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Category: monochrome

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Plot: philandering historian is beguiled by a woman who might, or might not, be a witch.

La strega in amore (or The Witch In Love, released in the Anglo-Saxon world as simply The Witch) is something of a minor entry in the Italian gothic horror canon that marks an interesting stylistic turning point despite its relative but enduring obscurity. Based on the 1962 novel Aura by Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes and not nearly as kitschy/camp as Italian horror was wont to be around this time perhaps the greatest thing that The Witch In Love has going for it is its minimalism approach. At heart more of a film noir (a troubled, philandering man is seduced by a mysterious femme fatale) with a gothic bend rather than a full-on horror there’s much to be had if you know where to look. Just like The Demon (1963) (with Daliah Lavi) before it The Witch In Love is more of a reflection of then-contemporary times and values rather than a contemplation upon it. And just like that film it was one of the many Italian gothics to inspire Anna Bilder’s The Love Witch (2016). The Witch In Love is an elegant fusion of genres, is beautifully multi-faceted and like Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (1970) it becomes that what you want it to be. It’s all here, carefully and seamlessly weaved together into a quiet genre piece.

Damiano Damiani got his start as a cartoonist, illustrator and scriptwriter in comics before eventually moving to screenwriting. Film critic Paolo Mereghetti described him as, "the most American of Italian directors" whereas Pier Paolo Pasolini was less kind in his assessment calling him, "a bitter moralist hungry for old purity." Damiani experienced his personal golden age during the sixties when he alternated between spaghetti westerns, socio-political Mafia crime epics and poliziottesco. While not as remembered as some of his contemporaries he has his share of classics in the form of A Complicated Girl (1968) (with Florinda Bolkan), The Most Beautiful Wife (1970) (with Ornella Muti), Confessions of a Police Captain (1971), and The Devil Is A Woman (1974). North American audiences might remember him from Amityville II: The Possession (1982) that he directed for producer Dino de Laurentiis. Back at home in Italy he famously directed the first season of the long-running Mafia series The Octopus (1984-2001). The Witch In Love was one of those rare instances where Damiani ventured into horror. As always it is photographed beautifully, scored unobtrusively and Damiani permeates it with his impeccable style and atmosphere.

Forty-something historian Sergio Logan (Richard Johnson) is intrigued by a mysterious white-cloaked figure that he keeps seeing wherever he goes. After a number of personal setbacks his girlfriend Marta (Elisabetta Wilding) is content that Logan has given up on his philandering ways. Or so she thinks. One day he sees an ad in the newspaper and talks to his artist friend Lorna (Margherita Guzzinati) about this potential employer. On his way to the interview he asks a local antique dealer (Ester Carloni) about the identity of the figure but answers remain cryptic and elusive. The figure leads him to an aging decrepit palatial mansion hidden deeply in the bowels of Rome. The white-cloaked figure introduces herself as Consuelo Lorente (Sarah Ferrati), the middle-aged matron of an ancient noble bloodline. Within the nighted halls of the mansion the silhouette of another woman appears seemingly out of nowhere. Aura (Rosanna Schiaffino) is the withdrawn and world-weary granddaughter of the domineering Consuelo and she has Sergio instantly beguiled. Consuelo informs him that as a live-in librarian he’ll be expected to clean and organize their dusty, rat-infested and long neglected private library. He’ll be cataloguing manuscripts and compile a personal collection of erotic literature penned by the late family patriarch. Apropos of nothing, Consuelo conveys to him that Aura’s husband Fabrizio (Gian Maria Volontè) volunteered for the job before him but grew slightly mad from isolation in the dark halls and having two seductive women around distracting him. It seems Sergio is in need of an assistant librarian (Ivan Rassimov) to complete the task. As Sergio embarks on a steamy affair with Aura he realizes he’s been lured into a web of seduction and deception on the promise of untold pleasure and fortune. What terrible secret dwells within the ancient library and the halls of their sarcophagal abode?

Richard Johnson was one of those classically trained British actors who never ascended to the level of stardom that they probably deserved. Johnson was a consummate professional who effortlessly alternated between serious fare and high camp. He honed his craft as a cornerstone member and Associate Artist of the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC). Johnson was director Terence Young's preferred choice for the role of James Bond in Dr. No (1962). Johnson intended to play the role as a straight, hard-boiled man of action but had to decline the part due to his contract with MGM. Young then offered the role to a young Scotsman by the name of Sean Connery who played up the innate camp of the role and material. His first foray into horror came with The Haunting (1963) and his second billing in The Amorous Adventures of Moll Flanders (1965) would culminate in his marriage to headlining star Kim Novak. Johnson shared the screen with Charlton Heston and Laurence Olivier in Khartoum (1966) and from there portrayed British special agents Bulldog Drummond in Deadlier Than the Male (1967) (opposite of Elke Sommer and Sylva Koscina) and Jonas Wilde in Danger Route (1967). He crossed paths with Schiaffino again in the Terence Young swashbuckling adventure The Rover (1967) before reprising his Drummond role in Some Girls Do (1969). He continued to work in Italy with The Exorcist (1973) imitations Beyond the Door (1974) and The Night Child (1975) before his legendary turn in Lucio Fulci’s Zombie (1979). Johnson was married a handful of times with Françoise Pascal as his fourth partner. Pascal had parts in Pete Walker’s School for Sex (1969) and became a cult icon of her own thanks to her association with Jean Rollin and roles in The Iron Rose (1973) and the pandemic shocker (and first French gore film) The Grapes Of Death (1978).

Rosanna Schiaffino was one of the classic beauties from the Golden Age of Italian cinema. While she was off to a promising start in post-neorealist cinema of the 1950s with Piece of the Sky (1958) (where she shared the screen with Marcello Mastroianni) from producer Franco Cristaldi. He cast both again in The Challenge (1958) that won the Jury Prize on the 1958 Venice Film Festival. As the crème de la crème of leading ladies she was positioned as the "Italian Hedy Lamarr" albeit she had more in common with Gina Lollobrigida and Sophia Loren. She relinquished said title to Claudia Cardinale at the dawn of the sixties. Schiaffino’s other more remembered roles are in the peplum spoof The Rape of the Sabines (1961) and the giallo The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974). For reasons largely unknown to us Schiaffino never ascended to the international sex symbol status of her contemporaries Monica Vitti, Stefania Sandrelli, or Virna Lisi.

Ivan Rassimov was seemingly part of every major cinematic innovation and genre in Italy. As a character actor he – like Gabriele Tinti and George Eastman – was an irrepressible, immovable pillar that adamantly refused to go away. His appearance here came after his role in the Mario Bava sci-fi epic The Planet Of the Vampires (1965) and before before his enshrining as a leading man in spaghetti western, in giallo during the seventies, and cannibal gutmunchers in the eighties. Rassimov was everywhere and did it all. As such he could be seen in Sergio Martino’s The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh (1971), and All Colors Of the Dark (1972) (both with Edwige Fenech); the Me Me Lai cannibal triptych Man From Deep River (1972), The Last Cannibal World (1977), and Eaten Alive! (1980), the amusing The Exorcist (1973) imitation Enter the Devil (1974) (with Stella Carnacina), as well as the Star Wars (1978) knock-off The Humanoid (1979), and Ruggero Deodato’s very enjoyable sci-fi/action romp The Raiders Of Atlantis (1983). Gian Maria Volontè was a peplum veteran known mostly for appearing in Sergio Leone’s A Fistful Of Dollars (1964) and For A Few Dollars More (1965).

While not true to the letter of the short novel The Witch In Love stays true to it in spirit. It follows the general outline but isn’t afraid to take aristic liberties (some more drastic than others) with the source material either. Compared to Hammer and some other Italian gothics from around this time The Witch In Love is brazenly post-modern. For starters it completely excises the supernatural elements and medievalism by setting it in then-contemporary times. Compared to other gothic horrors of the day it’s quite minimalist in both setting and story. It does not nearly have the pomp of, say, Antonio Margheriti’s Castle of Blood (1964) and The Long Hair of Death (1964) or the ornate production design of Mario Bava’s The Mask Of Satan (1960). Like Camillo Mastrocinque’s Terror In the Crypt (1964) and An Angel For Satan (1966) its overflowing with atmosphere and its never afraid to turn up the heat, especially when Schiaffino engages in her alluring dance of seduction. In fact the affair that Johnson and Schiaffino’s characters embark on must have been fairly scandalous for the time. Despite being painted as a bitter moralist Damiani wasn’t afraid to push the envelope when and where he could. A lot of the times, less is more. The Witch In Love understands this and while it has no reason to work, it actually does. Perhaps there’s a reason why The Witch In Love is overlooked but quality is certainly not it.

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Plot: aristocratic vampire and his aides terrorize sleepy Filipino village.

Kulay dugo ang gabi (The Night Is the Color of Blood or Blood Is the Color of Night, Google Translate insists on the former, the cult blogosphere at large on the latter. Regardless, it was released internationally as The Blood Drinkers and, for a later reissue, The Vampire People) influenced by Universal horror films and the Hammer horrors of the day and, more importantly perhaps, is historic for being "the first color horror picture produced in the Philippines.” It was based on a serial komik (which one is a mystery to us at this point) from Hiwaga Komiks by Rico Bello Omagap and illustrator Jim Fernandez. Directed by Gerardo de León, produced by the Filipino Roger Corman, Cirio H. Santiago with his Premiere Productions in association with AM Productions for Hemisphere Pictures; The Blood Drinkers is a pompous partially in color gothic horror with that undeniable Southeast Asian flavour and an all-star cast including Ronald Remy, Amalia Fuentes, and Celia Rodriguez. The Blood Drinkers might very well be the first Filipino vampire horror and is alternatively delightfully old-fashioned or completely campy. Before the Blood Island saga brought Filipino madness to grindhouses around the world, there was The Blood Drinkers.

Gerardo “Gerry” Ilagan de León (or Gerardo de León) was a medical doctor who left the profession to start acting in 1934. After appearing in front of the camera for eight pictures he decided he was more at home behind it when he took up directing in 1939. During World War II de León produced a spate of anti-American propaganda films in alliance with the occupying Japanese forces. For this he was arrested, imprisoned, charged with treason, and sentenced to be executed by government officials. He was exonerated at the last minute when exculpatory evidence that he had aided the Filipino resistance surfaced. De Léon had directed Terror Is a Man (1959) - a fairly conservative (and semi-faithful) big screen adaptation of H.G. Wells’ The Island Of Dr. Moreau – just five years earlier. Not only did de León give the Philippines its first multi-part vampire epic, together with his erstwhile protégé Eddie Romero he contributed to the Blood Island saga by directing Brides of Blood (1968) and Mad Doctor of Blood Island (1969) for Hemisphere Pictures. His career spanned an impressive four decades before grinding to a halt in 1976. He was the most awarded director in Filipino history winning seven FAMAS Awards (three of them consecutively) from 1952 to 1971. In 1982 he was posthumously bestowed the title of National Artist by the Order of National Artists of the Philippines for his contributions to the development of Philippine art. His enduring legacy and cultural importance was reflected when the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA) in association with the Philippine Postal Corporation ran a limited line of commemorative stamps in 2013.

Ronald Remy would later play Dr. Lorca in de León’s Mad Doctor of Blood Island (1968). He was nominated for a FAMAS (Filipino Academy of Movie Arts and Sciences) Award for Best Actor but lost to Joseph Estrada (who would form the Movie Workers Welfare Foundation or Mowelfund in 1974 as well as the Metro Manila Film Festival in 1975 and would later serve as the Mayor of Manila and as the 13th president of the Philippines from 1998 to 2001). Remy would later turn to directing himself. Likewise was Amalia Fuentes nominated for a FAMAS Award for Best Actress for her Barbare Steele-esque double role but lost to Marlene Daudén. Fuentes was dubbed the "Queen of Philippine Movies" and the “Elizabeth Taylor of the Philippines” by fans and critics alike and starred in over 130 films. In the '60s Asia Magazine crowned her “Asia’s Most Beautiful Actress” and in 1964 she became the first-ever Filipina ambassador for Lux bath soap. All through the 1960s to the end of the 1970s she wrote, produced, starred (and sometimes directed) in the films she made with her own production company AM (Amalia Muhlach) Productions. She also served as a member of the Movie and Television Review and Classification Board (MTRCB) and was one of the highest paid actresses of her generation. Celia Rodriguez on the other hand did win a FAMAS Award for Best Supporting Actress. Implacable pulp pillar Vic Díaz lends only his voice this time around and was last seen around these parts in Naked Fist (1981) and Raw Force (1982). Consider this the Filipino The Vampire and the Ballerina (1960) or The Monster of the Opera (1964) and a precursor to Spain’s Fangs Of the Living Dead (1969), replete with all the heaving bosoms and religious overtones you’d want. Not strange then that this won FAMAS Awards for Best Picture and Best Director.

After an unspecified time abroad local member of nobility (and landowner) Doña Marissa (Mary Walter) has returned to her native Philippines to arrange a heart transplant for her daughter Katrina (Amalia Fuentes). Since she was only able to take one daughter abroad she left her identical twin sister Charito (Amalia Fuentes) in care of poor peasants Elias (Paquito Salcedo) and Losela (Felisa Salcedo). During her time away Marissa has fallen in with the vampire cult led by Katrina’s bald physician (and lover) Dr. Marco (Ronald Remy) who will oversee the procedure. Marissa has promised Marco to arrange a suitable donor for Katrina’s procedure. Who a better candidate for said transplant than her estranged twin sister Charito? Marco is madly in love with the ailing Katrina but this does not stop his assistant Tanya (Celia Rodriguez) from vying for his affections. The arrival of Dr. Marco and his entourage (including the hunchback Gordo and a midget, both mute) coincide with a spate of exsanguinations of nubile village maidens in the surrounding jungle. Charito is courted by the suave and metropolitan Victor de la Cruz (Eddie Fernandez) while her best friend Ruben (Renato Robles) has an unrequited love for her. When her foster parents are brutally slain in a nocturnal vampire assault Doña Marissa offers to take Charito in now that she’s functionally a warden of the state. Thanks to her social and political sway Marissa is able to obfuscate, inveigle, and deceive local authorities. Only the pious village priest (Andres Benitez, with the voice of Vic Díaz) is able to see through the aristocrats’ deception and recognize the situation for what it truly is. Will the priest’s belief and the combined power of Charito’s friends be enough to withstand and ward off the vampyric threat that has consumed their sleepy peasant village?

In age-old gothic horror tradition The Blood Drinkers is a morality play on good and evil and a very Catholic one at that. If the heavy-handed narration doesn’t make it clear, the continual religious iconography certainly will (or should). What this most resembles is a very loose retelling of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. The main plot recreates most of the key events and each lead character has a book counterpart and is true to their respective arc. Dr. Marco is Count Dracula, Charito and Katrina are Elisabeta and Mina Murray Harker, Victor de la Cruz and Ruben are Jonathan Harker, Tanya and Doña Marissa are R. M. Renfield, and the priest as Professor Abraham Van Helsing. The Living Corpse (1967) from director Khwaja Sarfraz did the unlicensed adaptation thing a lot smoother than de León and Cesar Amigo do here. The Living Corpse (1967) is even more impressive considering it was made in Pakistan. More than anything the color scheme is what ensured this its cinematic longevity. Since color stock was in short supply in the Philippines and thus too expensive to use carelessly The Blood Drinkers was shot alternately in color and black-and-white (later tinted in hues of blue, pink, red, magenta). Not only does this color-coding greatly enhance the atmosphere, it actually has a contextual function. Whenever Marco appears - or whenever the vampires prey on their victims and dread rises - the screen will be painted red (characters will even break the fourth wall and exclaim “It’s all red!”), suspenseful scenes are dyed in blue with pink and magenta appearing for the character scenes in between. There are scenes in color, but they are far and few, and headscratchingly random. A harana ensemble has an entire dedicated color segment for their nightside courtship serenade, a young maiden is exsanguinated in the jungle by Marco but the kill is not in color whereas the immediate aftermath is. It truly boggles the mind. The score from Tito Arevalo is suitably bombastic, portentious, and creaky. Oh yeah, there’s even a rubber bat on a string that the American distributors loved. As always, the original Tagalog version (with subtitles) is preferable but the edited international English-language version is charming in its own dim-witted American way.

Perhaps there’s a point to be made that The Blood Drinkers might be a tad too quirky for some (where else are you going to see a bald vampire wearing cool sunglasses and alternatively dressing in a cape in one scene and in mod-fabulous attire in the other?) and for those who thought The Dracula Saga (1973) wasn’t insane enough or for whom Fangs Of the Living Dead (1969) didn’t have enough family dysfunction and all the attendant melodramatics, this will certainly tide you over. The Blood Drinkers contains some of the biggest names of the First Golden Age of Filipino weird cinema, both in front and behind the camera. If this gives you the occassional The Playgirls and the Vampire (1960) vibe, you’re not wrong. While not overtly comical there are several things (the sunglasses, the rubber bat, the bad wigs, the dubbing, et al), whether intended that way or not, that the ensuing six decades have made unintentionally funny. Regardless of the kitsch (again, your mileage on that may vary) The Blood Drinkers stands as a monument of Pinoy cult cinema. It helped usher in an era of prosperity of domestic exploitation cinema and saw its domestic features exported around the world. The Philippines and its exploitation industry became so attractive during the wicked and wild 1970s and the decadent 1980s that the island all but was a second home for American, Italian and other foreign exploitation moguls. Two years later it was graced with the even better spiritual sequel Blood of the Vampires (1966). While Terror Is a Man (1959) was certainly the true pioneer, The Blood Drinkers put the Philippines on the international pulp cinema map – and for that reason alone it has more than earned its place in exploitation history.