Vênus em Fúria

Anyone claiming that cult filmmaker Jess (Jesus) Franco was a hack, obviously has never seen his masterpiece, "Venus In Furs" aka "Paroxismus." Mind-bending, visually stunning tale of a jazz musician obsessed with the beautiful blonde woman, murdered as he watched, during an S&M session that went too far. Already haunted by her memory, he becomes lost in a hallucinatory World when her nude body washes up on shore. and the world in which he finds himself might..or might not be Hell. Very original concept at the time, an idea that has been imitated countless times since, in such films as David Lynch's "Lost Highway." The dreamlike jazz score is as sensual as the images on screen. The scenes in Istanbul, where the adventure begins and ends, are beautiful and chilling, and sexually charged images played against the backdrop of Mosques and Islamic chanting make for a bizarre and unsettling experience. Actor James Darren is perfectly cast in the main role of the trumpet player. Darren, who was an acquaintance of jazz legend Chet Baker, based his character on the horn player, imitating his mannerisms and way of speaking. Barbara McNair is wonderful as the lounge singer, who tries to save Jimmy Logan from his inescapable fate, and of course Maria Rohm inhabits her role as the 'Venus in furs,' back from hell to avenge her death. And who can forget the piercing blue eyes of Klaus Kinski, as Ahmed..the Turk with a taste for sadomasochistic sex. What a cast! "Paroxismus," with it's unique editing, camera work, framing, lighting etc is something that should be studied in film classes; it is that good. This is what cinema is all about.

Paroxismus (AKA Venus In Furs) is an absolute treat from beginning to end. The film looks beautiful and the surrealist vibe that runs throughout the film suits the subject matter perfectly. The hepcat jazz trumpeter central character played by James Darren and the truly luminous and beguiling Maria Rohm add much to the proceedings, but the soundtrack, you cats, the soundtrack! Paroxismus is a Euro horror film in which the visuals and sound match beautifully, but the musical score is fantastic. Therefore, even if the dreamy images and plot baffles and befuddles, just close your eyes and listen a truly superb and innovative score.

Thus, Paroxismus is a Jess Franco gem.

As likely to be heralded in certain circles as a preeminent figure of stylish erotic Eurohorror as he is to be dismissed as a hack-of-all-trades and purveyor of Eurotrash, often both at the same time given his gargantuan and largely uneven filmography and depending where your affections lie, Jesus Franco if nothing else at least can't be brushed aside easily. If Oasis of the Zombies gives valid claim to the second, Venus in Furs does the same with the first.

A jazz player discovers the body of a woman washed up in a beach in Istanbul. Weirdness ensues. Not really 'meaningful' weird, the kind of weird that suggests a certain insight to be gleaned from closer inspection, but 'captivating' weird, 'hallucinogenic' weird, the kind of weird where you buy the ticket and are happy to be simply swept along for the ride. The movie seems disjointed at first, haphazard, low-key voice-over narration transporting us through time and space back and forth until plot and story cease to exist in any one given level. Yet it doesn't take long for a sort of inner rhythm and flow, jazzlike and hypnotic, to emerge. Suddenly we're in a ritzy party and Klaus Kinski is peering wide-eyed into the camera. The dead woman is now alive, scantily dressed and being flogged in a dimly lit basement by Kinski and two of his friends. From Istanbul to Rio back to Istanbul, the strange woman seems to be exacting some kind of revenge while she keeps a love affair with the horn player on the side.

For all the casual languid randomness, Franco seems to know what he's doing. Not narrative speaking so much as in terms of atmosphere and overall ambiance. The camera constantly zooms back and forth, the movie pulsating with a jazz vibrato. Shots from the primary narrative (the actual story) are later repeated inside a flashback (fantasy? reverie?) making the boundaries between present and past tense blur hopelessly, turning the linear into cyclical. Something which is further compounded by the bizarre ending where I think Franco reaches for more than he can grasp and comes up mostly with straws. That combined with the little epigraph superimposed over the screen brings the movie down a notch because it reduces the heady surreal noir that precedes it into a "so it was all..." conclusion. By openly stating what we've been suspecting, that everything exists in someone's head and adheres to the fragmented laws of dreams and memory, Franco robs us of the pleasure of understanding for ourselves.

Thirty years down the line Venus in Furs is more likely to appeal to fans of Alain Robbe-Grillet and David Lynch than Eurohorror hounds, the emphasis here being on mysterious rather than grotesque.

Jazz musician Jimmy Logan finds the dead body of a beautiful girl Wanda Reed on the beach outside his home in Istanbul, a girl he recognizes from a party he was at the previous night. Jimmy is haunted by her vision and memories of how she was raped and tortured at the party and how he didn't step in to help. Two years later he is now living in Rio and finally has his musical career back on track, but he is stopped in his tracks when a woman who appears to be Wanda walks in to the club where he is playing, is it really her, can she still be alive or is it all a dream. Bizarre, trippy, love story with some Noir overtones, it has a fantastic jazzy score that creates a hypnotic mood, its beautifully filmed with a striking use of colour, touches of sadomasochism and lesbianism add even more to the mix, there's even time for a great twist or two at the end.

then I'll never watch another franco movie. I was excited to see this by the reputation and the American title (shades of Leopold von Sacher Masoch)and all I saw was fifteen minutes of good film (the first 15) and then a bunch of stock footage,nonsensical dialogue, and BS plot development. I needed more dungeon scenes or more masochism, and less stock-footage/VO mental masturbation. I was sorely disappointed. Some might say "You should see it stoned", well, I did, and that didn't improve things. Someone compared this to "Lost Highway", and to them I can only spit derisively. I'd rather watch a Dolph Lundgren movie. How that guy still has a career is more honestly surreal than this stuff.