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4
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7 |
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10
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The only vampire film ever made in Argentina.
And it's in color!
Director
Emilio Vieyra's Blood
Of The Virgins (Sangre De Vírgenes)
opens with a pre-titles prologue set in the 19th
Century. Buxom blonde Ofelia (Susana Beltrán),
from a well-to-do family of high standing, is
madly in love with the mysterious Gustavo, who
wants her to elope with him. An arranged marriage
to another suitor, however, looms like a gathering
shadow over their secret romance. If only Gustavo
would formally introduce himself to her family,
perhaps Ofelia's stern father would change his
mind. Yet despite her entreaties Gustavo refuses,
nor will he explain why. Ofelia has no choice
but to go through with the marriage. On her wedding
night her jilted lover silently appears by the
conjugal bed, dagger in hand. In the midst of
the couple's lovemaking Gustavo stabs the defenseless
groom to death. Baring fangs, he then bites the
hypnotized Ofelia in the neck. Yep, he's a vampire.
(Doubtless he knew this wouldn't go over well
with her folks.) The pop art title card hammers
this home in case the fangs, neck biting and dripping
blood weren't enough.
Cut to a cemetery, in what
looks like broad daylight, with the distinctively
Draculean Gustavo approaching Ofelia's grave.
The earth parts to reveal her coffin, and soon
the reunited lovers are strolling away amid the
headstones. (Many of which are large crosses.
Is director Vieyra toying with the standard vampire
lore here, or does he just not give a damn? I'm
not really sure if the film's many 'Undead in
Daylight' moments signal a departure from convention,
either, or just bad day-for-night photography.
I suspect the latter. There's also the strange
substitution of red-tinted seagulls for
bats, which makes absolutely no sense given that
bats are shown in the crematorium scene at film's
end.)
After
a groovy animated credits sequence
we segue straight to the 1960s. For the next 10
minutes or so we follow a group of swingin' twentysomethings
—
three women and three men —
on a skiing vacation in
Patagonia. There is no dialog here, just little
vignettes of the them hitting the slopes, seeing
the sights, partying and making out. This is capped
by a goofy go-go sequence at a nightclub in which
two of the girls dance topless on the bar, shimmying
with licentious gusto. (It's a purely gratuitous
means of getting more nudity into the picture
but I have absolutely no problem with this.) Revelry
dispensed with, the group is next seen driving
through the night along a desolate rural road.
Their rented landrover runs out of gas, forcing
them to make for a supposedly deserted lodge on
foot (and actually exchange dialog). The place
seems abandoned but once settled in they encounter
a silent, creepy butler who brings out a decanter
of wine, then disappears. One of the guys, Raoul,
forgoes the refreshment and instead wanders off
to explore the lodge by candlelight. His companions
all fall into a drugged sleep, during which Gustavo
appears and takes advantage of the slumbering
gals. Raoul encounters Ofelia, who wastes no time
getting him into bed; apparently content with
physical love, she does not bite him. When Raoul
awakens alone in the morning he discovers that
his girlfriend Laura and the other two female
tourists have disappeared. The guys search for
them to no avail.
Now I'm probably making
this sound much more interesting than it really
is. Mildly diverting up to this point, the film
takes a decidedly dull turn as the police are
summoned to find the missing girls and one by
one they turn up, each suffering the ill-effects
of Gustavo's bite. Laura is put in the hospital
and her brother —
a new character that contributes nothing to the
story (other than to also be seduced by Ofelia)
— shows up to help
Raoul. By now, not much of anything is
really happening that's truly interesting. (Other
than Beltrán's nude scenes, I mean.) The
movie just plods along to its rather flat climax,
which, though bloody by the standards of the day,
is something of a letdown. The problem, I think,
is an almost utter lack of dramatic tension...
No one takes up the mantle of vampire hunter;
there isn't a single confrontation between the
undead and the humans. Displays of female flesh
aside, this inevitably results in boredom. I'm
starting to yawn just thinking about it.
Though often tedious,
Blood Of The Virgins
remains an interesting curio for its Latin American
spin on the tried-and-true vampire tale, especially
when compared with the contemporary product of
the world's then-foremost purveyor of undead cinema,
Britain's Hammer Films. Hammer was still firmly
entrenched in the gothic milieu at this time.
Blood Of The Virgins
was made in-between the release of Dracula
— Prince Of Darkness
(1966) and Dracula
Has Risen From The Grave (1968); the
Argentine film's difference in tone and eagerness
to push boundaries could not be more striking.
It seems odd that Vieyra, working in what was
then a repressive police state, could make a horror
film replete with sex, nudity and sangre
while Hammer would take three or four years to
catch up. (Argentina's government eventually banned
Blood Of The Virgins,
it should be noted.)
One aspect of the movie still
leaves me puzzled, though... Just who are the
"virgins" of the title supposed to be?
There isn't a single unsullied maiden in the entire
film!
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Previously
released in the U.K. for Region 2 DVD, Mondo Macabro
brings Blood Of The
Virgins to North
America in exemplary style, complimenting an obscure
title with a terrific set of bonus features. As
for the presentation of the film itself, the fullframe
transfer used here isn't exactly pristine but
is reputedly taken from the best existing elements.
Generally it looks great. The only letdown is
the somewhat scratchy audio. Fortunately it's
adequate to the task and doesn't compromise enjoyment
of the show. (Since the film was never dubbed
into English, dialog is in Spanish with easy-to-read
subtitles.)
I wasn't really expecting
to get many extras with a movie almost no one's
ever heard of, so my surprise was a pleasant one.
An episode of the U.K. TV show Mondo Macabro
provides an entertaining overview of Argentine
exploitation films. Divided into two segments,
the first concentrates on director Emilio Vierya
(best known for his gonzo horror-sex thriller
The Curious Dr. Humpp),
who comments on the many problems he had with
government censors, while the often banned films
of Isabel Sarli — the sultry, bodaciously stacked
sex goddess of the 1960s — are the focus of the
second. (After seeing clips of her in Fuego,
I have firmly resolved to eventually see that
notorious flick!) Also offered: a Blood
Of The Virgins still
gallery, trailers for eight Vierya films (to include
action movies, dramas, and even a musical along
with his forays into horror), another terrific
Pete Tombs essay, and the same Mondo Macabro promo
reel seen on the Mill
Of The Stone Women DVD.
3/30/04
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