Ah, The Other Side of the Mirror. Jess Franco’s attempt at Serious Cinema™—his moody, melancholic descent into psychological despair and surreal symbolism, except filtered through a lens smeared with coconut oil and desperation. You might go into this film expecting a gothic thriller, a twisted love story, or at the very least, a coherent narrative. … Read More ““The Other Side of the Mirror” (1973): Jess Franco’s Art-House Breakdown with a Side of Existential Shrug” »
The title promises sin. It promises secrets. It promises a nymphomaniac with a diary—presumably full of steamy confessions, scandalous liaisons, and unhinged sexual detours through 1970s Europe. What it delivers is a sad, soggy loop of softcore moaning, existential despair, and Franco’s camera leering at women like it lost its medication. Sinner: The Secret Diary … Read More ““Sinner: The Secret Diary of a Nymphomaniac” (1973): Jess Franco’s Sleazy Soap Opera with Less Plot Than a Wet Napkin” »
You know you’re in for a long night when the title promises erotic rites, but what you get is a silver-painted Frankenstein with disco pecs, a bird-woman who looks like she fell out of The Muppets After Dark, and a plot stitched together with leftover nudity and duct tape. The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein is … Read More ““The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein” (1973): Jess Franco’s Shockingly Flaccid Monster Mash of Metallic Abs and Melodrama” »
There are films that explore the dark heart of religious corruption with nuance and intelligence. And then there’s The Demons (1973), Jess Franco’s sexed-up nunsploitation cocktail—shaken, stirred, and spilled all over the shag carpet. This is not a movie. It’s a medieval fever dream directed by a man who clearly spent more time oiling his … Read More ““The Demons” (1973): Jess Franco’s Horny Inquisition Is Guilty of All Charges” »
There are vampire movies that sink their teeth into you—and then there’s Daughter of Dracula (1972), which kind of gums your arm a little, shrugs, and wanders off into the fog. Jess Franco directed this exercise in gothic sleepwalking during one of his more “ambitious” phases, meaning he was still pretending to care about narrative … Read More ““Daughter of Dracula” (1972): Jess Franco’s Bleary-Eyed Nap Through the Undead Aristocracy” »
There are bad Jess Franco films—and there are Jess Franco films that feel like you were kidnapped by a cabaret troupe, blindfolded, and force-fed sangria while someone reads erotic poetry in Esperanto. Sex Charade (1972) falls squarely into the latter. It’s not just bad. It’s an empty wine bottle of a movie, rolling around the … Read More ““Sex Charade” (1972): Jess Franco’s Flaccid Peekaboo of Softcore Ennui and Existential Boobery” »
Let’s be honest: if you board a plane called X312: Flight to Hell, you expect turbulence. You expect chaos. You expect fireballs, snakes, maybe even a guy screaming “We’re all gonna die!” What you don’t expect is 90 minutes of people mumbling in hotel lobbies, meandering through jungles like confused tourists, and pausing occasionally for … Read More ““X312: Flight to Hell” (1971): Jess Franco’s In-Flight Catastrophe with No Drinks, No Plot, and No Survivors” »
Jess Franco’s The Devil Came from Akasava is the cinematic equivalent of buying a knockoff Rolex in a dark alley, realizing it doesn’t tell time, and then discovering it’s filled with glitter, confusion, and some kind of weird erotic jazz. Released in 1971 during Franco’s “sure, I’ll direct that” phase, this film is technically a … Read More ““The Devil Came from Akasava” (1971): Jess Franco’s Espionage Dumpster Fire with Bonus Go-Go Dancers” »
Imagine being handed Christopher Lee, Herbert Lom, Klaus Kinski, and the full license to adapt Bram Stoker’s Dracula. You’ve got the money. You’ve got the talent. You’ve got the literary rights. Now imagine you’re Jess Franco—and you decide to shoot the whole thing like a PBS stage play suffering from chronic anemia. Count Dracula (1970) … Read More ““Count Dracula” (1970): Jess Franco’s Stiff-Shouldered Stake Through the Heart of Horror” »
Let’s say you’re Jess Franco. You’ve just wrapped a dozen films, half of which were probably shot on the same beach using the same three actresses and a single pair of fishnet stockings. You’re bored, possibly drunk, and someone hands you a stack of cash, a topless actress, and a dog-eared copy of the Marquis … Read More ““Eugenie… The Story of Her Journey into Perversion” (1970): Jess Franco’s Napkin Scribble of Sadean Sleaze” »