The Rape of the Vampire Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		2.5
Video		4.0
Audio		3.5
Extras		2.5
Overall		3.0

The Rape of the Vampire Blu-ray Movie Review

Kino and Redemption Films resurrect Jean Rollin's debut feature.

Reviewed by Casey Broadwater May 14, 2012

Earlier this year, Kino-Lorber teamed up with the U.K.'s Redemption Films to provide a distribution platform for Redemption's sizable library of cult Euro-horror and erotica. They kicked off their partnership with the "Cinema of Jean Rollin" series, giving a new level of exposure to one of horror's most undervalued directors. Actually, "horror" is perhaps too narrow of a descriptor for Rollin's work; his films are defined by a gothic poeticism and dreamlike atmosphere that owes more to France's literary tradition of le fantastique than the bogeymen of, say, Universal's monster movies from the 1930s.

This is surprising considering he worked almost entirely within the heavily codified vampire genre--with its well-established story lines and fairly stringent mythology--but Rollin was a low-budget auteur who put his own unmistakable stamp on all of his projects. There are certain visual and thematic touchstones that show up in his filmography with more-than-coincidental frequency. Twins, for instance, who are so intertwined and codependent that they might as well be the same person. Lesbian vampires in semi-transparent gowns. Europe's pagan roots snaking into the present. Crumbling cemeteries and decrepit chateaux. Rollin did make concessions to his producers' commercial demands--like the inclusion of gratuitous nudity--but you almost always get the sense that, for better or worse, he was making the film he wanted to make.

The Queen of the Vampires

His first feature, 1968's The Rape of the Vampire, came about by way of an offer from American producer $am $elsky--yes, that's how he insisted his name appear onscreen--who wanted Rollin, then an editor, to shoot thirty minutes of additional material for Vampire, Spawn of the Devil, a forgettable French-dubbed American horror film made in 1943. The plan was to get the hour-long film to a more bankable length and exhibit it in cheapo second-run theaters, but when Selsky saw Rollin's initial footage he decided to drop Spawn entirely and simply have Rollin make his own original 90-minute movie. The result was a "Melodrama in Two Parts," one that's undeniably amateurish--Rollin himself would later admit as much--but that also shows evidence of a filmmaker with a keen eye for atmosphere.

It's a good thing Rollin's films have such a potent mood, because quite often his stories are borderline incomprehensible. Rape of the Vampire is infamously hard to follow, especially in its second half--The Vampire Queen--although considering most of the film was improvised, it's surprising that it makes as much sense as it does. In the first part, psychoanalyst Thomas (Bernard Letrou) and two colleagues travel to the French countryside to confront four sisters who believe themselves to be vampires. A modern rationalist, Thomas hypothesizes the girls have been brainwashed into delusion by the superstitious townsfolk, and to some extent he's right. Convinced they're hearing the voice of an ancient pagan statue they worship, the sisters are actually obeying orders from the lecherous "Lord of the Manor" (Doc Moyle), who's always hiding just out of sight.

The thing is, the girls are vampires, albeit unusual ones who drink bird blood and refuse to sleep in coffins. (The "rape" of the title happened two centuries prior, when one of the sisters was assaulted by Louis XV's soldiers, who neglected to cut off her head afterward, inadvertently assuring her survival.) When the local men storm the sister's castle, intent on killing everyone inside, Thomas hedges his bets and asks one of the girls to give him "the kiss of the vampire," hoping he might live through the onslaught if he's "turned." Part one culminates in a shootout on the craggy Dieppe beach that Rollin first used in his short film Les Amours Jauns, a desolate and evocative location that would show up in several of his subsequent movies.

It's not clear how the first section would've hypothetically dovetailed with Vampire, Spawn of the Devil, as The Rape of the Vampire very much feels like its own stand-alone story. Part two, shot some months later, picks up immediately on the beach with the arrival of The Vampire Queen (Jacqueline Sieger), who's carried ashore on a litter by her henchmen. The Queen originally came looking for the four sisters, but finding most of them dead, she turns her attentions toward a young doctor (Jean-Loup Philippe), forcing him to search for a cure to vampirism. There are other happenings--a "blood wedding" at Paris' Grand Guignol Theatre, a grotesque surgery room scene, a haunting funereal procession--but the plot is jumbled and poorly paced and generally confusing.

It's a shame; the film is often exquisitely shot, but it's hindered--as many of Rollin's films are--by subpar storytelling. The Rape of the Vampire is ultimately less interesting on its own than it is as a kind of primer for Rollin's entire body of work. All of his directorial staples are here for the first time--the campy, nipple-revealing costumes, the lesbian bloodsuckers, the gothic settings and macabre tone. It's almost as if he spent his entire career loosely remaking the same film with varying degrees of success. Check in tomorrow for our review of 1973's Requiem for a Vampire, a prime example of a Rollin film done well.

The Rape of the Vampire Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

In terms of narrative, The Rape of the Vampire is one of Rollin's more amateurish films, but oddly enough, its look is a lot more polished than some of his later efforts. Chalk it up to the moody black and white cinematography, which is more haunting and far less gaudy than his color films, which usually feature the kind of goofy Crayola-red blood used on so many b-horror movies from the 1970s. Black and white just seems like a better fit for Rollin's gothic aesthetic, and I wish he'd made more films this way. (You can see the cinematic influence of Georges Franju's Eyes Without a Face--stark, poetic, atmospheric--and that's definitely a good thing.) Kino's Blu-ray presentation of the film is just as impressive, with a 1080p/AVC- encoded transfer that's almost surprisingly sharp and dimensional. As usual, Kino treats the source faithfully, with no unnecessary digital noise reduction or edge enhancement, resulting in an image with a natural filmic grain structure. You will notice occasional specks and small scratches, but the print is actually in fairly decent shape. What really got me was how crisp the picture is compared to some of the subsequent Rollin films, where he evidently used grainier stock and--most likely--less expensive lenses. The level of high definition detail is wonderful, and miles beyond previous home video editions. The monochromatic grading is handled perfectly too, with deep but never crushing blacks, bright but rarely overblown whites, and a rich spectrum of grays. Quite possibly the best-looking Jean Rollin Blu-ray release thus far.

The Rape of the Vampire Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

The Rape of the Vampire features an uncompressed Linear PCM 2.0 track that often reveals evidence of the film's age and low-budget origins. There's a slight hiss that's noticeable when you listen for it, the dubbed-in dialogue can sound a bit muffled at times, and the music can be somewhat tinny and overdriven. Still, considering the movie's pedigree, none of this should be surprising. The mix is at least consistently listenable, never overly brash or incomprehensible. I do like the film's creaky score, which features lots of screeching, minor-key violin scales. The disc defaults to English subtitles--which show up in white, easy-to-read lettering--but you can also turn them off if your French skills are up to snuff.

The Rape of the Vampire Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

One of the most fully-loaded of the Rollin releases so far, The Rape of the Vampire includes some great interviews and--best of all--two of Rollin's early short films, both of which are atypical in that they're not about vampires.

• Introduction by Jean Rollin (1080p, 2:45): "It was a kind of amateur film," says Rollin, reclining on a couch with some guy inexplicably wearing a white Venetian carnival mask.
• Fragments of Pavements Under the Sand (1080p, 23:46): A new documentary directed by Daniel Gouyette that features interviews with Rollin and collaborators Jean-Denis Bonan and Jean-Pierre Bouyxou. A fine account of the film industry in France at the time when Rollin was getting his start.
• Alternate Scene (1080p, 2:08): A "cleaner" version of the operating room scene.
• Jean Rollin Interview (SD, 4:26): Recorded in 2007, Rollin discusses the influence of le fantastique and surrealism on his films and why he decided on vampires.
• Jean-Loup Philippe Interview (SD, 9:17): Philippe, who acted in many of Rollin's films, reminisces on working with the director.
• Two Rollin Short Films (1080p): Includes 1958's The Yellow Loves (10:37), a meandering illustrated poem of sorts set on Rollin's favorite beach, and 1965's The Far Country (16:24), about a couple wandering through a forlorn city at night.
• Jean Rollin Trailers (1080p): High definition trailers for all of the Rollin films Kino and Redemption have released together thus far.

The Rape of the Vampire Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

In the booklet included with the Blu-ray, Tim Lucas writes that The Rape of the Vampire is "likely to please only admirers and theorists of experimental cinema and, most particularly, those deconstructionists who have taken the time to study Rollin's films, to know him, well." That about sums it up. When exploring the work of a director, it's often helpful to start at the beginning, with his or her first film, but in the case of Jean Rollin it might make more sense to begin with Fascination or The Iron Rose or Requiem for a Vampire--later films that are a bit more scrutable and well-developed--before circling back to The Rape of the Vampire. That said, if you're ready to take it on, Kino's Blu-ray edition of the film is fantastic, featuring a gorgeous black and white transfer and a nice selection of special features.