Les cauchemars naissent la nuit

Dreary erotic thriller from Jess Franco, with Soledad Miranda wasted in a tiny role as the girlfriend of a jewel thief waiting for his share of a robbery cut. Main story has to do with a psychotic stripper under the hypnotic influence of the woman in charge of the jewel heist who uses the stripper to kill off the rest of the gang. Film is intriguingly told, with a nice bit of poetic voice-over narration by the protagonist, but visually the film is completely uninteresting, as are the two main characters, despite their usually appearing naked. Miranda's performance and appearance is the sole jewel in a film wherein even the attempted erotic sequences are boring. DVD's only other appeal is a neat new interview with Franco about this film and about Miranda.

Nightmares Come At Night (1970)

** 1/2 (out of 4)

A stripper named Anna (Diana Lorys) starts having nightmares that she's involved in some kind of murder but soon she realizes that these might not be nightmares but instead reality. This is Jess Franco's "lost" film, which was just discovered after nearly thirty years and while it's not one of his best, it does offer some nice touches. Lorys is quite good in the role as is Franco regular Paul Muller. The main key to Franco is his poetic eroticism, which comes off here as well as a nice jazz score by Daniel White. Soledad Miranda has a small but thankless role. As usual Franco fills the screen with beautiful, naked women as well as lesbian sex.

Although the packaging for Nightmares Come At Night promotes Soledad Miranda as its star, it is Diana Lorys who takes centre stage as Anna de Istria, a stripper who is seduced by Cynthia Robins (Colette Giacobine), a mysterious blonde who frequents her show. After being lured to Cynthia's home, Anna suffers a series of nightmares in which she sees herself committing murder, but despite help from her doctor, Paul Lucas (Paul Muller), she gradually begins to lose all grip on reality.

Recently rediscovered and never before released: so says the blurb on my DVD box for this erotic horror from prolific director Jess Franco. It's a statement that begs the question 'why did some idiot have to go and find the bloody thing?' because Nightmares Come At Night could have lain undiscovered for an eternity, and I couldn't have cared less: it's Franco at his most illogical, incomprehensible, and frustrating.

The director takes a rather promising premise, packs it with quality naked Euro totty from start to finish, yet still somehow manages to produce a finished product that has the ability to make one's eyelids feel as though they have lead weights sewn into them, and as usual, his directorial style can be described charitably as 'unique', although I prefer the adjective 'crap' (this guy even shoves manic zooms into his opening credits!!!). Franco's story is extremely weak, and is merely a lame excuse to get his leading ladies to take their clothes off (although he can't even get this right: he has Anna partake in the most boring strip show to ever be captured on film).

My version of this film was badly dubbed, something for which I suppose I should be grateful: I laughed a few times at the terrible dub track, and shudder to think how stupefyingly dull the film might have been without these unintentional moments of light relief. In fact, the highlight of the film for me was when the doctor uttered these words to Anna: 'you are a naughty little girl who, with a twitch of her magic stick, can transform her into a pink little pig or a stout and ugly black toad'. Whether this is an accurate translation I don't know (and what the hell it means is anyone's guess), but at least it made me chuckle! About the only other element worthy of note is the score, which lends a suitably grubby vibe and wouldn't be out of place playing in any sleazy 70s euro nightclub.

There are those who have described this film as 'dreamlike'; my guess is that these viewers actually fell asleep whilst watching and dreamt of something far more interesting without realising.

I paid twenty-five pence for this and still feel ripped off. I only bought it because my kids had already chosen three films and you get four for a pound in Cash Generators (certain branches only). I was also curious to see what the fuss is about Soledad Miranda, only to spend most of the running time wondering why the main lady prancing about and mumbling looked nothing like the girl on the cover.

Turns out Jess Franco has pulled a Godfrey Ho on us and spliced two films together, one of which contains Soledad (and her arse) hanging around an attic somewhere talking crap while the other concerns a psychotic stripper who keeps dreaming of killing people while having a relationship with a naughty lady in a big mansion. She also spends most of the film naked, as does most of the people here.

In the hands of a good director (or even a good bad director, like Bruno Mattei) the story of a psychotic stripper who may or may not be killing people while hunting for underwear would make for a hilarious and gory experience, but in the nicotine stained hands of Franco, every scene is drawn out beyond endurance, the whole thing is narrated by the lady in a slightly reverbed voice for extra crapness, and the nudity is probably more likely to bring those Cheese and Onion flavour Aldi crisps back up your throat. One woman's boob looked like a huge celeriac with an unfurled condom sitting on top of it and another looked like she'd been hit between the legs with a bag of soot. And since this is 1970's Europe, everyone looks like they stink.

Yet another winner from Franco then! Love the fact that during her strip scene, the lady narrates that her boss told her to make it seem like it went on forever and to be a slow as possible. Consider your job done, missus!

I've just received and watched the R1 DVD of NIGHTMARES COME AT NIGHT (1970). I'm not quite sure what to make of the film on the basis of this one viewing: most of Franco's usual ingredients were there, to be sure – the accent on eroticism, of course, but also his customary virtues in the form of a bizarre and eclectic score and an effortlessly haunting, dream-like atmosphere. Special mention must also go to the stylish credit sequence, which was quite a nice – and unexpected – touch.

However, I did feel that something was missing here: perhaps because it was all so hastily put together, the film seemed to be going nowhere most of the time. Maybe it also had something to do with the incongruity of the two female leads: on this and other Forums, I've read a lot of praise for Diana Lorys' performance but, personally, she didn't impress me too much – though I wouldn't call her acting bad, and she can certainly handle herself well in a nude scene – and seemed only to alter between playing agitated (especially in her scenes with Paul Muller, where she must have asked him if she was going crazy a thousand times!) and being in a daze. As for Colette Jack, to me, she didn't manage to put across convincingly either the spell her character is supposed to have over Lorys or the intelligence necessary to organize a jewel heist, let alone the elaborate way in which her accomplices are dispatched (her final confrontation with Muller clearly suggests she was the 'brains' of the outfit)!

On the other hand, I was pleased by the contribution of both Muller (one of his few really meaty roles for Franco) and Jack Taylor (his one scene in the film – a very Godardian moment, by the way – is its highlight). To get to the jewel heist subplot, which many feel is out of place, one must remember that without it the film would have no plot whatsoever: since the whole ruse of hypnotizing Lorys is actually to get rid of Taylor (assuming he too is an accomplice, as this is never explained), Soledad Miranda and Andre' Montcall! Still, I would disagree that Miranda is wasted here: with only a few gestures and lines of dialogue in a couple of brief scenes, she manages nonetheless to create a character and, with the aid of her indelible sensuousness, leave quite an impression – I certainly wouldn't want the film to be without her!

Regarding the DVD itself, I would like to point out that I too experienced a momentary glitch during the layer-change. Knowing of Media Blasters' notorious reputation through online Forums (this is the only disc I own by them), I don't think I'll bother sending for a replacement as I doubt a repressing has been made at all. What's more, having recently experienced disappointment with the replacements I got from Flicker Alley (JUDEX [1916-17]) and Mondo Macabro (MILL OF THE STONE WOMEN [1960]) – where this same glitch was still present on the extra copies I received from both labels – I'm a bit wary of the prospect, to say the least!

As for the DVD transfer, the full-frame print used was rather soft (though this may have been intentional) and displayed occasional damage but it was certainly acceptable, especially when considering the extreme rarity of this item. On the other hand the French-language track, with its literate English subtitles, was very satisfactory when compared to the lifeless newly-dubbed version, clips of which were included in the Franco interview. The latter, then, is one of the most entertaining discussions I've seen featuring the Spanish director; his accent sometimes does get in the way but his recollections of Soledad were certainly articulately put, as well as obviously heartfelt, and the interview never wore out its welcome. The other extras were more basic stuff, though the photo gallery (sections of which are also featured in the interview) was quite a nice addition. In the long run, I would consider the film second-tier Franco: it's as if he was biding his time here waiting, as it were, for the full flowering of Soledad Miranda in order to embark on the next phase of his debauched career