Leonor

The combination of "slow," "arthouse," "surreal" and "horror" is very appealing to me, so it was disappointing upon finally seeing this mid-70s flop to find out that it does actually deserve its rep as something of a lifeless slog. The problem isn't the lack of overt "horror" content (at least that's not a problem for me), though if you're expecting more, it will no doubt be disappointing that Ullmann's quasi-vampiric slayings of children are no more explicit than her enfolding them in her cloak. But the film simply lacks style and atmosphere, as well as verve, so the human aspects are as limp as the supernatural ones.

We only meet Leonor on her deathbed, so we get no sense of her (before her revival from the dead), or the Piccoli character's supposed great love for her. It's a bit hard to believe in the latter, as the very day she's buried he demands to marry young Ornella Muti, to the bafflement of her, her father, and the viewer. Nor does he express any notable emotions (beyond eventual impatience and hostility) towards his new bride, either. Ergo we feel nothing about the passion that supposedly leads him to resurrect one wife and neglect, then destroy another. He's a selfish, combative, unappealing character. That element might have provided its own social commentary, but the film doesn't seem to be saying anything in particular with it. The two women are beautiful, but their considerable acting skills are put to little use here. (Nor does it help that both are dubbed by others in the English language version I saw--it's particularly weird to be deprived Ullmann's familiar voice.)

The film is not so much badly as indifferently made, which is odd considering the director's pedigree (and the fact that it was his debut feature). It's watchable, but stubbornly refuses to become hypnotic, frightening, insightful, or any of the other things you might hope for. I saw the longer original cut, presuming it would be better than the shorter (by about 15 minutes) U.S. version, which was very poorly received. But I suspect the shorter edit simply made the story less comprehensible, without making it any livelier, and the long version isn't exactly dull, just very flat. If a director with more visual and atmospheric flair, say anyone from Bava to Herzog, had made this around the same time, it might have turned out brilliantly. But the best you can say about Juan Bunuel's handling is that it is technically competent if uninspired--not what you want from a film about a love that defies death itself.

Although not strictly a vampire film, this is one of those interesting European combinations of horror and art, typified by "Daughters of Darkness" in the 70's or "Let the Right One In" more recently. The plot involves a a 14th century nobleman who loses his young wife (Liv Ullman) to a horseback-riding accident (and to primitive medical practices of the era). He re-marries and has children, but remains mired in grief and unable to forget his first wife (even though his new wife is played by a Ornella Muti, who would make most men forget their own name). Finally, in a kind of "Monkey's Paw" scenario he manages to actually will her back from the grave, but she's not the same, and a lot of local children begin to mysteriously disappear and it isn't long before his new family is threatened. . .

This is more an art film than a horror film, not surprisingly since it was directed by Luis Bunuel's son and features Ingemar Bergman's frequent lead actress and muse. It's more serious than a lot of Euro-horror films, realistically set against the background of the Black Death plague and seriously commenting on the prevailing superstitions of the time (i.e. the fool-hardy medical practices, the witch-burnings). The vampiric element is present mainly in the undead Ullman's predations on peasant children, which recalls the "Bloofer Lady" that the undead Lucy Westeridge becomes in Bram Stoker's original novel "Dracula", an element that has been left out of almost all the subsequent movie adaptations because it't just too disturbing. It's also really quite heartbreaking to see the maternal instinct so corrupted, and to see undying love gone so horribly wrong.

This movie has, unfortunately, kind of fallen through the cracks between art and horror. It is not as exploitative as Jean Rollins sex-and-blood-soaked vampire films, on one hand, but it is not quite as self-consciously arty as something like Ingemar Bergman's "Hour of the Wolf" either (if Bergman or the Bunuel father had simply put their NAME on this movie, it would no doubt be much more well-known today) . It deserves better though. Ulman and Piccolo are very good as the star-cursed lovers, and Ornella Muti is amazing (if WAY too beautiful to be forsaken for a dead woman). It is ripe material for a DVD release.

Don't expect 70s Eurohorror in the vein of Jess Franco and the like, and don't expect anything ingenious like the efforts of the director's father. It's a loose adaptation of motives by early romanticist Ludwig Tieck, and since there was no vampirism in literature back then, THERE ARE NO VAMPIRES IN THIS MOVIE EITHER! Just Liv Ullman coming back from the dead after 10 years and strangling children. Great locations, good acting, but neither a convincing drama nor a satisfying horror film. But I've seen much worse than that and young Ornella Muti's a treat. And I like the fact that some screenwriters of the seventies got back to classic seldom filmed literature (like Ado Kyrou did in the far superior 'Le Moine') instead of copying plotlines, themes and motives that have been used a thousand times before.

This film is a fairly faithful adaptation of the Gothic short story "Wake Not The Dead" by Ernst Raupach (which is misattributed to Ludwig Tieck in many sources, including the opening credits of this film). Definitely read the source material before you watch the film, and your enjoyment of the film will be much greater. Of course, as is often the case, the short story is better, and the few ways in which this film diverges from the original story are detrimental to the film. Nevertheless, it is overall very faithful to the tone and message of Raupach. It has a lovely Medieval setting and Gothic tone.

Being an arty example of horror (much more so, in fact, than the same director's poltergeist-themed EXPULSION OF THE DEVIL [1973]), this medieval tale revolving around a Satanic pact that results in resurrection and a spate of vampire killings was considered too atypical for either sensibility and consequently fell through the cracks over the years; then again, such disparaging remarks by popular critics as Leonard Maltin – who labeled it "idiotic", even awarding the film his dreaded (but undeserved) BOMB rating – has not helped the chances for a proper reappraisal much! Indeed, most seemed to be of the same opinion as it prematurely terminated the director's career in mainstream cinema – he would go on to make just one more feature-length film in 1986, an obscure Western entitled THE REBELLION OF THE HANGED – and was restricted to work exclusively in TV thereafter!

Though the film is a Spanish/Italian/French co-production, the copy I acquired was mostly dubbed in English with the occasional lapse into Italian (actually, I had first watched it eons ago on late-night TV in the latter language). The presence of Michel Piccoli and Liv Ullman drew obvious parallels with the works of Bunuel's own more renowned father and Ingmar Bergman respectively; the obsessive love lasting beyond the grave shared by the protagonists and the general sense of godlessness on display was clearly up the Spanish Surrealist's alley, while the character-driven downbeat nature of the whole is akin to the austere Swede's chamber dramas.

Ornella Muti co-stars as Piccoli's young and lovely second wife who, failing to replace his affection for Ullman, the inconsolable husband coldly eliminates and disposes of. The wanderer-cum-devil he meets soon after was similarly featured in this guise in the contemporaneous ALUCARDA (1975), where he was played by Claudio Brook (a Bunuel Snr. regular!); here, he tells Piccoli that he can bring back his former spouse but asks him to let her rest in peace – naturally, our hero thinks only of himself, and Ullman's return has serious repercussions on both their lives and that of the entire community.

The vampirism angle is not rendered explicit and even abruptly handled: no sooner has Leonor re-awakened – the ten-year period is itself seen passing at the bat of an eyelid – that there are a dozen or so kids missing from the village (the inference being that she drains them of blood); in fact, she at first rejects Piccoli's advances but, once she has been nourished, feels quite ready to express passion – this recalls the Sadean credo perhaps best exemplified by the horror classic THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME (1932), when Count Zaroff states something to the effect of "Kill, then love – only then will you have known true ecstasy!". The Inquisition/plague elements which come into play during the latter stages also tie LEONOR to THE MONK (1972), adapted by the elder Bunuel and Jean-Claude Carriere (who also co-wrote this) from Matthew Gregory Lewis's classic novel; incidentally, the protagonists' children here are named after that particular author!

Apart from the afore-mentioned Muti, there are three other notable Italian credits – screenwriter Bernardino Zapponi (who was just coming off Dario Argento's DEEP RED [1975]), as well as cinematographer Luciano Tovoli and composer Ennio Morricone, both of whose contribution is essential to the film's stunning recreation of a distant and harsh past. Still, if the film does not emerge a complete success, it is because of the rather unsympathetic characterization of the central figures (the boorish Piccoli in particular), a general lack of incident (as already mentioned, the introspection and feeling of dread would have doubtless gained from a better exposition detailing Piccoli's solitude and Ullman's depredations) and the fact that, frankly, it seems not to have much idea how to end (after being lured into a trap by the locals, the female bloodsucker escapes and makes it back home, where she kills one of her former husband's children and even seems to attack Piccoli but, now presumably afflicted himself, the two of them take off on horseback, one suspects, to spread the vampire plague even further: as with the two versions of NOSFERATU {1922 and 1979}, this much-abused horror device is equated with an all-pervasive - and very real - disease).