Countess Irina Karlstein (Lina Romay) vacations on the island of Madeira, where her family’s vampirism has become myth. However, it is quite real, and as she kills locals for their life force, a few believers seek her out, several to destroy her, and a poet to be with her.
As the credits appear, we see a beautiful and sexy young woman, clad in only a cape, belt, and boots, walking toward the viewer. The camera jerks now and again, but that’s OK as all attention is focused on the nearly nude figure. The poor focus is more of a problem, as it makes it hard to see this vision. And this sensual female steps closer, and closer, and then…bumps into the camera lens. Yes, she hits it with her face, and no, this isn’t a comedy. Now there are several questions that the “whack” brings to my mind, such as: Couldn’t she see the camera or was she so obedient that she just kept following her instructions to walk forward even after it was obviously a bad idea? But the biggest question is why did writer-director-editor-cinematographer-cameraman Jesus Franco (he did them all using different names) put that in the final cut? It isn’t the last “why did he do that?” type question that popped to my mind while watching Female Vampire, a film that bears a striking resemblance to the work of any guy with a camcorder and a willing girlfriend.
Primarily, Female Vampire exists to show off the substantial charms of Lina Romay, who spends most of the film naked or nearly so, rolling around on a bed by herself or with a victim. Her thrashing about shows little choreography. I suspect Franco’s direction consisted of, “OK, wiggle, and show some sexual interest toward that pillow.” I doubt she ever saw dailies, which would have helped her in choosing more satisfying movements. While she could have been more artistic, I cannot complain about her enthusiasm and can think of many more unpleasant ways to spend a few hours than watching Romay in the buff.
While Romay can be forgiven any shortcoming, that’s not the case with Franco, who lacks even the basic skills of a director. Since he’s filming naked people, sometimes having sex, sometimes just laying there, I understand his uncontrollable desire for zoom shots, but these would work better if he zoomed in on something specific. More often than not, as he zooms, the camera drifts, and he ends up with a full screen shot of a patch of pale skin or a close-up of a mole. Occasionally, he stops short, getting half of a face (perhaps missing the nose). My best guess to explain the “style” of the movie is that Franco only had one camera, and wasn’t very good at moving it while shooting, so zooming was pretty much all he could manage for motion.
As for the story, don’t worry about it. It hardly exists. The Countess kills people by draining them during sex. Except for a poet who spends the first half of the film gazing out over the sea, the victims are no one in particular. In one instance, she attacks a leather-clad, bondage mistresses. Nothing in the film states why there are S&M fans sitting about ready to take on anyone who shows up. But then I shouldn’t expect much of anything to be stated when there is only approximately five minutes of dialog in the entire film, and most of that is pretentious statements like “Nothing can stop the march of destiny.” Ummmm. I guess not. I suppose that’s why it’s called destiny.
There is a professor, a doctor, and a police inspector, but nothing comes of their appearance in the film except to show the blind professor feeling a dead woman’s genitals, searching for the vampire’s mark.
The whole thing is submerged in early ’70s elevator music, which does nothing to help the mood. A reasonable score would have at least made this a music video.
Still, I can’t dismiss the film, in small part because it has supposedly affected so many European filmmakers, but mainly because Romay is certainly worth gazing at. I found my second viewing superior, when I watched it in the original French, without subtitles (as none were available). Not only is the English dubbing horrible, but it is a relief not to know what anyone is saying.
Female Vampire has been released under multiple titles. A version with hard-core insertions (which are not the original actors) goes by the title Insatiable Lust. Another cut, Erotic Kill, has many of the scenes replaced to create a slightly more traditional vampire film. In it, Romay is considerably more covered, and she bites her victims to drink their blood. Unless you are more sexually excited by blood than by a beautiful nude woman (or nude man), there is no reason to see, Erotic Kill.