Die Geliebte des Vampirs

The first time I saw THE VAMPIRE AND THE BALLERINA, it was in an 8-millimeter version that belonged to my cousin(remember the old 8 and Super 8 millimeter versions of old movies you could buy at K-mart and show on your folks home movie projectors?)That abbreviated version only included the final scene, and honestly, that was the best part of this Italian-made horror cheapie that obviously filled out many a drive-in double feature or "shock theater" spooky show on independant television. A troupe of dancers come to a spooky medieval castle for . . . some reason. It's not clear. At any rate, they're accompanied by several males: a choreographer, a male dancer, and a boyfriend(if I remember). The next door neighbors in the ajoining castle are a strange, imperious woman and her male servant who, in his more interesting moments, turns into a mouldering, rubber-faced vampire. But who are they really? Is the woman the master of the vampire, or the vampire the master of the woman? The vampire attacks one of the dancers(the "ballerina" of the title)and makes her his slave, which leads two of the male characters to chase the vampire and the mysterious lady to a thrilling rooftop climax! Inbetween there's lots of nonsensical action, such as dialogue with long meaningful pauses, sequences in which the dancers are alternately chased or are following people, usually traversing steep banks in stiletto heels, and dance rehearsal scenes in which nary a hint of a ballerina is seen--unless all ballerinas rehearse by doing cartwheels and interpretive dance moves while wearing black leotards and character shoes. Go figure. If you rent this thing, fast forward to the last ten minutes. Therein lies the payoff.

Before television presenters, members of parliament, glam rockers, Hollywood producers, cigar-toting disc jockeys, Australian artists and weird haired American actors, all a young person had to worry about was attacks by classic monsters. This cautionary tale warns us that if you're looking after a troupe of ballerinas, it's best not to put them up in a village where there's a vampire on the loose.

A young, non-dancer girl from the village is attacked first and brought to the huge mansion all the girls are staying in. Turns out half the village believe there's a vampire loose, whereas the other half think that's a load of crap, including the dance troupe leader's uncle – and it's his house all these scantily clad girls are lounging about. So he sits them all down and tells them the story of a curse – you know, the one you've heard about a million times.

The village girl dies and there's a creepy scene where she wakes up in the coffin shortly before being buried. Later that night the vampire turns up and offers to take her to his castle to start a new life as a bloodsucker, but this is a ruse when he stakes her instead – looks this vamp doesn't want any rivals. But never mind that – these vampire attacks have inspired the dance troupe to do a vampire themed performance, so we get a great Fame-like sudden improvised dance workout!

Of course two of these girls have boyfriends and some of them end up in the vampire's castle getting their necks sucked on and one of the boyfriends gets seduced by a female vampire. It's this kind of thing that gets in the way of one's marriage plans, so the boyfriends have to band together to take on these anaemic goth bastards.

An early Italian horror with a lot of campy atmosphere, fast paced and gorgeous looking. It's not scary but it has a beautiful cheese level. And the vampire looks like a contemporary Mickey Rourke! Some of the 'vampire melting' effects are quite good too.

Due to it being so early, there's not too much gore and no nudity, but that doesn't stop them trying! There's even a slightly implied lesbian relationship between the two main girls (and it seems to be symptom of vampirism in that it makes you bisexual). It's short too, which is good after sitting through so many gialli.

Seen 54 years after its initial release "L'amante del vampiro" (1960) was a most pleasant surprise, a good horror film that introduced vampires with fangs into the golden age of Italian "cinéma fantastique", including (and often mixing) horror, péplum, spy spoof, comic-book heroes, giallo, and even science-fiction. When discussing this film directed by Renato Polselli, most sources indicate the influence of Terence Fisher's "Dracula" (United Kingdom, 1958), but I would say that Fernando Méndez's "El vampiro" (Mexico, 1957) was also a source of inspiration: the constant irruption of the Italian vampire (Walter Brandi) into the house of the ballerinas, is evocative of the menacing presence of a Eastern European vampire in the Mexican hacienda. It is evident that the financial resources were scarce, but this little film was made with conviction, imagination and a lot of humor. I suppose the erotic elements came mostly from Polselli, who would eventually direct a few pornographic films: in this case he handled them with the typical restraint of mainstream cinema of its day, but they are by no means deprived of sensuality. First, the film includes two welcome dance sequences, one even emerging from the beautiful ballerinas' sudden inspiration. Any dance academy would love to have this kind of students, who are good-looking, suggestive, dance well and can choreograph themselves! Then there is the vampire baroness (Maria Luisa Lombardo), a lady constantly in heat, even when she is wearing medieval gowns; while the erotic undercurrent rises whenever hunk Gino Turini (as Giorgio, the choreographer) appears bare chested, in bathing suits or in bed with his lover. The most sensual moment though, is when ballerina Luisa (Hélène Remy) moves ardently in bed, waiting for the vampire to arrive. The castle used as the vampires' lair is superb, with actors obviously working in very cold conditions; the black and white cinematography is a big plus, and even the ugly vampire's evident mask points to one important plot element. But I believe that the great strength of "L'amante del vampiro" is the music by Aldo Piga, even if some find it annoying. He not only added rhythm to scenes shot at a slow pace, but he also did a great job combining suspenseful contemporary music with a portentous and dramatic score that magnifies the terror described. Renato Polselli was not the most inspired director, yes, and it shows that he handled the material just adequately. But everybody involved in this production contributed more than the usual quota of professionalism and enthusiasm, and I believe that this is what has contributed to make "L'amante del vampiro" an attractive and interesting horror work up to this day.

I saw this black-and-white Italian made vampire movie at the Cloverleaf Drive-In in Cleveland, Ohio back in the early 1960s. The theater often booked triple feature horror programs (and triple features period. I even saw "El Cid" on a triple bill there). The drive-in's location was part of its appeal. If the movie wasn't worth watching, you could stare at the neon Goodyear sign off in the distance.

I only have a vague recollection of this film as it appeared theatrically. Like some others who have commented on it, I know it primarily from a 12-minute Super 8 silent home movie edition that Ken Films distributed in its United Artists series (which was primarily dedicated to condensed versions of the classics UA picked up from Warner Bros). In that abbreviated state, it wasn't at all bad, with a climax as memorable as Christopher Lee's demise in "Horror of Dracula." Helene Remy got top billing, above the title, but I'm not even sure any of her scenes made it into the home movie version. Then again, I don't think I would recognize her anyway.

Considerably less than the sum of its parts. The English-language title is extremely misleading (the original translates as 'The Vampire's Lover'), for there are plenty of dancers but not much ballet; one of the film's highlights being a supposed 'rehearsal' with the girls cavorting athletically in matching leotards and fishnets as one reclines languidly in the foreground drawing on a cigarette, which resembles a beatnik cabaret act rather than ballet.

Characters aimlessly wander in and out of the plot as well as about the local countryside and the local abandoned castle as in an episode of 'Scooby Doo'. Angelo Baistrocchi's photogaphy - particularly the nighttime exteriors - are pleasing to the eye but far too overlit for the purposes of suspense; while Aldo Piga's score varies wildly in style and suitability from scene to scene. Helene Remy as Luisa and Tina Gloriani as Francesca are both immaculate in their high heels and fifties dresses and hairstyles; maybe too immaculate, since their blonde good looks and their clothes render them so similar it gets difficult in the later stages of the film to keep track who's doing what and to whom at critical moments.

Someone involved in the production was obviously familiar with 'Nosferatu' and 'Vampyr', since a number of images (the wolves emerging from the woods, the coach driver, even the closing shot) have been lifted from the former, and the subjectively shot funeral from the latter.