Vampyros Lesbos (1971) is the crowning achievement of Spanish schlockmeister and Quentin Tarantino inspirator Jesus ‘Jess’ Franco. In a career spanning fifty years, the indefatigable Franco has covered the gamut of Z-grade film genres, from ‘women in prison’ to ‘nunsploitation’; his strong hand always that of ‘lesbian vampire’. The titles tell the tale: The Perverse Countess, The Bare-Breasted Countess, A Virgin Amongst the Living Dead…
Inspired by Sheridan le Fanu
But it is for Vampyros Lesbos that this still active octogenarian cine-mauler will be remembered. Leaning heavily on Sheridan le Fanu ’s classic vampire novella Carmilla, the plot revolves around beautiful bloodsucker Countess Nadine (Soledad Miranda). Via a seductive soft porn stage act in Istanbul, this stunning she-witch lures impressionable young girls to her remote island hideaway for bloodthirsty bouts of sapphic sex.
The Countess ‘glamours’ hot blonde Linda (Ewa Stromberg) soon after setting eyes on her. Linda then finds herself sent to Karadidis Island, to sort out business matters for a mysterious female aristocrat. As she strolls its seemingly deserted streets, the viewer is subjected to a series of ham-fistedly symbolic shots of scorpions and other assorted insects. Could Franco be trying to suggest Linda is being drawn into the Countess’s web? Or is he merely concealing inadequate camera coverage?
Cult Soundtrack
What does become evident at this point is the strength of the film’s hypnotic background music. In fact, the Vampyros Lesbos soundtrack has earned somewhat of a cult following. Co-composed by German guitar hero Siegfried Schwab, it is amongst the cooler music scores of European grindhouse.
The Countess’s lair is a swanky beachside abode. Out of sync foley effects accompany the clunking of Linda’s platforms on its tiled deck. Upon spotting blood dripping down its windows, she runs in fright – but the sight of the alluring Countess poolside in a low slung bikini gives her pause. As Linda approaches, the camera lingers on the Countess’s tanned legs; Franco is letting us know we're in for some serious girl-on-girl action.
To Schwab’s psychedelic backing track, the Countess invites Linda for a skinny dip. The fulsome twosome then sunbathe nude, a scene capped by one of the great lines of Euro-exploitation cinema: ‘It’s fun to lie naked in the sand. Especially with another person.’ A mysterious red kite hovers above. Is Franco attempting to evoke Lamorisse’s classic The Red Balloon (1956)? The viewer can only wonder…
70s Soft Porn
Inside the beach house, where Franco’s production designer has selected only the worst of 70s decor, the Countess informs Linda the property was bequeathed to her by a Count Dracula (a name ringing no alarm bells for the gormless girl). The Countess then drugs Linda, whereupon her footman Morpho carries the semi-conscious girl to the master bedroom. The Countess’s ravishing of Linda is 70s soft porn incarnate; a tribute to an era when erotic actresses never strayed too close to the waxing pot. Again Franco cuts to his red kite. What does it mean?
Returning to the mainland, Linda convinces herself it was all a bad dream. But she is called from her lover’s bed by the Countess. Offering blood from a grail, the Countess finally initiates her into the realm of love beyond the grave; as she sinks her fangs into Linda’s soft inviting throat, the trippy score rises to a crescendo.
Winding up in a nuthouse with other females ‘vamped’ by the Countess, Linda is kidnapped by Morpho. She winds up as featured feast in the same kinky Guignol stage act she witnessed in the opening scene. As bongo drums resound through the tavern, the Countess laps on Linda’s neck before a packed house.
Story Becomes Unhinged
The Countess then visits Dr. Seward (Dennis Price), who runs the asylum for the Countess’s victims. Intent on stopping him from standing between her and Linda, she discovers his real aim is to join the undead himself. Instead, she has Morpho strangle him. Bold wall shadows evoke Murneau, but the effect is utterly ruined by jerky camera work.
Now the plot really loses the plot. The husband of another patient who was vampirized by the Countess has turned serial killer. Taking Linda captive, he attempts to perform oral sex on the stricken girl. She beheads him with a saw. Upon her escape, Linda returns to the island for a final showdown with the Countess.
The denouement is suitably demented, and the film’s final lines may sum up the solipsistic state of any viewer committed enough to make it through: ‘It wasn’t a dream. Unbelievable as it may seem.’