Queens of Evil

Another "Euro-Cult" offering I was unaware of (prior to the week-end before last, in fact) but, proving intriguing upon reading its synopsis, I decided to get hold of immediately; this fact, however, did not really have anything to do with my watching it so quickly – just that the disc the film was recorded on was handy at the time. Anyway, QUEENS OF EVIL was quite good, if not exactly a 'lost' gem; thematically, it anticipated THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK (1987) – though I have never watched the latter myself – since the plot revolves around a bearded young man traveling on a motorcycle (Ray Lovelock) ensnared by three lovely women (Haydee' Politoff, Silvia Monti and Evelyn Stewart) he encounters and who are ultimately revealed to be witches; incidentally, while the girls live in seclusion in the woods, their abode is decked-out with all the modern trimmings one associates with the fashion world (including blow-ups of each of them hanging above their respective beds)! Lovelock and Stewart were both "Euro-Cult" stalwarts (he even supplies the rather thin vocals to the soundtrack's two numbers!); I first noticed Politoff in the equally obscure giallo INTERRABANG (1969) – where she had emerged the best of another sensuous trio – but, here, it is Monti (the one I was least familiar with) who particularly shined as the hero's most fiery seductress. Though the film's languid pace was to be expected, it also proves somewhat uneventful until the violent twist ending – organizing a party to which they invite their devilish friends, the girls reveal their true nature and turn on the mystified 'hippie'…egged on by their leader, an aging aristocratic type Lovelock had actually met (and apparently saw killed in a car crash!) at the very start of the picture!! For the record, I had previously watched the good Spaghetti Western TODAY IT'S ME…TOMORROW YOU (1968) from the same director, with two more (and still different) titles I will hopefully manage to check out during my ongoing "Euro-Cult" marathon.

In the wake of a road accident, a young drifter on motorbike is lured to his unforeseen fate at the hands of three stunning sisters, residing in an incommunicado deep-woods cabin(with interior furnishings that look like they were lifted from the sets of A CLOCKWORK ORANGE).

LE REGINE is a more-than-partially successful merging of pop-artsy midcentury modernism with fairly routine erotic eurohorror. A variably intriguing mood piece with a retro-cool music score by Angelo Francesco Lavagnino(a soundtrack LP was released), it's thick with a phantasmagorical atmosphere, both sinister and celestial. The highly attractive primary castmembers vitalize their characters with moxie, especially during the intermittent soft-erotic scenes(which are to the libido as the spur is to the bronco).

Le REGINE maintains a slow but steady pace, and remains interesting and consistently watchable straight through to the alarming and entirely out-of-nowhere final curtain. While it's certainly not a perfect picture, this largely overlooked oddity warrants reassessment, and probably deserves a few long-withheld acknowledgements...it's a notch or two above the standard for sexy 70s Eurotrash, and just that little bit out of the ordinary.

7/10...a nice surprise.

Dippy hippy David is travelling freely through somewhere or other on his motorbike, feeling the wind in his hair and superiority on his ego. He lives free, is not faithful to any woman because 'that would make him unfaithful to all the other women', you know, all that crap. I suppose I'll give him credit for stopping to help a sinister old man who's got a flat tyre, but let's face it: the guy's a sponger. That's what this film is – a parable on what happens when you're a want your money for nothing and your chicks for free.

After David somehow manages to kill this old guy in a car crash, he hides out in a shed for a while, until he discovers that the house next to the shed is inhabited by three ladies. There's Samantha (dirty-looking, too skinny) Bibiana (grumpy, too skinny) and Liv (Naïve, another dippy hippy) who invite him in for breakfast – gigantic cakes! Wait – those cakes stand for symbolism! That means that the other bit where they give him an apple to eat...

It might be a good time to describe the interior of this house too – the living room is filled with hundreds of cushions, some fake trees, and three gigantic pictures of the chicks on the back wall. Their rooms also have a huge picture and a velvet covered bed each and their kitchen is a bizarre angular nightmare made up fifty-thousand shelves and dookits. This is useful information I'm giving you here, as usual.

There's something about the way these girls can teleport about the place and perform satanic ceremonies that Raymond just doesn't like, but he's gets to bang all three of them so what does he care? They all keep going on about some castle where some strange guy lives and how Raymond got to meet this guy who the girls have a secret meeting with, and so on and so forth until the ending that completely shifts the tone of the film.

What makes it so bizarrely watchable is that these three girls seem to have limitless supply of long flowing gowns of many colours, mental make up and crazy wigs, and throughout the film the wigs get bigger and more insane. There's also a really huge arty streak throughout this one, from the twitchy editing to the bizarre sequences where Ida Galli has some sort of weird dragon painted on one boob, to the hellish soundtrack of Ray Lovelock singing some song about how this and that is 'gonna get ya'.

This offbeat art/sexploitation flick is at once typical of an adventurous era in European cinema, and a sort of "fine--but what are you gonna do with it?" curio. Handsome Ray Lovelock (who sings a couple uninspired folk-troubador songs on the soundtrack) is a longhaired motorcyclist lured into the forest idyll of three classic Eurobabes circa 1970 (big hair/wigs, near-Kabuki levels of makeup, outré couture wear when they're wearing any clothes at all) living in a pop-art palazzo in the middle of nowhere for no reason at all. Of course, something supernatural is going on, and it's hardly a spoiler to say that once these three glam spiders have had their way with this male butterfly, he won't be riding off into the sunset but meeting a considerably grimmer fate.

Not as much fun as the Swinging London blowout "The Touchables" two years earlier, which had a similar Adam-held-captive-by-three-sexy-Eves premise, this takes its allegorical aspects just seriously enough to be rather ponderous, partly because it's a little too highly polished in presentation without quite being eccentrically individual enough in style. The aesthetic is a little like high-fashion advertising--skilled, artistic, but a little arid. When the violence finally arrives it is bracingly unbridled, but more attention to the creeping dread of the horror undertow and less mild, picturesque erotica would have made the movie seem less mannered and empty as it idles its way towards the inevitable. Still, if you're a fan of such vintage counterculture/Eurotrash kitsch, it's certainly worth seeing once.

It coud have been a good short film, or an acceptable medium-length film, but it is one of the most boring movies I've ever seen. Nothing happens in the movie before the last 7 minutes. There is no plot, no tension, no pace, no mood, it is not haunting, or trippy, or visually mesmerezing, or atmospheric. Nothing at all. And I am really into slow and long movies. I love low budget movies from the 70s, but I can not positively value a movie for having only a good final seven minutes.