Countess Perverse

Countess Perverse

Original Title: La comtesse perverse

Directed by: Jess Franco

France, 1973

Drama/Sleaze/Dark Comedy, 78min

Distributed by: Mondo Macabro

I’m a sucker for directors cuts, presumed “lost forever” finds, multiple source prints and stuff like that. There’s something magic with watching re-cut or reassembled with previously missing, but now found in someone’s cupboard footage or sparkling restorations that try to recreate the director’s original vision that completely enthrals me. Perhaps even more so when it’s cheap exploitation fare, as it shows a level of admiration, passion, attention and respect for these fantastic movies that they haven’t’ been getting before.  Celluloid oddity enthusiasts, Mondo Macabro have finally come to the point in time where they follow up their previous selection of pimped Jess Franco titles: Sinner - Diary of a Nymphomaniac 1973, Lorna The Exorcist 1974, and one of my all time favourites, The Diabolical Dr. Z 1966  - with the ultimate, restored version of the "lost" directors cut of La comtesse perverse (Countess Perverse) 1973.

When I first started getting into Franco movies back in the late eighties, early nineties, one of the things that fascinated me was a recurrent tale my peers and fellow Franco enthusiasts would tell me. The tale of how Franco would make several versions of the same film, to cash in on several different areas. Sometimes a rawer horror/thriller version followed by a softcore erotic version and then rounded off by a hardcore version. At the time it felt like an ingenious way to cash in on several different areas and I thought Franco was something of a marvel to have this insight and wisdom. But the more time I’ve spent watching and researching Franco, it’s becomes obvious that the multiple versions are rarely a move of his will. It’s unfortunately more often something forced upon him by producers and distributors who seemingly push the movie – or Franco’s vision if you want – into a completely different pigeonhole.

Franco originally shot this movie as an erotic little horror themed black comedy called Countess Perverse in 1973 - which this restored version presents. His producer at the time, Robert De Nesle, feared reactions to the cannibalistic themes presented in the movie and demanded a change to take the edge off the movie’s violent content and down beat climax. So new footage featuring Lina Romay and Caroline Rivere, (stepdaughter of Franco), was shot, bringing a comedic tone to the film and adding amongst other things an “It was only a dream” ending to the film. But it doesn’t stop there, because during the same time period a new cinematic novelty was hitting the screens with the result that exploitation filmmakers – and producers – where loosing out to, the novelty of Porn. The seductive French erotic movies couldn’t compete with imported hardcore porn, and this left the sexploitation films in peril. In 1975 the French government passed a law that permitted screenings of hardcore porn, which allowed French filmmakers to get a piece of the action. So producers started adding inserts into their movies and titles they already had on the shelves. This is quite possibly what led producer de Nesle to, once again, take measures to keep up with what audiences wanted. Hardcore inserts featuring Romay, Pierre Taylou and Monica Swinn where shot and added to the movie to create a third version, Les Croqueuses (The Munchers) which hit the French adult cinemas in 1975. This version later ended up in Italian hands, where further random hardcore footage was added, much like the godawful XXX version of 99 Women 1968, edited by Bruno Mattei. This Italian version is known under the name Sexy Nature!  

Anyways, back to Countess Perverse, the directors cut:

Now, this might be a little spoilerish, but I'm pretty certain that it won't stop you from watching the movie.

Bob [Robert Woods] and Moira [Tania Busselier] find a naked woman, Kali, [Kali Hansa] washed up on the beach outside their house. The woman is delirious and moans about a house on an island and the people there who are going to kill her, Count and Countess Zaroff!  [Alice Arno and Howard Vernon]

Bob & Moira take the woman back to the island, before they invite a friend to stay at their house by the sea. Sylvia [Lina Romay] eagerly moves in, and the couple lure her into a sinister ménage a trois, which induces jealousy, between the couple. A boat trip takes them to the Zaroff Island where they all sit down for a red meat dinner. The initiated can read a subtext in the dialogue that goes right past Sylvia’s head. Countess and Count Zaroff visit Sylvia late at night, as she ends up in the middle of yet another ménage a trois.

Following their session, Sylvia hears noises and takes up her own investigation which leads not only to an image to make you fall head over heels in love with Romay all over again, but also to revealing the dreaded secret of the Zaroff’s. They are cannibals, Sylvia finds them midst decapitating the body of Kali, and they tell her she’s next. A naked Sylvia runs into the countryside as the prey for the day and just might end up being plat de jour.

Leaning sternly upon the plot of Richard Connell’s The Most Dangerous Game, Franco came up with this frisky and darkly comedic twist to the story immortalized through Pitchel and Schodesack’s 1932 movie, which has then been done to death from there on up through Ken Dixon’s Slave Girls from Beyond Infinity 1987, influencing stuff like Brian Trenchard-Smith’s Turkey Shoot 1982, Lucio Fulci’s New Gladiators 1984, Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle Royale 2000 and inspiring mainstream bollocks like the Hunger Games 2012 along the road.

Countess Perverse was shot back-to-back with Plaisir à trois - featuring the same crew and cast, and mostly improvised. Although I still believe that Franco had some kind of basic idea of what he wanted from his actors, as there are some key scenes that make this a highly enjoyable gem with some amazing visuals, perfectly sleazy moments and sinister dark comedy.

Approaching this film as I would anything else I watch here I’d say that the protagonists of the piece are established effectively as Kali in the opening scene tells of her ordeal, even if in brief form, at the hands of the Zaroff’s. The flashback narrative, shot with extremely wide angles, give an almost dreamlike illusion before the architecture of Ricardo Bofill’s Xanadu - which almost seems to be defying gravitation – pops into frame and the Zaroff’s, like lurking predators, invite her into their web of depravity.

Oh, and on that architecture, the next time in Stockholm, take a walk from Medborgarplatsen to Södra Station, and lookout for the half circle shaped apartment complex near Medis… Yeah, that’s designed by Ricardo Bofill and now you know why it’s called Bofills Båge. It’s our connection to Franco from now on. Franco also uses Bofill’s Xanadu in Sie tötete in Ekstase (She Killed in Ecstasy) 1971, and Eugenie - Historia de na perversion (Eugenie – The Story of Her Journey into Perversion), 1980, and I’m sure that observant viewers will find it used on more occasions.

So the threat of the island, and the Zaroff’s is established. We know what they eat, and cannibalism is definitely on the list of taboos. At the time of Countess Perverse, 1974, Lenzi had only started dabbling with the themes that would in a few years erupt into the Cannibal genre, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre 1974 was just around the corner waiting to pounce, so Cannibalism still was a pretty shocking occurrence on screen.

At the time cannibalism may have been provocative to producers and audiences, but today the cannibalism works as a platform for some wonderfully sinister dark comedy. It gives a fun rush of insight when we realize that the meat is human. Editor Gerard Kikoïne’s juxtaposition of dialogue and close ups of chunks of meat roasting on a grill is splendid, and Vernon sniggering manically each time they asked what meat they are eating is genius. The reason I question the improvisation claim, is that these innuendos are also fond repeatedly in the dialogue. Lines such as “Sorry for the tough meat, next time… oh you won’t be here next time… “ must have required some thought, but perhaps that should be credited to the French dubbing and dialogue added in post. More on that in a moment.

The second major shock comes when Bob and Moira, after hearing Kali’s devastating tale of cannibalism, sexual abuse and daring escape, turn her right over into the hands of the Count and Countess.  This kicks off a subplot concerning morale and doing bad for better cause, as Bob and Moria have an agenda. They want to get away from the life they are living, escape from the current situation.

I find it interesting in the way the Bob character plays out, because he has remorse for what they have done. He’s obviously obsessed by Sylvia – and who wouldn’t be – and the guilt from taking her to the Zaroff’s, leads him to take serious actions against Moria, and later challenge the Zaroff’s to little effect. This character redeems his immoral ways, he tries to correct his wrongdoing and find some kind of redemption as he tries to put things back to normal.

Taking the down beat ending and Vernon’s nihilistic closing speech in mind; it’s fair to see why producer Robert du Nesle became concerned about audience reactions, and took to the drastic measures taken. Today this kind of ending is a predicted narrative tool when it comes to many genre movies, but at the time, I’d dare say that Franco was breaking new turf, which when one thinks about it is outstanding proof to the genius of Jess Franco.

Another reason I adore the films of Jess Franco is that he’s had the balls to experiment with his filmmaking. He always makes the most of what he had to work with, just look at Paula-Paula, 2010 for an instance. Armed with a simple DV-Camera, Franco presented us with a concentrate of aesthetics that saturate most of his work, and even worked in a small final part for Romay as Alma Pereira - another returning Franco character. Or the excessive zooming that the unfaithful unfortunately associate with his films in a negative way. In reality the zoom technique was a result of the tight schedules given to him by producer Arthur Brauner during the suite of movies shot in 1971 – She Killed in Ecstasy, X312 – Flight to Hell, Vampyros Lesbos, and Der Teufel kam aus Akasava. Instead of grinding the production to a halt to reposition cameras and lighting for cut away shots, a rapid zoom back and forth, gave the same kind of result, whilst saving valuable time and money.

In Countess Perverse, he’s obviously experimenting with camera lenses and composition. Many scenes start with a distanced master shot, lingering there as long as possible, before cutting in to wide or mid shots. A lot of these mid shots are shot with wide-angle lenses that give a fisheye effect, which is really effective, creepy and surreal. It also hit me that there’s a lot of great dolly work going on in Countess Perverse too, something I rarely associate with the cinematography on Franco films. I have to point out the gorgeous compositions because Gérard Brisseau’s cinematography is outstanding, and he really makes the most of the fantastic Bofill architecture. Pacing is almost flawless, and Gérard Kikoïne’s editing moves the movie forth in a steady flow.

Immaculately restored, with a stunningly crispy HD image, Countess Perverse has been returned to the original vision Jess Franco had in mind thirty-eight years ago by Stéphane Derdérian and screenwriter/actor Alain Petit (Jean Rollin’s La morte vivante (The Living Dead Girl) 1982, Franco’s Justine 1979 and Tender Flesh 1997). Petit is said to have been present when Franco edited the movie back in the day, and I seem to recall reading somewhere that he’d confirmed the original aspect ratio as the presented 1.33:1 – there’s even an onscreen guide to make sure you get it right.

Franco started editing his own movies early seventies – uncredited on Plaisir à trois – Kikoïne get’s the credit. So perhaps he (and Petit) where present, but didn’t physically cut and splice film together himself.  As it’s told, Franco shot the scenes, assembled a mute rough cut which was then sent back to the offices of CFPC (Comptoir Français de Productions Cinématographiques). There Kikoïne edited the movie and this is most likely this is where co-credited writer, Elisabeth ledu de Nesle, wrote dialogue for the movie. After all, Countess Perverse was only one of a whopping fourteen films - eleven completed - several iconic Franco titles amongst them - and three which where never completed or released, that Franco directed in 1973.

Some food for thought - if Countess Perverse was shot back to back with Plaisir à trois, a movie Franco without receiving onscreen credit, edited and shot, then there’s a pretty good chance that he also worked the camera and the assisted the editing of Countess Perverse.

Returning readers, will know that I love old soundtracks – hence the stacks of vinyl in my home and mixtapes for your pleasure to the right. The Countess Perverse soundtrack is a gem; Jean Bernard Raiteaux and Olivier Bernard supply the movie with a fantastically cool fuzzy guitar progressive rock opera kind of track. at times reminds me of a aggressive take on Gene Moore’s theme from Carnival of Souls 1962. Just how often do you hear fuzzy guitar, flute and monkey screams in the same tune! Amazing stuff, someone (hint hint Finders Keepers) should get this out there as soon as possible.

Countess Perverse is visually stunning, psychotronic wonder of sleaze, mystery, dark humour and features wonderful performances from the cast. Romay may never have given a more vulnerable performance – although that could just be me being emotional at seeing her in HD - Vernon is superbly sinister and oozes evil. Choosing this movie is a no-brainer, it’s Franco at his finest (which both I and every DVD quote will tell you, of every Franco movie) Countess Perverse will perfectly fit into the void next to the Mondo Macabro releases of The Diabolical Dr. Z, Sinner and Lorna the Exorcist that you already have – or should have- standing in your shelf.

Countess Perverse is to be released on June 12th, by Mondo Macabro. You can preorder it on Amazon or pick it up from our friends at Diabolik DVD.

Exorcism

Exorcism
Original Title: L’éventreur de Notre-Dame
Directed by: Jess Franco
France/Spain/Belgium (1974) 1979
93min, Thriller/Sexploitation
Distributed by: Extreme - WorldWideCinema

Jess Franco gets a lot of undeserved critique for making quick and dirty movies – technically too - and amongst the movies that get the most complaints are the Eurocine movies. It’s no understatement he made more “lesser” movies than “better” movies with Eurocine – but at the same time it’s also the studio that produced some of Jess Franco’s absolute finest moments. Such as the magnificently sleazy, depraved and violent Exorcism or The Sadist of Notre Dame or Demoniac depending on which version you actually get to see. This is one of Franco’s wildest, darkest and strangest movies, and a shocking, disturbing and outstanding tour de force of Jess Franco cinema.

Pulp author Paul Vogel – or Mathis depending on which version you are watching [Franco] is writes seedy, sensationalistic crime stories for The Dagger and Garter Weekly. His latest short, The Torture Chambers of the Inquisition, tells the exploits of a sadist who Vogel claims to be based on a real character, hence the absolutely authentic details - which the readers love! Office clerk Anne [Lina Romay], who also participates in the opening nightclub performance, works in the Venus Publications offices too. The meeting ends on a sour note, when Anne and boyfriend Raymond (or Pierre depending on which version you are watching) [Pierre Taylou] candidly without knowing he’s still in the hallway, mock Vogel.

Vogel stalks Anne and her friend Maria [Monica Swinn] going as far as renting an adjourning apartment with a view right into the two young women’s room. From his, room with a view, he get’s his voyeuristic kicks whilst oogling the two women and their lesbian lovemaking. It’s classic Franco voyeurism and wonderfully shot from an adjourning location, creating frames within the frame and presenting a metaphorical space between Vogel and his “prey” - a space soon to be closed.

Next Franco establishes the complexity of the Vogel character. He’s not only a man who gets pleasure from his voyeurism, he’s also driven by the compulsion to cleanse the women he watches, and he has to make someone pay for the sins. Vogel rushes down to the local bar, picks up a barmaid and after sloppily making out with her – or rather having a minor breakdown on top of her naked body – Vogel proclaims that he’s must exorcise the devil out of her… which obviously means she’s gonna’ die! It gives a dimension to the character, which may come as a surprise for haters, but it is there and it’s a fascinating character with more depth than most the generic shite produced today. I’ll get back to the complex character of Vogel in a moment.

This is where a subplot concerning Satanism, black magic and occult rituals is started off and then runs throughout the rest of the movie. The barmaid tells Vogel of a satanic cult that have invited her to a Black Mass, and Vogel is shoved gently towards the brink. It’s an interesting subplot and a useful one as the Satanism and occult obviously contrasts against the many religious paraphernalia and recurrent praying of Vogel’s world. As we know all about Vogel’s religious morale and mission to clean out Satanism and sin, it becomes a conscious provocation and we know that he will have to react to it. It builds an inner tension within the Vogel character, which soon will need a reaction.

Vogel sneaks around the grounds of a mansion and witnesses the Black Mass invoking a brilliant clash within the character. We already know he’s on a one man mission to clear the world of sin and sinners, so stumbling upon a cult of Satanists who not only perform a ritualistic sacrifice, but also where participants freely start sessions of heavy petting and later end up in one huge sweaty snake pit of carnal frenzy, is an absolute point of no return for Vogel. The cultists must die, and obviously he starts with the high priestess and her husband, one of the most violent and haunting moments of the movie.

There’s bitter irony to be found here. As we have understood the black Mass to be merely another act, we realise that Vogel’s “exorcism/sacrifices” of the cultists is unjustified. There is no real threat to “our/Vogel’s” religious foundation; hence the sacrifices are merely murders. His misinterpretation of the ritual, leads him into an accelerated frenzy of disgust. He commits his gory assassination of the Countess [Francine Nicolas] and the blood remains are what lead the cops to take their manhunt for a sadistic killer whose methods - according to one young detective - are identical to that of the exorcism ritual of the early inquisition. It’s another obvious religious reference, but also the jump-start of an investigation plot. But instead of going the traditional way, Franco mind-fucks us. We know all about Vogel and his mission, and at the same time Inspector Tanner [Olivier Mathot] and cohorts are not too sympathetically portrayed. It’s as if Franco is manipulating the audience into empathising with Vogel instead of rooting for the police force, as we know the “sadist”, have an insight into his complex character and compared to the inefficient police grasping at straws, Vogel is the most effective character.

As the second act introduces the “antagonistic force” of the police – yes they can be an antagonistic force, after all they are out to bust the leading character, Vogel, who in this case is a classic anti-hero type just like Dracula. Think about it, I’ve mentioned it before on this blog, vampire movies have a complicated problem, as the vampire; i.e. the classic monster – most often becomes the one we root for… the protagonist. It’s the same here, it’s Vogel we want to see more of and we want to see his sleazy killings go on for ever… well at least till he starts pawing Romay, then we will have had enough.

Following this suave manipulation, Franco moves into the final act, the one that will take us though to the climax. It obviously see’s Vogel “peeping” on Anne, committing even more murders, whilst Anne and friends all become increasingly paranoid and worried about the killer stalking Paris. It’s all a build of anticipation, as we kind of already know where it’s all going. Vogel has to encounter Anne and when he does it pure ecstatic Franco concentrate.

Having kidnapped Anna, Vogel rants about how she’s too is possessed by the devil, but at the same time he loves her and waits for the right moment to rid her of Satan’s evil influence. With his object of desire finally in his possession, he can’t just kill her off in cold blood, instead he keeps her chained to his cupboard and toys with her instead, and after all he is the Sadist of Notre Dame.

The culmination comes after Vogel is confronted by Raymond and Maria who put forward “proof” that Vogel is the killer, as the feel he knows too much about the killings, and it shines though in his pulpy writing. It’s no chance happening, it’s planted earlier on in the movie and it’s a fantastic beat that delivers. They further provoke him with the fact that they are going to have another black mass later that night. Again it’s a provocation that leads somewhere and it has consequences in the climax, a climax that rushes forth like a runaway train.

Opening in a fashion that is true Franco cinema - We take the voyeuristic gaze into a sexual torture scene where one woman dominates a second – and as the scene reaches its climax; the camera cuts away to show a room full of swanky audience members. Franco sets us down right in the middle of the audience, creating the illusion that we are one of them. It’s a trait that returns quite a lot in Franco’s movies.

We’re used to seeing Franco in bit parts in his movies, and we’re used to seeing him play shady, freaky and oddball characters too. But Mattis Vogel is almost a concentrate of all the characters he’s portrayed though the years. It’s a performance that is outstanding. Vogel is a fascinating character. He has some serious skeletons in his baggage, which are let out in portions along the narrative. The first hint at his background comes early on when Anne asks if it is true that he once used to be a priest. He writes explicit crime novels with a sadomasochistic angle, but he’s also a man of the clergy. It gives dimension to the character. As does the conflict in kneeling affront of his bible, praying to God and putting on his priest garbs only to turn around and savagely murdering the prostitute he picked up at the club. It’s also here his profound beliefs come to surface for the first time. It’s also where he exposes his secret of once being expelled from the church due to his extreme ways of dealing with sin and sinners… he’s not even a real priest anymore, and not accepted by his kind, he’s an outsider.

I usually claim that there’s one crown jewel of storytelling when it comes to creating a fascinating character, and the one thing that motivates their actions harder than anything else is guilt! Yes, guilt. It’s obviously Vogel’s catholic guilt that drives and motivates him to kill the women. The guilt over his voyeurism becomes such a burden that he must redeem himself, and what better than sacrificing the satanic sinners of the devil’s cult to God!

Exorcism is all about voyeurism, life, death and religion – the art of killing in the name of God - i.e., which I feel is an obvious General Franco metaphor if there ever was one. The cinematography by Raymond Heil is outstanding. There are quite a few shots that just linger on in long shots. Being accustomed to the effectiveness of Franco’s zoom I was on several occasions waiting for it to bust forth and catch a close up, but it didn’t it just hung out in the back of the room. Really impressive and completely unexpected. Not forgetting the entire kidnapping of Anne sequence, which definitely is amongst the finest ever seen in a Franco movie. Lighting, composition, pacing and even the editing bring it together unlike any other moment. This could be the one single moment that could define the greatness of Exorcism.

Exorcism has a great score by André Bénichou and long time Franco collaborator Daniel White - who originated from Yorkshire, England. Adding that to the mix, makes this a fantastic movie - Exorcism, one of Jess Franco’s most violent, sleazy and hands down most complex movies, a magnificent piece of trash cinema when its at its best.

Image:

16x9 Widescreen

Audio:

Dolby Digital Stereo 2.0, English or French dialogue, Dutch subtitles.

Extras:

A really spartan release, and it’s painfully obvious that I’m going to have to start digging into my pockets and get the Synapse releases as I’m guessing they are completely uninterested in sending review samples of several year old releases to some bloke in the wrong region… This disc has noting to offer as far as extras go, not even a trailer. Just imagine what you could have done with "alternate versions" clips on this movie.

Paula-Paula

Paula-Paula

Directed by: Jess Franco

Spain, 2010

Audiovisual Experience, 66min

It’s a well know fact that much of Jess Franco’s cinema is about voyeurism, forbidden urges, breaking taboos and weird beard wackiness. This may also be true in the case of the strange “Audiovisual Experience” Paula-Paula, but trying to make sense of this experimental short is a hard task which takes it’s time and will definitely polarize the fans.

Paula-Paula has me worried, confused and disoriented. I can’t make much out of it despite the guideline “inspired by Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde by R. L. Stephenson” and several hours of previous Franco movies behind me. I can definitely get behind previous movies that give an impression of Jesus loosing patience and almost walking away from hence leaving the movies with a gaping hole as there is no real climax or conclusion to the narrative… but Paula-Paula goes completely off track even before it get’s started… and that’s a shame, because Jess Franco can do better.

Paula [Carmen Montes who also starred in Franco’s Killer Barby’s vs. Dracula 2002 which starred Viktor Seastrom (aka Peter Söderström) who I used to sell Franco import tapes to some fifteen years ago before he fucked off to Spain saying that he was going to find Franco – he did, and ended up working for the man on several flicks!] sits rocking in a corner, a detective, Alma Pereira [Lina Romay] has her guided out of the corner and into something that looks like an office, obviously someone’s apartment, and Pereira starts asking about the other Paula, whom the first Paula claims to hate. The detective asks if Paula killed the other Paula who replies that she has done so several times, Paula is a hard one to kill… An almost noir-ish tone is set into action, but each time the narrative starts to pick up, it’s intercut with mirrored split screens of “the other Paula” [Paula Davis] dancing… and from there one it just get’s lost in itself. Paula makes a move on Sergeant Meliton, before he scampers off and Paula starts a little dance for herself.

Unfortunately all the Franco style voyeurism is lost, as Paula on more than one occasion stares right into the camera busting through the fourth wall. It’s not longer voyeurism, as Carmen is looking right at me, the audience. I claim that voyeurism lacks interaction, it’s the unknowing of the observed that makes the one is watching because then it’s not voyeurism it’s exhibitionism and that’s a completely different bag…. Don’t even for a second think to yourself “yeah but Romay stared so damned hard through the fourth wall that she bumped into the camera in Les avaleuses (Female Vampire) 1973, so what are you talking about…?” because that iconic moment in Franco cinema is metaphorical for her she vamp character seducing the audience. In Paula-Paula it means nothing, at least not to me.

If you are a returning reader, then you know that I hold the greatest respect for Franco. I’m not just going to rip him to parts here; I love his work way to much for that. So much that the first moment it was possible I pre-booked and eagerly awaited the “audiovisual Experience” of Paula-Paula, and if my (and all the other fan’s) pre-booking in anyway contributed to helping Jess Franco complete Paula-Paula and secure distribution, then I’m quite content. But looking at the movie I want more. No, I demand more. This is Jess Franco, but no matter how hard I'm willing to argue, debate and defend his genius, I have a hard time getting behind offerings like Paula-Paula. For me this was a complete waste of time. Hardly ten minutes of Franco scripted “plot” - an introduction of themes - and the remaining fifty minutes tedious, and seedy video footage of two naked women squirming around on his living room floor – which may be good enough for certain fans, - doesn’t qualify for me. I’m wanting some context and texture to the platform of my sleazy viewing, this was just boring and as mentioned earlier, tragic. Jess Franco can do so much better than this.

It’s a difficult task reading Paula-Paula, and it’s taken me almost a year to get round to putting my thoughts in writing even if the conclusions are minimal from the few notes I found a few days ago. I wanted to see something that I’d might have missed in there, but sadly no, it’s still a pretty poor movie.

Sure, as I’ve pointed out in previous posts on Franco, a lot of his movies are linked and connected through intertextuality and in referring themes, plots, character, names and visuals. There’s a few small referents here, the obvious being Paula & Paula’s seedy nightclub act - even if it’s only performed on the floor of that living room and not in an actual seedy nightclub as it normally would - the character of Al Pereira, here as Alma, the Jazzy score, and the voyeurism trait that’s commonly found in Franco’s work is kind of warped and fails as I mentioned above. But if one really searches the narrative for reason and story then the answer is in there even if it is a pretty dodgy storyline to start with. The question of Paula’s death is posed early on, Paula denies answering, and enters a kind of dreamlike state. This continues as she and Paula dance and slither their way though out the movie… Well we never see a corpse, so in a way the Paula-Paula is two personas in one character – keep the Jekyll & Hyde text from the start in mind, and remember that that story is about man’s (or as here woman’s) inner conflicts with their good side and evil side. Dark haired Paula is riddled with guilt, she’s a blubbering mess at the start of the film, I’d say she’s the good one. In an extension of the movie, it’s safe to guess that she’s cured, as she during the narrative of Paula-Paula actually kills off that counter part which she can’t cope with, Blonde Paula, the temptress, evil Paula. The long tedious dance on the treadmill… well that my mates is the transformation scene!

The metaphor of a detective story is established when Romay asks if Paula killed Paula… She replies that she’s a hard one to kill, implying that changing ones character isn’t something done easy. But as we know at the end of the movie, there’s a climax to that arc in the death scene. A death climax, and in a micro perspective the detective story comes to a climax too. Yes Paula did kill Paula, but at the same time she frees’ herself, which is further implied by the text card at the end; And no one heard about Paula-Paula’s show ever again.

It could be that Paula-Paula is Franco’s most anarchic movie ever. Despite awards for lifetime achievements he say’s screw the system and I’ll make movie in my very own way until the very end. And If I want to make a movie right fucking now, I will! Almost as if he’s making a point of showing the industry that he doesn’t need them, and if he wants’ he can shoot a movie (or experiment – as that is what this is) in his living room on DV, with two naked women, long-time muse Lina Romay and a soundtrack right off the stereo if he wants…

…and he certainly can, because if that is the case, then I’m right behind this movie, or artfuck experiment or what ever he wants’ to call it. Viva La Revolucion, because Jesus Franco never stopped revolting against the system that denied him the opportunity to prove exactly what a true master he was.

But it can’t end here. No way, this can't be the final Jess Franco movie, it just can't! At times, even on his bare knees, Franco pulled off some fascinating and stunning movies, and I’ve always claimed that the majority of his flicks all have at least one scene that will stick and make an impression. Be it a composition, a glance from one of his actors or a pure surreal moment that one comes to expect from a Jess Franco movie, there’s always something in there that sticks with you.

Although all is not lost, the best thing with the Paula-Paula 500piece special release is that there are some fantastic moments in the presence of Jess Franco himself, and it starts with the introduction to the movie where he claims to have just completed the film half an hour ago… there’s what I’d call that anarchy again and perhaps one of the moments that makes me enjoy the disk overall despite not really enjoying the movie.

Oh and I have number 29 of the original 500 batch if you are interested.

Image:

16x9

Audio:

Spanish Dialogue, English Subtitles optional.

Extras:

Introduction, About the film and interview with Jess Franco where he shares his thoughts on film, music, women and the industry, and smokes another hundred cigarettes whilst lounging on his couch.