Blood Hunger: The Films of José Larraz Limited Edition Box Set
Directed by José Larraz.
Starring Karl Lanchbury, Vivian Neves, Pia Andersson, Marianne Morris, Anulka Dziubinska, Murray Brown, Michael Byrne, Patricia Granada, Lidia Zuazo, Rafael Machado, and Larry Dann.
SYNOPSIS:
Limited edition box set containing three genre-straddling movies from the 1970s by Spanish director José Larraz.
José Ramón Larraz is not a name that immediately springs to mind when genre filmmakers are discussed but there is a good chance that if you are a genre fan then you have at least seen Vampyres, probably the most well known of his movies (although his film Symptoms has had a splendid BFI Blu-ray release), thanks to its sub-Hammer Gothic stylings and its very British settings. Despite being born in Spain, Larraz moved to England in the ‘60s and in the 1970s carved himself a career as a film director with certain characteristics that he returned to in most of his films, most notably themes of sex and death but with twists.
The first film in this box set is Larraz’s debut feature Whirlpool, a grimy little exploitation thriller in the same vein as Wes Craven’s The Last House on the Left (which this film predated by two years), in which glamour model Tulia (Vivian Neves) hooks up with pornographic photographer Theo (Larraz regular Karl Lanchbury) and the pair retreat to the country house he shares with his aunt Sara (Pia Andersson), although he also seems to share his bed with ‘aunty’ and events spiral out of control as Tulia is forced to engage in all sorts of debauchery with Theo, Sara and Theo’s rapist drug dealer friend.
With a thin plot that sounds a lot more interesting on paper than it looks in execution, Whirlpool comes across like a debut feature, being full of wooden acting, underwritten characters and some awkward direction that leaves the film feeling like it needed another pass through the editor’s scissors to make it flow a little easier. However, the grim and grimy tone is very effective and something that a lot of ‘70s grindhouse movies would come to embrace, and if you crave a fix of lesbian sex featuring a beautiful young woman and a creepy older woman – something that Larraz would return to again and again – then Whirlpool ticks those boxes. Just be prepared to be underwhelmed.
1974’s Vampyres is next and it is clear to see that Larraz had upped his game since Whirlpool. The story, such as it is, is about two lesbian vampires who haunt an old mansion – the same one used in several Hammer movies – and wander out to the nearby road to flag down passers-by in order to satiate their lust for blood and sex, and that is about it. Not much to go on if plot is a deciding factor in your viewing habits but Vampyres is that rarity of being an erotic sexploitation horror movie that delivers on all fronts.
The two female vampires are played by Marianne Morris and Anulka, neither of whom are ‘proper’ actresses but were cast because José Larraz believed them to have the right qualities needed to be an undead lesbian vampire in a sexy horror movie, i.e. they look stunning and weren’t shy, although according to the commentary by Kat Ellinger, Marianne Morris had to have a few drinks before filming a certain shower scene with Anulka. The softcore sex is graphic without being distasteful and there is plenty of blood being sprayed about and lapped up to keep the horror fans happy, and technically Larraz is on top of his game here creating a murky Gothic atmosphere complete with misty graveyards and candlelit voyeurism, making Vampyres a much more satisfying alternative to Hammer’s comparatively tame Karnstein trilogy.
Which leaves 1978s The Coming of Sin, which is probably the most problematic of Larraz’s movies in that the BBFC got their hands on it and cut it to shreds for its original theatrical and subsequent VHS/DVD releases. Alternative titles for this one include La Visita del Vicio, Sodomia, Vice Makes a Visit and, more provocatively, Violation of the Bitch and, much like Vampyres, there isn’t a lot of plot going on but there is a lot of José Larraz trying out a lot of ideas that he wouldn’t have gotten away with under Spain’s previous fascist rule.
In this movie, wealthy artist Lorna (Patricia Granada) takes in gypsy servant girl Triana (Lidia Zuazo) when Triana’s foster parents leave the country. Triana has a recurring nightmare of a naked man on horseback who keeps trying to sexually assault her, and as Triana and Lorna begin a steamy affair the man materialises as Chico (Rafael Machado), who immediately places himself between the two women, causing Triana’s jealousy to explode in violence.
Another love triangle story, The Coming of Sin was filmed in Spain and feels a lot more European than the other two movies in this set, a quality also helped by the use of flamenco music and a lot of soft focus, and the nature of the story gives voice to a subtext of religious and cultural commentary but the arty, almost dream-like quality of the direction is very plodding and the running time feels a lot longer than 90 minutes. The sex is explicit, with the original bondage scenes that the BBFC saw fit to cut out having been reinstated, and the acting is awful but given the setting and the story there should be a lot more here than what we actually get, which is essentially an erotic fever dream stretched out to feature-length proportions.
All restored in 2K, the three films are quite grainy but the colour correction gives them a boldness that stands out, especially Vampyres where there is a lot of darkness and candlelight. There is a stack of extra features for each film, including audio commentaries from the likes of genre experts Kat Ellinger and Tim Lucas that give a lot of background on José Larraz, and several interviews and featurettes, the most valuable being an interview with writer/critic Kim Newman, who gives context on Larraz as a filmmaker, and a piece about the many different versions of The Coming of Sin with Nucleus Films’ Marc Morris. There is also a short film by Larraz’s friend Simon Birrell, an archival interview with Larraz, brand new interviews with the cast and crew of Vampyres, an interview with Larraz’s friend Victor Matellano, who directed the Vampyres remake in 2015, and it all comes housed in a lovely box with an 80-page book featuring writings about José Larraz by Jo Botting, Tim Greaves and Vanity Celis. Overall, Blood Hunger: The Films of José Larraz is an intriguing set that sheds a bit of light on an extremely underrated genre filmmaker, and whilst Vampyres is the true standout of the set in terms of filmmaking and entertainment, the other two films do have their merits, although there are other movies in Larraz’s filmography that stand up to modern scrutiny a lot better. Nevertheless, it is still a treat for collectors to have Blu-ray editions of these films and hopefully this set will serve as an introduction to José Larraz for those not fully aware of his voice in genre cinema.
Flickering Myth Rating – Whirlpool – Film: ★ ★/ Movie: ★ ★ ★
Flickering Myth Rating – Vampyres – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Flickering Myth Rating – The Coming of Sin – Film: ★ ★/ Movie: ★ ★
Chris Ward
