Daughters of Darkness

Lesbian Vampire films had their heyday in the early 70s, and Belgian cult director Harry Kümmel's "Les Lèvres Rouges" aka. "Daughters Of Darkness" of 1971 is the most artistically made, mesmerizing and atmospheric film this particular sub-genre has put forth. The film maintains an exceptionally eerie and surreal atmosphere throughout its 100 minutes, the score is one of the most beautiful and ingenious horror film soundtracks I've ever heard, and Delphine Seyring is wonderfully eerie and seductive at the same time in the role of Countess Bathory. The film, of course, has nothing to do with the real Elisabeth Bathory, who terrorized medieval Hungary by murdering countless innocent girls. The real, terrible story of this sadistic countess, who is often referred to as the "Bloody Lady", however, is an immensely popular topic in Horror literature and film, and the Erzsébet Bathory story also provided a basis (as well as a villain) for this particular film.

Newlyweds Stefan (John Karlen) and Valerie (Danielle Ouimet) are staying at a Belgian hotel in the middle of nowhere, when two more guests arrive - A mysterious and tempting countess (Delphine Seyring) who is accompanied by a pretty young girl (Andrea Rau)...

"Les Lèvres Rouges" is a film as beautiful as it is eerie, mysterious and surreal. The greatest performance is delivered by Delphine Seyring, who is brilliant as the countess. Sexy Danielle Ourimet and Andrea Rau deliver enough female eye-candy to make this a classic of the erotic Horror film. I couldn't say I liked John Karlen's performance particularly, but he sure isn't bad either. Great supporting performances are delivered by Paul Esser as a hotel clerk and Georges Jamin as a retired police officer. The greatest quality of the movie, however is the mesmerizing atmosphere which is even fortified by the beautiful and hypnotic score.

All said, "Les Lèvres Rouges" is an excellent, immensely eerie, beautiful and atmospheric Horror film, and THE classic of the Lesbian Vampire sub-genre that Horror lovers can not afford to miss!

I first saw this movie when I was 12 and it had a huge impact on my early artistic endeavors as a young man. I've seen it periodically over the years and can see what intrigued me about it so much. It's part Ingmar Bergman film and part bad vampire movie. There are some beautifully filmed scenes along with some awful dialogue. The brilliant Delphine Seyrig is superbly creepy. The other performances are only mediocre. The music is appropriately over the top; sometimes sinister, sometimes goofy- seventies movie. The new director's cut contains more sex and nudity, probably to avoid getting an x-rating at the time of release. It's definitely worth checking out if you've never seen it.

Finally it became available, the director's cut of this 40 year old vampire flick. The weirdness is that it doesn't contain real vampires like you know them. You never see any fangs but it's the atmosphere that keep you attracted to the teevee. The other part that is funny for me is that all the places shown I have seen them, easily to explain, I grow up in Ostend in the seventies. But what an excellent flick this is, even without the gore and almost without th red stuff. There is a lot of nudity but it never becomes gratuitous. It is also strange that a Flemish director (Harry Kumel) was able to get big names, Delphine Seyrig was an icon at that time and even the others were well known then. The quality available on the Blue Underground DVD is excellent, even the sound is great, no hiss or whatsoever. It is a beauty to see and remembering that it was made without a big budget. It is indeed as stated on the sleeve erotic and unusual.

Beware as you go into this, it may sound like Hammer but it's nothing like it. It's a chic, stylish vampire film dripping with the most wanton aestheticism. The whole thing exudes the scent of an absinthe dream, the contours of a flowing red dress.

Superficially it is about a couple of newly-weds - but who, as the film opens with them having sex in a train cabin, openly declare that they don't love each other - who find themselves stranded in Ostande and move in to a strangely empty hotel for a few days. A countess Bathory arrives there with her female companion, there's also the baffled concierge who tries to stay out of passion's way.

I say superficially because the dynamics between the couple is what at first sight seems to be driving the story. The woman is desperate to break out from the limbo of anonymous sex and be introduced, thus be legitimized as a wife and woman, to the man's mother, an aristocrat back in England. The man, on the other hand, is content to derail those expectations and savour the erotic dream he has concocted to inhabit.

But of course we come to understand that the narrative is powered from outside. The countess courts both, seducing in the emotional space between them. She personifies that wanton aestheticism right down to her body language. It is important to note that she is played by the actress who starred in Marienbad for Resnais, which this film alludes to; in the mysterious hotel setting with its expansive balustrades, in the twilight wanderings, in the sense of time revoked and sensations amplified.

She is the architect of all this, building around these people the desires that will yield them to her. So it is the man's semi-conscious world of secret pleasures, but it's she who is slowly, slyly perverting them. She does this with the malevolent purity of a femme fatale.

It does not matter that she is Bathory, or that blood is eventually savored from wrists, this is merely the desire made visible in a way that would appeal to a niche audience. So even though Jess Franco borrowed the velvety sunsets and decadent air from this for Vampyros Lesbos, this operates deeper. It matters for example that she seduces the man into a new obsession with violence, the destructive flipside of eros. It further pries the woman apart from him.

Gradually what was a matter of taking pleasure from flesh is spun into something else entirely; again involving flesh but now literally draining from his.

It ends with a stunning sequence across countryside roads; a lot of the imagery recalls L'Herbier - who also inspired Resnais - but here more pertinently. The soul has been so withered away from inside, so consumed from the fever of passion, that mere sunlight sends it reeling. Of course we can explain away by falling back to our knowledge of vampire lore, but we'd be missing on the finer abstractions; how, for example, the femme fatale is magically cast into the circumstances that, as we know from our knowledge of this type of film, would precipitate her demise. Nothing else would do after all.

If we follow the set of reactions from what at first sight appears like an accident, it can be plainly seen how it all flows from her desire to control the narrative.

It's marvelous stuff just the same, the colors, the desolate aura. I just want to urge you to see as more than just an 'artsy vampire flick'. Save that for Jean Rollin.

While I appreciate vampires as a staple of the horror genre, I have never been a big fan of vampire films. And while I will be the first to laud the merits of Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee's contributions to the cape, they look rather timid next to Countess Elizabeth Bathory (the luminous and sensual Delphine Seyrig) in "Daughters of Darkness." While Harry Kumel's film is one of the most aesthetically beautiful vampire pictures ever lensed, dripping with subtle sexual tension, it also presses forth with a feminist/lesbian subtext that's as alluring as it is clever. The plot is relatively straightforward, and the film takes its time in establishing mood and atmosphere--Valerie (Danielle Ouiment) and Stefan (John Karlen) are newlyweds who are on the rocks only 3 hours into the marriage, and things are complicated further when Countess Bathory and her assistant, Ilona (Andrea Rau) check into the same deserted seaside hotel. While the atmosphere could be compared to the Universal and Hammer horrors, Kumel's artistry--with well-framed images, emphasis on wardrobe, and a very deliberate color scheme--exists in its own unique league. The topic of lesbianism--and even heterosexuality--is presented in a minimalist, unexploitative manner, yet maintains a pervasive eroticism throughout. Even the vampiric seduction is presented with a minimum of graphic bloodshed, which is all the more effective. "Daughters of Darkness" is the type of moody, character-driven piece that plays like a sensual sister to George Romero's similarly unique "Martin." As my comment title implies, this is an excellent film, required viewing for fans of horror and great art alike.