Director: Roy Ward Baker
Screenplay: Tudor Gates, based on “Carmilla” by Sheridan Le Fanu
Starring: Ingrid Pitt; George Cole, Kate O’Mara, Peter Cushing, Madeline Smith
Release Date: October 4th, 1970
Throughout the late 1950’s and 60’s Britain’s Hammer Film Productions excelled as purveyors of lurid re-imaginings of the horrors of cinema’s past. From the horror of Christopher Lee’s satanic Count Dracula, the terror of Peter Cushing’s evil Doctor Frankenstein, through to the tragedy of Oliver Reed’s lycanthropy-afflicted Leon Corledo, seeing the words “A Hammer Films Production” guaranteed a lushly realized period setting, sterling performances from a rotating stable of fine British thespians and, most importantly, ounces of blood and heaving bosoms in all of their Technicolor glory. Audiences on both sides of the Atlantic eagerly devoured these ghoulish new takes on classic creature features, but by the end of the 1960’s and the advent of taboo-shattering nightmares presented by such films as ROSEMARY’S BABY and NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, what was once considered shocking had begun to seem stale and passe. At the behest of their co-financiers at American International Pictures, Hammer’s next picture needed to amp up the sex and violence quotient considerably in order to compete in a market quickly becoming saturated with bloodshed. Having experienced their greatest success with HORROR OF DRACULA and its many sequels, the studio decided to tread familiar ground when it produced THE VAMPIRE LOVERS, another adaptation of a literary vampire tale, this time Sheridan Le Fanu’s novella “Carmilla”. The final product is a moody, sensual, gloriously gothic melding of old school scares and shocking (for the time) modern sexual politics, detailing the reign of terror enacted by a lusty, busty lesbian vampiress in 18th century Germany.
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| They could have easily retitled this flick THE DEVIL'S BOOB JOB, and it would have been just as effective. |
The film opens in classic Hammer fashion, with a questionable matte painting of a castle overlooking a moonlit graveyard, where Baron Hartog (Douglas Wilmer) witnesses an unholy creature draped in a diaphanous gown rise from the mist in search of it’s next victim. When the creature encounters the Baron, it reveals itself as a stunning blonde who instantly transfixes the Baron with her beauty. That is, until her boobs happen to graze the crucifix around his neck, at which point the bombshell vamps out and Hartog violently hacks her head off with his sword. In less than five minutes the film has set the tone for what is to come, delivering boobs, blood, and the promise of blood-covered boobs.
Following this prologue the story then jumps forward an untold number of years, as General von Spieldorf (Cushing) holds a ball at his expansive estate. One of the guests is a Countess who brings along her niece, Marcella (Pitt), a shapely young governess who instantly draws the attention of every male (and female) in attendance. After the Countess receives word that one of her relatives is ill, Spieldorf offers take to care of Marcella while she is away. What Spieldorf doesn’t realize is that this is all a ruse perpetuated by Marcella, who is actually an unholy, undead creature of the night named Carmilla, descended from the evil Karnstein’s, a family of vampires thought to have been killed off centuries before. Soon Carmilla befriends and quickly seduces Spieldorf’s young niece Laura, who grows paler by the day. When Laura finally dies, Carmilla vanishes from the General’s house, only to arrive several days later at the home of Roger Morton (Cole) and his daughter Emma (Smith). Carmilla instantly becomes obsessed with Emma and, in a series of increasingly erotic encounters, consistently persuades the young woman to abandon the phallocentric world of the living and join her in an eternity of naked pillow fights. Will Emma give in to these confusing urges? Can a lesbian vampire in stuffy 18th century Europe really find true love? Will Laura’s grieving suitor Carl finally piece together the identity of Emma’s new friend in time to prevent her from becoming a sweet, sexy daughter of Satan? And are we ever going to get to the slow motion scissoring scene?
THE VAMPIRE LOVERS sounds rather silly on paper, but in practice….actually, it’s still pretty damned silly. The film is full of subtext that is about as subtle as a machete to the face, most glaringly in the scenes in which Carmilla feasts on her sleeping victims. Each of the girls experiences these encounters as a nightmare in which they are smothered by what they say is a giant cat, but which actually looks like a giant bearskin rug. Yes, you read that correct. When the girls are getting their blood sucked by the lesbian vampire (who bites then on the breast, by the way), they imagine themselves being suffocated by an enormous pussy. Apparently in 18th century Germany, carpet munches you!
Speaking of full-frontal Victorian nudity, this flick is chock-full of it! From about the half-hour mark on, Pitt and co-star Madeline Smith take every opportunity to drop their corsets, including a ridiculous(ly awesome!!!) and unnecessary scene in which Carmilla hops out of a bathtub, goads Emma into taking off all of her clothes, and then chases her around the bedroom while light-hearted music frollicks about on the soundtrack. It’s all totally gratuitous and totally in keeping with the exploitation standards of the time, yet never seems particularly sleazy. Considering the deplorable depths other films of the era plumbed for quick thrills, the scenes of lesbianic lovemaking in THE VAMPIRE LOVERS come across fairly tastefully, and to be perfectly honest, are really goddamned hot. As the object of Carmilla’s lust, Madeline Smith perfectly captures the adorable cluelessness and utter helplessness of Emma, and the supporting cast is made up of various Hammer veterans, most notably Cushing and John Forbes-Robertson. Cushing is sorely missed during the film’s midsection, but returns just in time to deliver one of it’s best lines in the final scene, while Robertson is eerily effective in the small role of Carmilla’s guardian, a salacious vampire horseman who watches the entire proceedings from afar.
Roy Ward Baker, a veteran of numerous Hammer productions, delivers the usual goods from a directorial standpoint. The film is dripping with gothic imagery of ghoulish graveyards and several stylish shots, including a rather neat zoom out through a key hole. The best directed scene in the film is without a doubt when Carmilla, framed entirely in silhouette, undresses and seduces Emma’s governess, Mademoiselle Perrodot (O’Mara). Through careful composition and lighting Baker is able to effectively disturb and titillate his audience. The only real complaints I can lob at the film is the total disappearance and lack of explanation of the Countess character and, despite the presence of a strong-willed female villainess, it’s reinforcement of the notion that the staunchly male establishment is the only cure-all for tawdry, ungodly lesbianism. And so the film culminates in a scene in which the stern male authority figures exert their dominance by penetrating Carmilla’s bosom with a large wooden stake. The symbolism is about as subtle as, well, a blunt wooden shaft piercing a titty.
But if you can look past the filmmaker’s very on-the-nose approach to the sexual politics on display, what you will find is a well-produced little low-budget gem, brimming with atmospheric direction, passionate performances and searing sexual tension. THE VAMPIRE LOVERS is a very fun, highly erotic twist on a familiar story that refuses to die. In fact, I was so enamored by this tawdry tale that I’ve already begun working on the screenplay for my unofficial sequel. I’m calling it, THE SCISSORING SUCCUBI.
My Rating:
7.5/10
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| Ahem! And, um.....these lovely ladies all get 10's. |
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