mother's request to tell her who she was talking on the phone with, retreats to her room to act leggy while staring at Madame Saint Ange's picture.
 

 

Just in case we had any doubts as to the validity of Eugenie's legginess, Jess Franco provides us with ample evidence when he employs a not-so subtle leg pan.
 

 

Call me paranoid, but the fact that Jess Franco regular Paul Muller plays Eugenie's father does not bode well for the naive little scamp. And wouldn't you know it, my paranoia is well-founded as we see that Paul Muller is meeting Madame Saint Ange at a swanky hotel. You don't know what they're up to. Oh, I know what they're up to. And it's not just sex; Madame Saint Ange, by the way, is wearing a brown leather skirt (with a matching vest) and black fishnet pantyhose. No, there's something sinister going on, and it probably involves the spiritual well-being of Eugenie.
 

 

What kind of parent would allow their teenage daughter to spend the weekend on a remote island that belongs to Madame Saint Ange and Mirvel (Jack Taylor), her deranged stepbrother? Well, it's obvious that Paul Muller is that kind of parent, because Augustine is currently ferrying Eugenie to the island as we speak.
 

 

I would have loved to have been there when Madame Saint Ange decided to wear black pantyhose as if they were pants, a white crocheted poncho, a sombrero, white sunglasses and a pair of jewel-encrusted pumps on the day Eugenie arrives at her not-so humble abode.
 

 

Upon further inspection, and then after another inspection, one that, if you can believe it, went farther, inspection-wise, than the previous inspection, I came to the conclusion that the iconic black pantyhose/poncho/sombrero ensemble Maria Rohm wears in Eugenie wasn't as radical as I first thought. If you look closely, you'll notice that the frayed material dangling from the front and back of her poncho does provide her cunt and anus a modicum of coverage. It's just that the outfit can turn impractical in an instant whenever a stiff breeze occurs or when the wearer engages in some impromptu arm lifting.
 

 

You know, I can see how a stiff breeze might upset the structural harmony of Maria Rohm's poncho (the island is known for its breeziness). But impromptu arm lifting? I don't see that happening often. What I mean is, the character she is playing doesn't seem like the type of person who does much arm lifting throughout the day. Oh, really? Well then, how do you suppose she goes about beating Eugenie with a leather strap? I mean, have you ever tried to beat someone with a leather strap without lifting your arms? If you haven't, I'll tell you, it's damned near impossible.
 

 

Why would anyone want to beat Eugenie with a leather strap? She's so soft, so innocent. The question you really should be asking yourself is, why wouldn't anyone want to beat Eugenie with a leather strap? I can't believe I just said that out loud. In my defense, I'm simply trying to understand the mindset of Madame Saint Ange and his Marquis de Sade worshiping stepbrother (when he's not reading aloud from the works of the Marquis de Sade, he entertains himself by opening and closing the blinds in a semi-menacing manner).
 

 

Believe or not, they haven't invited Eugenie to spend the weekend with them in order to take baths together (Marie Liljedahl's Swedish bum is so freaking ebullient in its post-bath state) or smoke Turkish cigarettes while wearing expensive frocks, they have sinister plans for Eugenie. And they can be summed up by the three words: Education. Corruption. Destruction.
 

 

Whips, chains, dandies in frilly shirts, the music of Bruno Nicolai (the music cue just before Maria Rohm gets freaky with a ball and chain was awesome), Christopher Lee in a red smoking jacket; it's quite the scene, man. And the thing is, Madame Saint Ange and Mirval have somehow convinced Eugenie that all the terrible things that have happened to her have occurred not in reality, but in a dream.
 

 

How many times can Madame Saint Ange and Mirval get away with all this before Eugenie gets wise? I don't want say, but you should expect to see Marie Lijledahl running naked across sand dunes, Lina Romay in Macumba Sexual-style, before all is said and done. I know, Marie Liljedahl ran naked across sand dunes before Lina Romay did (Lina didn't do it until the early 1980s), but I saw Lina do it first. Anyway, do you like leggy Euro-babes? What am I saying? Of course you do. Then make sure to check out Eugenie, not to be confused with Eugenie de Sade (which is just as leg-friendly), it'll blow your freaking mind.

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