El extraño amor de los vampiros

I have immensely enjoyed some of director Leon Klimovsky's horror films, but this one is too melodramatic to be a good horror film. It concerns a woman (Emma Cohen) falling in love with an aristocratic-type vampire and the tragedy that ensues. There is one effective scene in a cemetary, but even such scenes as this are shot too dark to really be of any merit. A missed opporitunity; it could have been much better.

I saw this film under the more appropriate title The Strange Love of the Vampires. It is mostly a Gothic love story, although it took this viewer some time to figure that out.

A small, 18th Century village has had a rash of strange deaths. The villagers believe the deaths are the work of vampires. A progressive doctor, at first, laughs at the villagers' superstitions (like staying away from an abandoned castle and driving a stake through the heart of a corpse). Just when the viewer is convinced that the doctor is the protagonist, the film's focus switches to one of his patients, the sickly Catherine (Emma Cohen). Rejected by her beloved, lonely Catherine is left in the care of servants when her parents go away. Then, one night, a count Rudolph appears asking for shelter. The two hit it off, but the count may not be human.

The Strange Love of the Vampires/Night of the Walking Dead remains a hard film to categorize. The story is very typical and more fitting for a film made a decade earlier. There is probably too much love and not enough blood for many fans of 70's horror. On the other hand, director Leon Klimovsky provides some obligatory T&A and a couple scenes reminiscent of his more explicit outings with Paul Naschy (the vampire party is the highlight). All of which might not set well with those looking for more old fashioned scares.

The Strange Love of the Vampires is not essential viewing. One watches with only mild interest. On the other hand, the film is certainly not painful to set through. The ending even surprised this viewer (although it is in keeping with what came before). Euro-horror completists with reserved expectations might like it.

In spite of it's title, this is not a zombie film, but rather, a vampire film (although the vampires do act a bit zombie-like in a few scenes). Don't let yourself be fooled by it's ridiculously low IMDb rating, for this is certainly one of the best of it's kind, and while obviously not for everyone, will certainly please fans of romanticized Gothic horror ala Antonio Margheriti's "Castle of Blood" or Coppola's "Dracula". While it's not as technically polished as either films, the final product is just as endearing and as powerful. Director Leon Klimovsky was no stranger to the genre, having directed quite a few Paul Naschy vehicles as well as the infamous "Vampire's Night Orgy". This one has same style and flair as seen in his previous works, but he takes it to a whole other level of excellence, and this might just be his best film. "Night of the Walking Dead" works because the romantic angle is treated in a mature, involving way and does not diminish the film's more horrific and exploitive impact. For the more "pretentious" viewers like myself, Klimovsky even does flirt with the idea of making an art-house film, culminating in a deliriously surreal vampire ball scene that looks like a cross between Polanski's "The Fearless Vampire Killers" and Fellini's "Juliet of the Spirits". He never really crosses the thin borderline between horror and art, but these avant-garde touches add a lot to the film's strange, bewildering atmosphere. Set in a remote 19th century village somewhere in Europe, the story follows a young aristocrat (Emma Cohen) suffering from a terminal disease, and whose sister just recently succumbed to the bloodthirsty vampires that roam the region. Soon enough, she finds herself falling in love with the leader of the vampires - Count Rudolph (Carlos Ballesteros), and willingly joins their cult of the damned as a way to escape her lonely life and forthcoming death. However, the Count is so in love with her that he simply cannot allow her initiation to become a horrible creature like himself. The film's biggest flaw, I believe, comes from the rather snail-paced first half. Don't get me wrong, I love slow-moving horrors, but this one is filled with unnecessary exposition to characters that don't have that much of an importance to the film. Thankfully, Cohen (a very underrated actress in my view) manages to carry the first half very well, and creates great sympathy and for her character. Her gradual detachment from her parents' overwhelming repression and care, in order to become a monster, can be read as a metaphor for a young girl's sexual awakening in the 19th century. Ballesteros' Count Rudolph is not quite as impressive, but he is serviceable enough. One could only wish he'd been slightly creepier, specially when you consider how truly scary-looking the other vampires were. Although plot-wise the film can be read as being no different from something out of Hammer, Klimovsky employs a totally different stylistic approach. Reminiscent of José Ramon Larraz's "Vampyres", he makes great use of the autumnal rural landscapes. Grey skies; vast, empty fields; and leaf-less tress blowing in the wind, all become characters themselves, and land a lot to the film's gloomy, saddening atmosphere. The romantic score by Máximo Barratas, on the same vein of Carlo Rustichelli's work in "The Whip and the Body", fits the brooding, lonely imagery perfectly, and most definitely deserve a CD release. Overall, this is a definite must-see for Gothic horror fans, and one that deserves a HD restoration, as well as more recognition

León Klimovsky's swan song to the vampire genre proves that even experienced practitioners can stumble when passion wanes. This Spanish gothic horror exercise feels more like a perfunctory farewell than a meaningful exploration of its titular strange love. The film's atmosphere, while appropriately moody with its 19th-century village setting, lacks the visceral punch needed to elevate standard vampire folklore into something memorable.

Cinematographer Miguel F. Mila captures the requisite shadows and candlelit interiors with competent if uninspired framing. The visual language speaks fluent gothic - crumbling stone walls, mist-shrouded landscapes, and appropriately decrepit castle chambers - yet never transcends genre conventions to create genuinely unsettling imagery. Colors remain muted throughout, lending a pallid quality that suits the subject matter but fails to inject visual dynamism into proceedings that desperately need it.

Emma Cohen delivers the film's most compelling performance as Catherine, the terminally ill aristocrat drawn to vampiric salvation. Her portrayal captures both the desperation of someone facing mortality and the dangerous allure of forbidden transformation. Cohen navigates the character's psychological journey with sufficient conviction, though the script provides limited opportunities for deeper exploration. Carlos Ballesteros as Count Rudolph von Winberg brings standard vampire gravitas to his role, complete with the expected theatrical flourishes and predatory charm, but his interpretation feels recycled from countless similar portrayals without adding fresh nuance.

The supporting cast, including Viky Lussón and Rafael Hernández, provides adequate backing without distinguishing themselves. Their performances serve the plot machinery without memorable individual moments, contributing to the film's overall sense of going through familiar motions rather than exploring new territory.

Klimovsky's direction maintains professional competence throughout, keeping the narrative moving at a reasonable pace and ensuring technical elements function properly. However, the film lacks the directorial passion that distinguished his earlier vampire efforts. The staging feels mechanical, as if following a well-worn template rather than discovering fresh angles on eternal themes of love, death, and transformation.

The production values reflect the mid-1970s Spanish horror industry's limitations. Sets appear modest but serviceable, costumes hit period-appropriate notes without exceptional detail, and special effects remain minimal. While these constraints don't necessarily doom the production, they require compensatory strengths in storytelling or performance that never quite materialize.

By the mid '70s, the appeal of the gothic vampire movie was waning. Hammer studio spiced things up by adding plenty of sex and nudity, and if Hammer was doing it you can bet your bottom dollar that the European studios were doing it as well.

Directed by León Klimovsky, Night of the Walking Dead stars stunning Emma Cohen as Catherine, a terminally ill young woman who lives in a village plagued by vampires. Catherine is romanced by Count Rudolph de Winberg, the leader of the vampires, and gives herself to him (the lucky old bloodsucker!), but he refuses to turn her into one of the undead even though this would make her immortal. When Catherine dies, Rudolph decides that he has had enough of being a vampire and turns himself to a pile of ash by standing outside as the sun comes up.

From this synopsis, you can probably tell that this is less horror and more of a romance, albeit one with lots of hot women taking their clothes off. There are some cool scenes amongst the sappy stuff -- an assault on the villagers by the vampires, a wild vampire party, and the destruction of the vamps in their tombs via spikes in the forehead -- but with the love story overshadowing the scariness, I sometimes found my mind wandering.

Not a bad movie by any means and worth a go if you're into romantic horror like Embrace of the Vampire (1995) and Interview With The Vampire (1994) -- or if you just like boobies.

5.5/10, rounded up to 6 for absolute babe Cohen.