Lips of Blood

This is my first Rollin film - and I loved it. Gloriously silly and surreal, I detect many sly references to Bunuel (the boring cocktail party) and Fellini (the cold empty beach like the apocalyptic end to 'La Dolce Vita' - did Spielberg get his floating coffins in 'Empire of the Sun' from this???). The nubile vampires are so unscary and unerotic - they look more like hungry fashion models with a penchant for nasal fairy dust. Who did the hero's hair - Leonard of London? - let's bring back the male bouffant! I think he got that knitted top with the zipper up front after seeing Pink Floyd 'Live at Pompeii'. There are so many great moments - like where the photographer turns at the sound of the doorbell - before it actually rings. What did this mean? Precognition? Bad acting? Who cares. I actually saw this on SBS TV (free to air - unedited). Thankyou SBS - a gem.

The films of Jean Rollin will be an enigma to many who have not experiencing his work, yet for those who allow themselves to be taken elsewhere by his cinema it can prove a highly rewarding experience. The viewer is often taken to places that invoke bewilderment, unease, and sexual desire. By no means Rollin's best film, Levres De Sang (aka. Lips of Blood) is a beautifully lyrical, slow burner that has the uncanny ability to take the viewer into an ethereal, dream like world, where the erotic and the neurotic are intertwined.

The story of a photographer, upon seeing a poster, is reminded of his childhood where a mysterious female vampire. However, this being Rollin, do not expect a traditional vampire movie (although his vampire films are arguably the most faithful to the Gothic aura and mythology of the vampire). Mostly dialogue free, with the acting catatonic, this only adds a surreal edge to the proceedings. And no vampire films have a greater sense of eroticism; it is easily to succumb to female vampires whenever they are on screen.

For the uninitiated, approach with caution. But this is a fine example of the originality and unique approach which is to be found in 1970s European sex and horror cinema.

Of which, Jean Rollin was undoubtedly the master.

A man (Jean-Loup Phillipe) has visions of himself as a small boy being cared for by a young girl living in a castle. At a party he sees a photograph of the castle ruins and is committed to finding them.

I had never seen a Jean Rollin film, but took interest in him given his significant following. Clearly on a tiny budget, the bulk of this vampire story is devoted to the cast walking all over the place, staring and posing wherever they're on screen. Rollin, who seems fond of vampire stories and has made many, is clearly also fond of the human body and indeed he finds a reason for just about every cast member to get their kit off for one reason or another. The plot such that it is, is thin and the dialogue and acting somewhat stilted. It does however have a dreamlike quality that does wash over you and I was never bored.

If your one who enjoys the recent surge in European horror films, by all means watch this delirious, non-sensical, erotic gem courtesy of director Jean Rollin.

From nude vampire women roaming the streets of Paris, to spooky castles and graveyards. LIPS OF BLOOD is sure to please

Be forewarned, as this film is for acquired tastes only. A must for sleazy, soft core horror buffs who enjoy their movies with an art house touch.

Lips of Blood has a languid quality that could've registered as decadence had it been made with any wit whatsoever, but instead of wit the movie offers us this vapid literal-mindedness. The movie is played with such soft-core-porn straightness that it's impossible not to snicker at it. Director Jean Rollin is sometimes described as a fantasist, but his fantasies are strictly pedestrian. Who but a teenage Goth-nit-wit could find anything to savor in this somnambulistic tale of a pale guy with bad hair being menaced by some half-naked chicks with dime-store vampire fangs? The movie requires more than suspension-of-disbelief, it requires suspension-of-intellect.

It's striking how amateurish and bereft of energy this movie is. Cult directors like Rollin are usually at least capable of some halfway decent staging, but there aren't even any images that stick with you, any trashy-iconographic moments. The problem is that Rollin himself doesn't seem all that charged up about his fantasies. Directors who deal in this kind of fetishistic material are usually at least somewhat interested in the subject-matter, but judging by this film Rollin could care less about vampires. The scenes all seem to plod on for hours with nothing happening, the cutting so flaccid that it's like we're being encouraged subliminally to nod off. Not a bad idea considering the display of cinematic indifference being carried out before us.