this week, I've seen two spanish-language horror movies from the 70s, and the reactions I had with both of them were so extreme that I felt compelled to share them with you. The films in case are "La Furia del Hombre Lobo", by Paul Naschy, and "Alucarda, la hija de las tinieblas", by J. Moctezuma.
I'd like to say that I have seen the second movie without any previous exposure to it or its making, so a part of my first-time impressions were wrong (as I'm checking a bit more of the background now).
"La Furia del Hombre Lobo" translates to "The Fury of the Wolf-Man". It is part of the series of Waldemar Daninsky films, starring Paul Naschy and written by himself, under his true name Jacinto Molina. Perhaps American fans are not aware of this man, but he crucial to European film-making / horror. I'd put him on the same level as Jess Franco for several reasons, though that might not be a compliment.
This is supposedly the fourth film in the series, but the second "Noches del Hombre-Lobo" is so far considered a lost film and the known or supposed plot is very similar to "La Furia del Hombre Lobo". The third film is "Los Monstruos del Terror" which has aliens come to earth and revive the classic monsters to eventually learn how to conquer the earth. The first film, "La Marca del Hombre Lobo", is where Waldemar Daninsky is introduced, of course.
Daninsky is a mysterious count (aren't they all? Though this one is Polish, the theme of Eastern-European nobles remains) who becomes entangled in a love triangle with a local affluent girl (the geography is always confusing in these films. There is a german-sounding castle around, so let's pretend this is somewhere in Central Europe, although it really looks and feels like Spain). To cut the story short, in the first film some gypsies find the grave of a dead wolfman, remove the silver knife that killed it and in turn make it reanimate. Of course they're killed afterwards. This wolfman terrorizes the village and the men organize a hunt for the supposed wolves. During this hunt, Daninsky saves the life of the groom of his love by attacking and killing the wolf man, but being bitten instead. The three people become friends and call two specialists in lycanthropy, who turn out to be vampires. The heroes eventually confront and kill the vampires, and Daninsky is put to rest by his lover. This first film is quite watchable, and given the usual level of B-films horror, it is not bad.
"La Furia del Hombre Lobo", however, made me cringe with its badness, let's say. This really took a big drop from the first film. Not having seen "Monstruos del Terror", I'm not sure where continuity was messed up, but in this film, Daninsky is a brilliant teacher in a medical university who does research in multiple fields. During one of his expeditions to Tibet, he is bitten by a Yeti, consequently turns into a werewolf and is the only member of the expedition to survive an avalanche (I'm not sure of this, there were parts of the film I had difficulty in understanding) and return home. He goes back to teaching quite soon after that.
This is only the exposition, so I'm not giving away any spoiler yet. Anyway, what makes me feel bad for this film is not only the story, but all the accessory part. I feel the director has not cared enough (and even Paul Naschy seems to agree with me). During the first scenes, Waldemar arrives home during a terrible storm, but when he goes to the window, he sees a magnificent sun rising over a glorious tree. You see immediately this is not going to be an easy ride. The montage is perhaps the worst thing in this film: scenes are cut from one to the next without any care for transition, especially regarding music which is cut short severely and unceremoniously always at the wrong point. Acting is bad, and voice-acting is Spanishly-bad. Forgive me for saying this, spanish actors in general (at least from this time) always seem like they're reading for the radio. They all sound the same, as if they were dubbing foreign films. If I couldn't see the image, I couldn't tell two characters of the same gender apart. All in all, the experience I have when I watch a Spanish film in Spanish is quite the same as if I were watching a soap opera or a porn-film. I can't explain it better, just that I'm never satisfied with the level of vocal performance. There's not acting, it does not sound natural at all. That detracts a bit from the film.
The technical aspects are certainly bad. But even worse are some of the horror department devices. Naschy as a werewolf is ok, but I don't like his style. I haven't seen many other werewolves: let me see, I saw Lon Chaney Jr, Oliver Reed and now Guillermo del Toro. Sticking to old films as this one, I don't have many examples to compare Naschy too, but he doesn't convince me much: he usually goes leaping at his victims, which is quite ok, but then starts slamming them as a drunk cowboy in a saloon-brawl and I think: "hey, perhaps this is what D&D designers mean by a 'Slam attack'", but still I don't buy it. Then he takes a bit at the neck and goes satisfied leaping at something or someone else. He does cause a lot of destruction, but his fury on human people seems to be very brief, very controlled and only for screen-reasons, without any real rationale. There's nothing of the uncontrolled frenzy that makes a werewolf tore a victim open and gloat in his bloodlust. There's also nothing of the cunning and intelligence of the beast.
The mysticism of the film is one of its lowest points. Since the first film, the werewolf can be recognized by a sign (La Marca") imprinted on his skin. The original 1941 Wolf-man had a star, which was ok, but for Paul Naschy this sign is a pentagon, which is not at all mysterious. I don't know, but the thing of putting such a regular polygon as a sign of monster or outcast does not convey any horror to me. Stars are irregular, concave to use the exact term. Convex polygons just do not cut it, they offer an idea of completeness, stability that is at odds with the supposed imbalance of the abnormality or monstrosity they are meant to imply. Even worse is the use that is made of this. In the initial scenes, we see in flashback that Daninsky was treated by a Tibetan monk who told him something like this: "The shape of the scar you have is still indefinite, but if it ever turns into a pentagon, this box holds the cure for the evil that will be attacking you". This is spoken in, I think, Daninsky's voice. Then, this same voice repeats for 5 (?) times the word "Pentágono" (Pentagon) as if it were the most ominous word ever spoken by human tongue. It is not, not even in context, it sounds cheap and ridiculous. Even more so when the same flashback is replayed a handful of times more later in the film, cut to the point where the 'monk' says 'Pentágono' and then only this word is repeated more and more times. It had me cringing as I went through it. I should add that we never learn what is inside the box, how it is used. The monk also warns of something if it doesn't work after 7 or so tries (if I heard it correctly) but I can not tell exactly what happens or should be done then. Anyway, later on Daninsky gives this box to another character and it is suggested (but I can not be sure) from a later line of hers that it was a scroll explaining Daninsky's lycanthropy and how 'he couldn't die'.
Then, the story doesn't hold. Character motivations are extremely flimsy at times.
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So, what does this film have? It sure is a horror movie, ok, with more than its fair share of horror cliches and antics: werewolves? check; mad scientist? check; Asylum? check; orgies? kind of; grave-robbing? check; reanimation? check; zombie werewolf? check; vampirism? not this time, but almost; lesbianism? sort of implied, at times; a female heroine already engaged who suddenly loves the afflicted lycanthrope? check (why, oh why, does this always happen?); mental control? check; old castle/habitation with an eerie-sounding name? check (even though the outer wall has battlements, it is so low a man can jump it and enter it. go figure why, some people build these things only for show, don't they?); storm? check; fake-science? double, triple, even multiple check; oriental mysticism? half-check (it attempts to, but it's sorrily done); evil guy with ulterior motives explained away with beneficent knowledge? check; combat? multiple-check.
So, it turns out to be a poor movie. It could be enjoying if you like horror, but there's so much to forgive and forget that I'd rather counsel you not to see this film. Watch something else instead. I've found "La Marca del Hombre Lobo" and "La Noche de Walpurgis", in the same series, to be enjoyable, if not perfect. At least, Naschy always likes to have a high monster-count in his films, if that's something that pleases you. I still have "El Retorno del Hombre Lobo" to watch: I've read somewhere it was the masterpiece (?!) of this series.
Now, Alucarda, that is something else entirely. I watched this film thinking it was a spanish flick, though I was a bit put off with the aztec-sounding name of the director, Juan L. Moctezuma. Indeed, the film is Mexican. I also had the bad voice-acting experience with this film, with the Spanish text sounding too false and detached, as in a dubbing. However, apparently, the film was spoken in English. That would account for that sensation. Anyway, some actors are better at this than others.
Well, Alucarda is horror with no quarter, I should say. Although I was doubtful at the start, the film was engrossing and compelling all the way through. The visuals are disturbing. The whole story is placed in a nunnery / orphanage, but there are enough monks in it to make it appear as a mixed-gender monastery, if such a thing exists. The monastery has some genuinely frightening places, with a heavy religious backdrop in some scenes, even reminiscing of post-medieval paintings with religiously macabre themes (I'm sorry that my culture in this department is so severely lacking that I can't place the references I feel here), the habits of the nuns are scary and they tend to be tinged in red in a suspicious way. A scene further up to the middle of the film makes you wonder if this red is part of the natural colour of the dress or blood that has dried and not been washed.
This film has been called extreme in some respects, for its time. It deals with a case of demonic possession, and as I already said, all its action is in the premises of a religious house, which brings the satanic theme to its maximum potency. Alucarda, the title character, is an orphan girl that lives in the monastery since birth, and who befriends a new orphan who has just arrived, Justine.
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The film is very well directed, and it keeps you to the chair. Without going into many details, Alucarda plants a seed of evil in Justine which grows and grows without restraint. Satanic powers and direct harm caused by the devil (by his intermediaries) are shown blatantly, in a way I'm not used to but which I welcome strongly. The male gypsy, although only appearing in only two scenes, is imposing and I commend him highly (I like the spanish voice-acting in this case).
As a warning, there are much nudity and gore. Even if the nudity is exploitative, it is justified in story terms. In fact, there is even a satanic ritual, a kind of initiation / black mass, that goes exactly accoring to type, ending in an orgy that is visually satisfying without being excessive. It is even somewhat elegant in how it is presented (discarding the fact that it is supposed to be evil). All in all, the film is off-putting, disturning but very rich. There is of course the dialectic between superstition and science, but it destroys it later and the viewer has to concede that these things are truly happening and that the supernatural is real. The climax of the film is worthy of note. Though there is some bad acting from the part of the nuns, it is visually impressive and strong. And in particular the final scene, where evil is finally put to rest, has a very very original device (distantly related to the ending in Hammer's Brides of Dracula). I'd call it even stunning.
This film was based on The Exorcist, supposedly. I don't recall the latter, but Alucarda seems highly interesting on itself (if you like the genre) to be watched without any need for comparison. Plus, the stories are very different, and here there is a clear focus on the battle between good and evil without the film ever taking definitive sides. There is both allure and repulsion in the evil characters; there is both piety and hardness, even coldness, in the good characters. But more than that, there is a constant air of provocation that the director instills in the viewer. It has not been said by me, but I agree, the real star of this film is behind the camera. Watch it if you like the genre.
