Terror Transmission

The Rites of Frankenstein (La maldicion de Frankenstein, The Curse of Frankenstein, The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein) – 1972 – Spain/France – Image Entertainment

Whatever happened, Jess Franco? You went from gothic masterpieces like “The Sadistic Baron Von Klaus” and “The Awful Dr. Orloff” to avant-garde awesomeness like “The Diabolical Dr. Z” and “Vampyros Lesbos” to utter shite like this sorry mess. I know you refer to your early higher-quality pictures as “museum pieces,” and that you lost your (and our) beloved Soledad Miranda to an untimely demise, but really! Your decline is made so much more bewildering to us because of the potential you showed in your nascent career. But I digress…

No sooner does Dr. Frankenstein (Dennis Price) and his lackey Morpho (Jess Franco in one of his frequent cameos) succeed in animating a silver-skinned Monster than their creation is stolen by a ridiculous Bird-Woman (Anne Libert in a body stocking with green feathers glued to it) and the thug Caronte (the ubiquitous Luis Barboo) at the behest of master-magician Cagliostro (the likewise omnipresent Howard Vernon). Morpho and Dr. Frankenstein are killed in the brief altercation and the Monster is spirited away to Cagliostro’s lair to inseminate a lucky cultist and populate the world with a race of super-humans to rule the world in Cagliostro’s name! The good Doctor’s daughter, Vera Frankenstein (Beatriz Savon), is conveniently a super-scientist herself and proceeds to reanimate her father (thrice!) long enough to learn the whereabouts of his Monster. So off she goes to Cagliostro’s chateau-by-the-sea to be captured, mesmerized into Cagliostro’s service, and finally tortured and nearly raped by the Monster whose silver body paint is beginning to rub off in the obvious places. Throw in some awkward detective work by Dr. Seward (Alberto Dalbes), some surrealist tableau involving an unconvincing undead cult, and a possessed gypsy named Esmeralda (Lina Romay, Franco’s longtime lover and favorite leading lady) and you have this baffling muddle of a movie. It should be said that this flick has a truly fine experimental score by Daniel White, but it seems jarringly out-of-place amongst the idiocy that takes place on screen. Franco, being an accomplished musician himself, realized the importance of the score but really could have put a little more effort into the other filmic necessities like plotting and acting. Advocates might point to the fact that European cinema tends to throw narrative out the window in favor of visual flair and atmosphere, but this film succeeds only too infrequently in those departments as well. There are the occasionally atmospheric wide-angle shots and Franco manages to ease off on the zoom lense he is pejoratively known for, but this one feels like amateur hour all the way. You can keep your Frankenstein’s Monster and I’ll take Dr. Orloff and some lesbian vampires anyday.

Jason’s Grade: D+