O Vampiro e a Bailarina

The plot is so routine it plays more like a late entry in the Eurohorror period of the 1960s than like the early entry it is. Clearly, few involved in the film took any serious care with the material, even throwing in some rather herky-jerky musical numbers, far from ballet. But the photography by Angelo Baistrocchi is both crisp and moody, attractively using the weathered castle locations.

Clearly influenced by (HORROR OF) Dracula, still it's more in the Italian mode than Hammer horror. But it's weakened by mostly uninteresting characters and a lot of running about, often near a rocky stream. Still, the weird relationship between the two vampires is unusual: she's a contessa, he's her servant, but he made her a vampire--so as humans, she dominates him, while as vampires, he dominates her. This leads to an intense love-hate relationship climaxed by them turning on each other at the climax--while still loving one another.

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.

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.

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.

Here's an early entry in the Italian horror revival of the 60s, following on the heels of Freda's "I Vampiri". It fits in well with the contemporaneous Gothics "The Playgirls and the Vampire", "Slaughter of the Vampires", etc., but is more superficial and haphazardly constructed. Most horror buffs have dismissed it as a clumsy imitation of its cinematic cousins. As proved by his later, supremely bizarre contributions to the horror genre, Polselli was a hack with no interest in continuity or story structure, but he certainly could sustain a ferociously obsessional, surrealistic atmosphere, and this title can be quite hypnotic despite its poor make-up and effects and relentless lack of narrative drive.

On the other hand, if you're a fan of kitschy early-60s Euro-chic, then by all means check this one out (if you can find it -- it only seems available on hazy grey-market copies that may have been clipped of brief sights of nudity and lasciviousness). The proceedings come to a halt every so often to allow the (supposedly classical) ballet troupe of leggy, leotard-clad bambinas an opportunity to break into sultry, acrobatic jazz ballet (shades of Chicago and Cabaret), to some mind-bending cocktail lounge music. It's as if José Benazeraf checked in one afternoon as guest director on a Bava picture! Definitely a cheeky, retro-chic cross-pollination, along the lines of "The Hands of Orlac" (remake) and "Death on the Four Poster".