I didn’t set out to review so many Jean Rollin movies this time around, but then every single film of his that I had in my Netflix Instant queue acquired an expiration date simultaneously.

Death Becomes Her (1992), in which Robert Zemeckis (of all people) directs Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn (of all people) as a pair of nigh-indestructible zombie women…

The Demoniacs (1974), in which a couple of Belgian girls have sex with a devil in order to gain sufficient power to avenge themselves upon the pirates who raped them…

Dressed to Kill (1980), in which Brian De Palma kicks Psycho up a notch…

The G-String Horror (2012), in which a film crew shooting a documentary about a haunted strip club get more than they bargained for…

Gargoyles (1972), in which a tribe of homicidal pterodactyl-people is in some ways less troublesome than a redneck police captain…

Gor (1987), in Harry Allan Towers teams up with Golan and Globus to turn a mad philosopher’s neo-Nietzschean erotic John Carter fanfic into a run-of-the-mill 80’s barbarian movie…

Latitude Zero (1969), in which rival Captain Nemo wannabes battle for control of some schmuck scientist and his cute but largely useless daughter…

Lips of Blood (1975), in which you can’t really blame the protagonist for preferring his hot vampire girlfriend to his out-of-control mom…

The Nude Vampire (1970), in which the title character is neither nude nor a vampire…

The Rape of the Vampire (1968), which has very little to do with vampires being raped…

The Shiver of the Vampires (1971), in which the vampires don’t shiver, either– what the hell, Jean Rollin?!

and…

The Vampire Beast Craves Blood (1967), which isn’t nearly as much stupid fun as a movie about a blood-drinking were-moth ought to be.

 
 
 

El Santo rules the wasteland-- and also 1000 Misspent Hours and Counting.


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