La déesse des sables

Three years after their reasonably entertaining version of H. Rider Haggard's classic adventure 'She', Hammer Studios produced a sequel, 'The Vengeance of She'. Lacking the star power of the original (Ursula Andress, Peter Cushing and Bernard Cribbens are noticeable by their absence), the film is a dreary retread of events from the earlier movie, albeit with the roles reversed: this time around, it is the immortal Killikrates (John Richardson) who is pining for his long-dead love Ayeesha.

Convincing Killikrates that his soul-mate has finally been reborn in the form of a stunning European blonde named Carol (Olinka Berova), power-hungry occultist Men-Hari (Derek Godfrey) strikes a deal with the lovelorn leader: if he can successfully lure Carol to the lost African city of Kuma (using his powerful black magic), then he must be granted permission to pass through the sacred blue flame that would bring him immortality (and give him a pop at taking over the world!).

Compelled to travel to Africa by the voices in her head, the confused Carol is joined on her journey by Philip (Edward Judd), a concerned psychiatrist who is determined to ensure the beautiful young woman's safety.

On arriving at Kuma, and discovering the real reasons behind Carol's mysterious calling, Philip sets out to stop the poor girl from being brainwashed into believing she is Ayeesha, and prevent Men-hari from achieving his nefarious goal.

'The Vengeance of She' starts promisingly enough, with the sex-kittenish, mini-skirted Berova (think along the lines of Bardot, and you won't be far wrong) making quite an impression as she walks through the French countryside (accompanied by a haunting theme song), but it soon descends into a messy mish-mash of boring mystical mumbo-jumbo, lacklustre adventure, and unconvincing melodrama.

Director Cliff Owen wisely makes the most of Berova's awesome physical attributes to try and distract his audience, having her slip into clingy white robes that give viewers a tantalising glimpse of her marvellous milky puddings (please note: my workmate Phil wanted me to use that phrase in one of my comments), but even with endless gratuitous lingering shots of her semi-clad form, the film still winds up as something of a snooze-fest.

Despite the title She Who Must Be Obeyed spends much more time receiving it than dishing it out in the unusual Hammer production which unlike most of their exotic melodramas has a contemporary setting and left the relatively cosy surroundings in the woodlands around Bray for the more exotic setting of Almeria in Andalusia, where troubled Scandinavian Olinka Berova - usually incognito in big hair and a very small skirt - disrupts a gathering of eurotrash on board a luxury yacht.

Scripted by Peter O'Donnell of Modesty Blaise fame it benefits from attractive photography by location specialist Wolfgang Suschitzky; while Hammer shows its once customary enterprising choice of composer in its mournful saxophone solo by Tubby Hughes.

A young drop dead gorgeous blond woman named Carol(played by Olinka Berova-real name Olga Schoberová) is drawn to the lost city of Kuma and King Killikrates believing herself to be the reincarnation of the long dead queen goddess of Kuma--Ayesha(she who must be obeyed).

This is hardly a great film epic and doesn't compare favorably with SHE(1965)--the film which this one is meant as a sequel too. But aside from all of that I did find this film to be an entertaining and enjoyable ride. It managed to hold my interest even though some of it is quite simple, cheesy and silly. Nonetheless I did enjoy it.

Now if you approach it expecting a film at the same level as SHE(1965), then you will be disappointed. This film lacks the star power and depth of story that SHE(1965) had. Here we have a number of relatively unknown actors although John Richardson does return in his role.

I was let down by Hammer Films' version of SHE (1965), so I wasn't particularly looking forward to its even less regarded sequel (concocted by Peter O'Donnell, who had earlier scripted the Joseph Losey camp classic MODESTY BLAISE [1966]!). Still, given that the film begins in a modern-day setting, I have to say that I found it mildly intriguing at first (following an unintentionally funny opening scene in which leading lady Olinka Berova is nearly raped by a loutish trucker who ends up trampled by his own vehicle!); however, once the scene shifts to the mythical city of Kuma, the film grinds to a halt - and, being one of Hammer's longest efforts at 101 minutes, this does it no favors at all! Though Mario Nascimbene is best-known for his scores of epic films and was probably assigned to this one for just that reason, the lounge music (including a title tune which is not half bad) he composed for the modern early scenes is actually the most effective part of his soundtrack!

The cast is, again, worth discussing: Berova, who's involved in some very mild nudity throughout, is undeniably gorgeous and yet rather petite to act as a stand-in for the statuesque Ursula Andress (trivia note - reportedly, she was deported from the U.K. on suspicions of espionage!); John Richardson, repeating his role from the original film but who has turned villainous in the interim, gives a wooden performance; rugged Edward Judd always makes for a compelling lead in this type of film (I especially loved the way he put-down an exotic dance number secretly organized for his entertainment while a prisoner in Kuma!); Colin Blakely and Jill Melford as a wealthy vacationing couple (on whose yacht a distraught Berova finds herself) make a fine impression, but they unfortunately exit the proceedings very early on; Noel Willman is virtually unrecognizable as a wizened learned man of Kuma; Andre' Morell, appearing in a different role from the one he played in the original, is an embarrassment as a sort of shaman spouting mumbo-jumbo.

As was the case with THE VIKING QUEEN (1967), there's some confusion with respect to the culture and the geography depicted in the film: the city of Kuma is supposed to be situated somewhere in North Africa, yet the natives - whom Judd meets during his journey to locate the kidnapped Berova - speak in Arabic. Similarly, both Morell and the high priests of Kuma are seen to be well-versed in the occult arts: I can't recall if this was as prominent a feature in the original Hammer film but, somehow, it all feels incongruous to the material!

*POSSIBLE SPOILER*

A beautiful young Scandanavian girl called Carol (Olinka Berova) is lured to the city of Kuma by the immortal Killikrates (John Richardson) and Men-Hari (Derek Godfrey) who convinces Killikrates that she is the reincarnation of his lost love, Queen Ayesha, who died years ago. Killikrates intends to give Carol the secret of immortality so that he can live with her forever and restore her power over the city. Meanwhile, he has also promised Men-Hari the secret for bringing him back his old lover.

The basic premise provides a fairly adequate sequel to Hammer's successful adaptation of H. Rider Haggard's 'She' (1965), which was something of a curates egg in itself (see separate review). The main problem here is that the Peter O' Donnell script is unconvincing in that one ludicrous situation hardly runs smoothly into another. There is also some unbelievably inept dialogue like when the heroes are chasing after a desert peasant who is on horseback in a Land Rover but they still have difficulty keeping up with him. I bet the British Motor Corporation would have been horrified because that wouldn't have been good publicity for their versatile off road vehicles! With the exception of Edward Judd's performance as the English doctor who is in love with Carol, a good cast is working well below it's capabilities, even though it includes Andre Morell who was superb as Dr Watson in Hammer's 'The Hound Of The Baskervilles' (1959). The film is made watchable by the direction of Cliff Owen who displays his skill at narrative pacing (his work partly redeemed the otherwise unfunny Morecombe & Wise vehicle 'That Riviera Touch'). In summary this film failed to repeat the success of it's predecessor.