My dearest of friends, please, draw nearer. No, nearer still--yes, that’s it, close enough that you can hear my faint whisper, for I have a word whose mere utterance can shake the very foundations of our ignorant society: nunsploitation. That’s right, dearest readers, once again the Duke of DVD returns from up on the mount to bring you what you need! The honeyed drippings I bring you now aren’t silly rules etched upon stone tablets by a faceless and impotent god, heavens no! They are instead of a movie that may well be the paragon of a genre we hold most dear, a shining beacon which causes us to lift our palsied hands and turn our faces towards its radiant beauty, tears streaming down our faces as heretical bliss takes over.
Friends, when auteur and nunsploitational genius Jess Franco's Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun dropped through my mail slot with a resounding thud, I snatched it up with much alacrity and sprinted to the Ducal theater, clutching it to my chest possessively, like a man who had just bought the severed penis of a mass murderer from a rather unscrupulous coroner in order to dip said penis into a river upstream from his hated neighbor’s lands, thus letting the evil drift down to murder all of his enemy’s cattle, children, and crops. One does not let such a prize out of one's sight, and I didn’t intend to with the DVD copy of this movie, I assure you! I settled down in my chair to bask in the glory, but little did I know how depraved a movie I had in store.
Let us explore, shall we?
Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun starts off with young Maria (Susan Hemingway), a 15-year-old tart who lives alone with her mother and who likes to run around the woods with her boyfriend, laughing and flirting like a whore. She’s doing just that when her boyfriend manages to steal a kiss before they are surprised by the outrageously evil priest Father Vicente (William Berger). He chastises the youths for their wicked ways. Maria asks what she’s done wrong, and Father Vicente replies, “You didn’t offend me, child, but what about God?” What about God, indeed, sir! He drags young Maria back to her mother’s house and fills both of them full of such lies that Maria’s mother gives her up to a convent--one that Father Vicente just happens to hang out in. Not only does he hoodwink Maria’s mother into letting her go, but he also takes all of their savings, claiming it as a “dowry” to the convent. Mama mia!
"Yes, yes child...that's how you churn the Lord's Butter!"
Father Vicente whisks Maria away to the Serra D’Aires convent, a very castle-like edifice out in the country. Very quickly, she is interviewed by the Abbess (Ana Zanatti), who insists on everyone referring to her as “Most Eminent Priestess,” a moniker that should raise a few eyebrows. In full view of the priest, the head nun insists on doing the ol’ tried and true Virgin Finger Test™, by making Maria hike up her skirts so that the Abbess can ram a cold, twisted finger into the virginal honeypot Maria carries around with her. (Nota bene: besides being an entry requirement to most of the Vicar’s social gatherings, the Virgin Finger Test™ can also be fun at Bat Mitzvahs, retirement parties, office gatherings, and presidential inaugurations. Ask for it by name!) The Priestess notes the absence of under-garments, a state Maria says is because of how poor she and her mother are. The Priestess replies “Were you tempted because you weren’t wearing proper under linens?” Now how many times have I heard that?!
Satisfied that Maria is indeed still bearing an intact hymen--or was, anyway--the Abbess sends her off to her new room, whereupon two nuns immediately enter and recruit Maria into a devotional kissing game. Heyo! What a convent! Maria is then made to go to the confessional, which amounts to a curtained-off corner of the main church. While all of the other nuns sit in their seats, Maria recounts her sins to Father Vicente. He very quickly steers her to the lewd, and she finally admits to having a dream in which she performed fellatio upon a boy. Father V loves this form of shrift, needless to say, and begins playing tug of war with cyclops right there in the booth! His fevered moans get louder and louder as Maria talks more and more about playing the skin-flute. The rest of the nuns titter with laughter as Father Vicente finally achieves sexual release inside his confessional--something the Vicar does daily, I might add.
Maria is informed that over the next three days she can’t wear any clothing, and instead must be wrapped with thorny vines, in order to pay some sort of penance for her sins. Some nuns strip her and help wrap thorn-bush limbs around her supple breasts and hips. During this time we are also informed that a nearby castle is inhabited by the Grand Inquisitor, who no doubt employs a ruthlessly fanatical devotion to the Pope, and whose arrival I was totally unprepared for. Later that night, we learn just what kind of party they're throwing at this convent: we see the Priestess praying to Satan, and we also get an extended lesbian scene that would raise the Devil’s own putrid cock like a daisy after a big rain.
"No, Father, I've never been in a confessional with a Hole of Glory. How does it work?"
Maria’s boyfriend shows up, hoping to entice her home. I thought we’d get some scene in which he’s found out by Father Vicente and made to stroke it over a fire or something, but nah, Maria vows to stay and drive the wickedness from her soul, and the poor boy leaves empty-handed and full-bollocked. Around this time we get a positively evil scene in which the Priestess gets mostly naked and engages in a Satan-summoning ritual, which involves placing a bowl full of baby’s blood (we’re told) directly under her hoo-hoo, and she writhes in ecstasy while two nuns pinch her nipples and otherwise rub up and down her body. The spell works, for we get a tiny glimpse of one of Satan’s hands, which look just like a normal hand, except it’s covered with so much curly thick hair that perhaps Franco intended for Satan to be a Wookie.
The latest Parish fashions.
Meanwhile, Maria finally wises up to the fact that Satan appears to have cloven-hoof-hold in this particular convent. She writes her mother a desperate letter, asking to be rescued from the rampant lesbianism and overt, unapproved fuckery going on. Unfortunately, the High Priestess intercepts her letter, and reads it aloud to the lecherous Father Vicente. As punishment, Maria is stripped to her smallclothes and made to stand in a small wooden cell. Before you can say “Hello, Vicar!”, Father V saunters in and forces Maria to reenact her dream--on his cock! Now how is she supposed to say her Hail Marys around a mouthful of uncut heretic man-meat? HOW, I ask you?!
"The power of CO--uh, Christ... compels you."
Finally, the promised event is nigh! The night that Maria loses her virginity to His Infernal Majesty. The mood is set: blacked out room save for a few sputtering candles, a dozen scantily-clad nuns moaning and rubbing themselves, and above it all the High Priestess holding court. Bizarrely, the High Priestess situates herself on the central altar and positions soon-to-be-not-so-chaste Maria directly behind her, so that Maria is leaning on the High Priestess’ back. Soon, the Devil Himself shows up, played insanely well by the hilariously-yet-appropriately-named Herbert Fux. In Franco’s world, Satan is the quintessential ladies' man, clad in a red silk body-suit and sporting cape and hairy hands--only he also has a giant dong coming out of the center of his forehead! In fairness, one assumes this was supposed to be a horn, but to me it looked like a rubber phallus attached to Satan’s face, which only added to the awesome. Maybe Satan needs two dicks, as there's so much 'sploiting to be done! Indeed, when he starts rogering Maria, the High Priestess also seems to be really enjoying things. At any rate, the vile yet somehow sexy deflowering is complete.
"You're staring at my forehead junk, aren't you?"
The next day, Maria is in tizzy. Her queries about the previous night’s activities get laughed away, with the Priestess claiming Maria has dreamed it all. Did she? Who cares! Maria flees the convent, heading into the nearby town, where she finally talks to someone ostensibly in power: the Mayor, a corpulent hog of a man. Offering to help her, he takes her off in a wagon, and Maria promptly falls asleep, confident that her fat savior will take her home. Instead, he hauls her back to the convent, into the waiting grasp of Father Vicente, who assures the mayor he did the right thing.
Where canned tomatoes come from.
The Priest and Priestess waste no time in punishing Maria. They drag her to the Inquisitor (which caught me completely by surprise!) and he sets about stripping her naked and tying her to the rack. Lots of torture ensues, and I was really wondering as to why they were all going through this farce until I realized that the Inquisitor suspects nothing ill about the Priest and Priestess, and isn’t himself in on all the Satan-lovin’ that’s going on at the convent. He’s simply doing his job and wringing a confession out of a naked, nubile young teen, a hallmark of the Inquisition for decades.
"Before we begin, could you please sign this insurance waiver?"
Soon, Maria signs a confession, admitting she made the whole shitstorm up and indeed loves Satan and all his many wizards with every inch of her blackened heart. Satisfied, the Inquisitor decrees that she’s die by fire the following day. Maria is left alone to think on her ruined life, and for some reason is also left a pencil and plenty of paper. She writes a last-ditch letter, detailing all that she’s been through, and then tosses the letter out a window, hoping some errant wind will carry her missive to someone who gives a flying fuck. As luck would have it, a foppishly dressed dandy is just at that moment riding by on his palfrey! He reads the letter, and gets as stern a look on that his lead-powdered face will allow.
"Dear sir or madam, you might be the next winner of The Inquisitor's Clearing House Sweepstakes! WTF?"
The next day, Maria is hauled out before man and God to answer for her supposed crimes. Inquisition guards stand ready as Father Vicente, the High Priestess, and the Inquisitor look on. Maria is tied to a stake and the fire is lit under her, but what’s this?! A giant gay riding a horse arrives with a few men of his own, demanding that Maria be set free. As it turns out, he’s the crowned Prince of Portugal! What fucking luck Maria has! (Well, except for being buggered by the Devil...) Of course, the Inquisitor immediately believes the Prince, and orders Maria cut down and the Priest and Priestess arrested! They in turn flee, running through the castle only to finally be cornered by Inquisition troops inside the church’s inner sanctum. Free-frame, the end.
Friends, the title of this movie conjures all sorts of images. “What Love Letters?!” you bleat, “I was hoping for some sexy letters detailing the cunnilingus rituals of the notoriously horny nuns of Portugal!” And you would be right to be vexed so, as I too was expecting something similiar. Instead, the love letters in question appear only to be missives to Maria’s mother asking for help, which of course never got mailed, let alone delivered, and the other being a letter tossed out a window only to become the genesis for a Deus Ex Fancypants.
In my aristocratic opinion, any normal nobleman would have read such a letter and immediately handed it to the Inquisitor as further proof that Maria fornicated with Satan. Oh sure, the rest of the convent needs be put to the stake as well, I mean, they were in on it, and the High Priestess regularly has sexual congress with the Devil too, so of course they all have to go.Then again, perhaps I can see the Prince’s end of things. Maria was forced, was she not? Despite having her cooch pumped full of midnight black semen, perhaps she does deserve leniency. The altruistic Prince was simply doing the chivalrous thing. Of course, he can never, ever, dip his wick into Maria’s befouled nethers--one thing you do NOT want is Satan's Sloppy Seconds--but I’m sure she’d make a fine dishwasher in the royal kitchens.
Once again, folks, Jesus Franco brings us the good stuff. His use of color, framing, and light are unparalleled in my mind. He just gets things right, all the fucking time. And the sets! I’ve probably said this before, but apparently all of Europe is rife with awesome castles, churches, and convents, just sitting there waiting to be used for movie-making purposes. Or defiled by hot Euro-babe fleshmongers, as the case may be. I loved this movie from start to finish, and firmly enshrine it into the Nunsploitation Hall of Awesome. Stop what you’re doing right now, and go get a copy for yourself. You will not regret it, my dearest friends. When has the Duke ever steered you wrong? (Except for that commercial I shot for Dandy Dan’s Coat-Hanger Home Abortion Kit. I was drunk ok? I lost a bet!)
"Yes, I'll help, but I insist on being paid in donuts."
"Wow...I DO have a nice rack!"
Butt on Satan's Claw
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun (1977), Or How To Get Fux'ed By Satan
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Les Demons (1972), Or The Inquisition Gets All The Chicks
The moon hung low in the sky like a leper’s testicle: bloated and swollen, with a hint of green. Steel clouds occasionally obscured its pockmarked surface, casting shadows across the cobbles before me. I had arrived in Cairo the previous morning, choosing to spend my first 36 hours in the company of a cadre of acrobatic dwarfs, visiting the city as part of a world tour or some such. Their skills on the trapeze are only eclipsed by their skills in the bedroom, I assure you.
My slippered feet whisked me forward. A near invisible circle of Sudanese assassins shadowed me, allowing me to walk without fear from the cut-purses and murderers that the Khan el-Khalili is so famous for. I had come to this world famous market in search of a rare treasure that had so far eluded my grasp. Dark whispers in the deepest corners of the world had lead me in this direction, but it wasn’t until a recent scrying ceremony, performed by a Důr shaman using elk bones thrust into an earthen berm and then heated to bursting, that I knew exactly where I would find the object I had coveted for so long.
Using a wooden fetish provided by the shaman, I made my way through the twists and turns of the bazaar. A strangled cry from the darkened aisle to my right informed me that one of my guards had happened upon a road agent. As per my instructions, his heart and liver would be removed and incinerated in a glass brazier fueled by plump Sago worms, thus ensuring that the would-be murderer’s entire lineage will die in horrible pain and agony.
As the fetish in my hand grew colder and colder, I knew I was at last arriving at my destination. A final turn, and I knew I was there indeed. Before me stood a wooden stall, lashed together using camel sinew and intestines. It looked as if it would collapse at any moment. A bewildering sign reading “Worm Rape” in hieroglyphs hung out front. The proprietor stood huddled in the shadows, wearing filthy rags. He reeked of dung smoke and as he bobbed his head and smiled, I could smell his breath from 10 paces. The smell was a combination of curry and another smell that made me think that this man had not too recently been making out with a hobo’s ass.
His collection of wares was meager, I paid them no mind. He immediately sensed my reason for being there, as he turned and brought up a brass box from behind his counter. The box, fashioned in the Dolei tribesman way, was entirely covered in hammered brass which was then punctured with an awl in a deliberate fashion. The wrong person opening this box would very quickly find themselves without hands and tongue. He opened the box and offered its contents to me. I dropped a bag of gold coins on the counter and snatched up the object, moments before the entire structure collapsed onto the screaming merchant due to the weight of the gold. In my shaking hands I finally beheld…
Jess Franco’s Les Demons, made in 1972, gives us an epic tale of masturbatory nuns and the randy Inquisition. If you aren’t completely engorged within the first 15 minutes, have your pulse checked. Our movie opens with the Inquisition performing their godly duties, namely the exposing of a witch. And expose they do! Breasts are quickly bared as boiling water is poured on the old witch being put to the question. The water doesn’t evaporate, and she looks haggard enough, and possibly has a wart somewhere on her body, so a witch she is!
The first place to look for witch-like markings is on the breasts, naturally.
In short order, a pyre is erected and the witch is burned alive. Stupidly they don’t shove a rag into her mouth, and she uses what little time she has before going to meet her master to curse everyone present. She claims her daughters will avenge her, by opening their thighs no doubt, which Franco wastes no time in getting to. The noble Lady DeWinter is in attendance, along with the head Inquisitor Jeffries and his brother-in-arms Renfield; all fall under the curse. Lady DeWinter, fearing reprisal from said daughters, talks Jeffries into scouring the countryside for these saucy wenches.
Their search brings them to a convent, where we find the Mother Superior at odds with her feelings. Seems she happened upon the flaming hot Sister Kathleen, who was engaged in naked rubbing with herself, which caused the normally unflappable Mother Superior to immediately soak 3 sets of habits. Not only this, but Kathleen also has trouble paying attention during Bible class. Her penchant for self exploration coupled with her day dreaming surely means, yep, you guessed it... she’s a witch!
Mother Superior soaks another habit.
Kathleen and her chaste Sister Margaret are brought before Lady DeWinter, who performs the tried and true test of whether a nun is a bride of Christ or a bride of Satan: The Broken Hymen Exam. The Lady performs it herself, and a couple of finger jabs later we have our witch! Kathleen is whisked away by the Inquisitor Renfield, who is in service to Lady DeWinter in more ways than one.
The tried and true Witch Detection Vag-Finger Test.
Kathleen is tied to an x-shaped wooden flogging apparatus and is being flogged by various Inquisition members, who obviously have nothing against women. Renfield watches, growing more and more horny by the second. Lady DeWinter comes down to spy on the proceedings, wearing a zang-worthy see-through nightgown. Renfield runs into her as he’s leaving, and they both decide to work off the built-up randy-ness by playing a little game of “I’m A Saucy Witch, Please Rodger Me Mr. Inquisition Guy”.
In a surprisingly gentle turn for an Inquisitor, Renfield falls in love with Kathleen (helped in no small way both by Kathleen’s free-range bush and her seemingly endless ability to take whip lashes). He orders two of the guards to set her free.
Meanwhile, it seems that their mother’s curse covers more than just Kathleen, for that very night as Margaret is making ready for evening prayers, Satan Himself pops into the room, dressed as an British fop, as is his wont. He drills Margaret all night long, breaking her over like a shotgun and riding bareback. Filled with lust, and Satan’s Own Seed™, Margaret now knows the joys of being penetrated by a god and isn’t going to settle for less in the future.
"Prepare to be teabagged by His Infernal Majesty."
Upon finding Kathleen missing, the Lady DeWinter has both guards killed. (They fall silently to their deaths, revealing nothing of Renfield’s instructions. Where does one buy awesome help like this, someone tell me please?!) The Lady is pissed, ordering an immediate search for Kathleen. We flash back to Margaret at the convent. She tells the Mother Superior “I enjoy fondling my body!” and we nod in encouragement. She undresses an awe-struck Mother Superior and begins sexing her up. Allowing it to go on way longer than she should, Mother Superior jumps up and flees, running out onto a balcony, whereupon she throws herself over the side, committing suicide because of her lesbonic tendencies. For shame!
Meanwhile, Lady DeWinter learns of Renfield’s treason, and gives him one last chance: find Kathleen. Indeed he does, but instead of returning Kathleen to the Lady and Jeffries’ clutches, he professes his love and asks Kathleen to run away to Holland with him. Before any of that can happen, however, they are both captured. Finally, Lord Inquisitor Jeffries' true depravity is revealed when he makes a deal with Kathleen: become his sex slave and he’ll go easy on Renfield.
"No one expects.... me."
Margaret somehow infiltrates the DeWinter household, posing as a well-to-do princesses. The Lady DeWinter finally gives in to her lesbian feelings, and reveals that she’s been training hard by showing us some Olympic-level muff diving. As everyone knows, vaginas are like fingerprints, and very quickly the Lady realizes Margaret’s true identity. Alas, it is too late, for the curse takes effect and the beautiful Lady DeWinter is reduced to a mere skeleton, albeit one with blond hair.
"Tastes like chicken, with a hint of nun."
Margaret frees Renfield and Kathleen, and they flee. They aren’t gone long before Margaret kisses Renfield, killing him! Kathleen realizes that Margaret really is a witch, and has her arrested. Margaret is burned at the stake, but asks Lord Jeffries for one final wish: a kiss from his Lordship. Jeffries can’t resist anything with breasts (including fellow Inquisitors at the annual bacchanal), so he grants it. One kiss later and Jeffries is a skeleton. The curse is complete!
"Icky, get this thing off me!
I must say, I absolutely loved this gem of a movie. It had everything. Satan sexing a nun doggy-style, naked nuns being put to the question, lesbian Mother Superiors who can’t control their urges, and copious shots of French bush. Speaking of things French, the extended print I have of this movie isn’t completely dubbed, which made for some amusing scenes. Most of the time the voiceover work was fine, but every once in a while, particularly when someone in the film was angry, the dubbing would disappear and the movie would lapse back into its native French. I realize it was due to this being the uncut version, but it made for some hilarity throughout.
It cannot be overstated how fantastic the sets were in this film, either. French castle architecture was in full effect, with grand vistas around every corner, long stairways, curved arches, and just an overall sense of oppulance. The cinematography was spot on, and I often felt that scenes were framed perfectly, and/or decorated with a critical eye. The music, however, was often out of place I felt. Not that the music was bad, necessarily, but it just often didn’t fit the mood. A long, slow funeral dirge would have been more appropriate, perhaps coupled with carnival music for the sex scenes.
In the end, this movie passes all the requirements for a good nunsploitation movie. There’s plenty of ‘sploitin’ and lots of Inquisition, which I totally didn’t expect. Jess Franco knows his audience, that’s for sure, and Les Demons proves this beyond a shadow of a doubt. If I could fault it for anything, I would have to say more sex scenes would have been welcome. In fact, a hour long shot of the two sister nuns masturbating, following by a hour long three-way with Lady DeWinter, and we’d have had ourselves an epic movie. As it stands, I give Les Demons 2.5 Thumbs Up.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Behind Convent Walls (1977), Part 3 of 3: My Only Friend, The End
So here it is at last, parishioners and subjects: the third and final installment of the Mad Mad Mad Mad Movies review of Walerian Borowczyk's infamous nunsploitation effort, Behind Convent Walls and the first-ever Duke/Vicar tag-team! When we last left our transcription, the Duke and the Vicar were getting ever more inebriated, waxing poetic on the mysteries of nunly seductiveness, the wonders of Avery Beer, and the beefy slab of Awesome that is Paul Naschy.
Today in this ultimate post in the series, the Vicar suggests a new beatitude, the Duke confesses to the molestation of an inanimate object, the Damnable Duo engage in yet more entirely inappropriate Naschy love, and we deliver our final verdict on the film itself.
The contents of today's post are NOT suitable for young readers, women who are pregnant or may become pregnant, or people with heart conditions or well-developed senses of morality. For everyone else, though, it should be a blast. ;)
And if you've enjoyed this double-team (and who doesn't enjoy a nice double-team, eh?), let us know in the comments--I mean seriously, would it kill ya? If the fan reaction is positive and/or outraged enough, who knows? It may inspire more reviews such as this one in the future.
But enough of my yakkin'! Whattaya say? LET'S BOOGIE!
Click Here to continue reading Part III
V: Well, Duke, as to the larger meaning of Behind Convent Walls, I think it’s about the way that human sexuality is restricted in a lot of ways that are unhealthy to everyone. Because in the end, sex is a gift from God.
D: Amen. He gave you these parts, you might as well use them.
V: And the more sex you have, the greater the grace! In fact Veronica says at one point, “And if from this hour on I commit any mortal sin, it shall be only to get punished even more vehemently!” Because the more you get punished, the more grace in the forgiveness. And I think that’s something that the Church at some point must have edited out of the Sermon on the Mount: Blessed are the Fuckers.
D: For they shall inherit something or other.
V: Yes.
D: Probably Chlamydia.
V: God Bless ‘em. But the idea, which I think is an idea Rasputin had, was the more you sin, the more grace is required to absolve you, and the more grace, the more good Jesus is doing.
D: It’s a net gain.
V: Exactly. So really, sex in the convent has more to do with redemption than damnation, I believe.
[TheBar Wench returneth]
D: One more round, trollop! I want a Pinkus Wheat. I can’t leave without a pinkus in me.
V: Now you’re doing it on purpose.
[Bar Wench leaveth, requesteth a shift change]
V: So to sum up: naked nuns—always good. I have to say in Walerian’s favor that pretty much all the flesh he gives us is Grade-A.
D: Oh, absolutely. Like I was saying before, if you were to go to a real convent I guarantee you it’d be full of wrinkled old crones that I wouldn’t touch with *your* dick.
V: ...
I would.
D: Be that as it may. There is one scene I wanted to talk about that I thought was really awesome. I didn’t gather what it was they were using, but when they were in the library they kept using some kind of cloth screen they could flip up sideways—was that a loom or something?
V: They were doing some kind of embroidery. Veronica was the one doing that.
D: Anyway, it was really cool because they could flip it up, and then just go fuck underneath!
The sisters sew a few more notches onto the Communal Fuck Shield.
D: YES it was!
V: Roderigo deflowered the HELL out of that body.
D: There were no petals left.
V: And she was seeing—she was getting that mystical experience that you get from really good sex—
D: I mean, when you’re getting rogered righteously by a rascal named Roderigo, you’re gonna see God. Reminds me of my most recent trip to Miami.
V: Duke, your experiences in these matters—I’ve spent too long in the ecclesiastical cloister.
D: You really need to get out more.
V: I hear about your adventures when you return, and it makes me green with envy. And also a little nausea.
D: Such is love.
V: After the frolic in the chapel, there’s this whole frenetic release of pent-up sexual energy in montage form—I mean, we’ve got the Meat Man fucking the nun over the crate of live chickens, we’ve got more nude yoga and bicycle exercises, we’ve got a couple of nuns on their beds next to each other, grasping one another. And then we’ve got the violinist—and I think really there’s not enough sex and violins on TV.
D: [Groans] Oh, you had to go there.
V: I did. And then we actually have a scene of the violin nun “fiddling” with herself, as it were, actually masturbating with her instrument!
Who says it's better to play with a group?
D: And what true music lover hasn’t done that?
V: Indeed, I’m regularly intimate with my lute.
D: I fucked a cello.
V: I tell you what you need—you haven’t had it till you’ve had a piccolo.
D: I’ll have to remember that the next time My Lady of Laserdisc visits. She’ll be all “Do you want the Big Bertha this time?” And I’ll say, “No—I’m going for the PICCOLO.”
V: “Blow on it! Play the scales! PLAY THE GODDAMN SCALES!”
D: [sings] “Mary had a little spooge, she had it on her cheek—and everywhere that Mary wiped…she couldn’t get it off her cheek.”
V: This has to be the foulest conversation I’ve ever had in my life.
D: You could do that so many ways: [sings] “Mary had a little spooge, it shot across her chest…”
V: “And even though it stained her dress, she swore it was the best!”
D: “And everywhere she licked her tongue, she said it tasted best.”
V: You’re a poet. Anyway, I don’t even know where we were…oh yeah, that second frolic where she’s fucking the violin, the girl who has had her dildo confiscated is MADLY whittling another dildo.
D: I thought that was awesome. “Take *my* dildo, will you? I’ve got PLENTY of these!”
V: “I’ll sweep out the chapel, just GIVE ME THE BROOM.”
D: Oh, man.
V: So what do you think Walerian’s beef was with the whole convent idea was? Did he go to Catholic school, maybe?
D: He obviously had some hang-up with the Vatican.
V: I know when I was in school, and I had a particularly stringent teacher, it was always kind of fun to imagine her bent over the Wedge of Sorrows. Which probably actually happened.
D: I think it’s really just the general principle: who *wouldn’t* want to fuck a nun?
V: Not me! I do not *not* want to fuck a nun.
D: Exactly…I think. So maybe Walerian simply *wants* to fuck a nun.
V: I think we may have unearthed the secret of the whole nunsploitation genre.
You'd Do It
D: Where would you rank it? Would you put it above Images in a Convent?
V: I don’t know, I’d have to go back and rewatch that one. I liked it a lot.
D: I’d say it’s definitely below Alucarda. But then again, how can you reach that high? Baths of blood, naked backbends…
V: Oh, my god, when she rises up out of the blood-filled coffin? Holy shit. I’m getting turgid right now just thinking of it.
D: Tumescence: Achieved!
You're Soaking In It
V: As long as we’re going off-topic let’s talk about Alucarda, because I know it’s one of your favorites.
D: It just doesn’t get any better. And we’re not alone in this point of view—Kitty of Killer Kittens from Beyond the Grave and others have said as much.
V: You’ve got Dirty Thieving Gypsies—
D: Is there any other kind?
V: There’s not, as Paul Naschy has taught us.
D: Every gypsy is thieving and dirty.
V: If only they would leave the silver dagger where it is—WHY do they always go straight for the silver dagger?
D: That little glint of silver, and it always ends with Paul doing LEAP ATTACKS that defy all gravity.
V: Curse of the Devil—the greatest leap attack ever. He’s on the balcony, he looks down and he sees the BLIND OLD WOMAN just standing there, and he thinks, “I’ve GOT to fucking GO for this!”
D: He thinks in his head, “This is it! This is the LEAP ATTACK that I’ve been waiting for my whole life! Never mind that it’s a blind old defenseless woman!”
V: And he does a SOMERSAULT off the balcony, onto the woman, and nails the landing! It just doesn’t get better than that.
D: Cinematic brilliance.
V: You haven’t seen Naschy’s Exorcismo yet, have you?
D: No, I haven’t.
V: That’s a good one. A lack of nuns in that one, but Naschy playing the priest doing the exorcism is worth the price of admission.
D: He already has the greatest lines ever—like “I’ll see you bitches in chains!” Jesus Christ, I thought I was going to explode! Literally the best 2 seconds of film ever.
V: Naschy has got to be—
D: He’s the Sex God of Cinema.
Dream a Little Dream for Me
V: And he’s got such confidence in himself.
D: Even when he’s playing a hunchback.
V: Dude, he gets LAID as a hunchback!
D: Exactly! What fucking hunchback in cinema HISTORY has ever gotten laid? NONE! Except for Paul Naschy.
V: From the first time I saw Vengeance of the Zombies…I was basically gay for Naschy.
D: Let me just say, coming into this meeting, I absolutely KNEW it was going to turn into a Naschy love-fest. We can’t get together and have beers without Paul Naschy coming up.
V: And apparently—I have this from good sources—Naschy transcends sexuality, really. Women love him, men love him.
D: Like I told you before—if Paul molested me in a dark alley, I wouldn’t report it.
V: In fact you’d slip your phone number in his pocket.
D: Exactly.
V: In Vengeance of the Zombies of course he plays the Hindu guru, he plays the burnt brother, and he plays Satan.
D: “I’m his Infernal Majesty!” Is that what he says?
V: No, that’s in Frankenstein’s Bloody Terror.
D: I get my Naschys blended together.
V: “Haven’t you guessed? I’m his Infernal Majesty!” FUCK YEAH you are, Naschy!
D: Like I said, as he walks across the room, you can hear the panties drop. He comes in, and it’s moist—it’s like Niagara Falls.
V: All the guys want to be Naschy, all the women want to have Naschy—
D: All the MEN want to have Naschy.
V: I don’t think I could maintain my heterosexuality around him—in fact, I know for certain I couldn’t.
D: There’s a couple of “Get out of jail free” cards with regards to your heterosexuality that every man gets to burn in his lifetime, and Naschy would be one of them.
V: So Behind Convent Walls—3 thumbs up.
D: We can agree that Alucarda is the pinnacle, but I think Behind Convent Walls is either second or third behind it. From a pure nunsploitational point of view.
V: We talked about the church cover-up a little bit, the Jack Palance guy and the Inquistion…[belch] …We’re going to have to shut this off because I’m too fuckin’ drunk.
D: Same here.
V: But while I’ve got you here--Horror Rises from the Tomb, how about that one?
D: Gah!
V: Horror Rises from my PANTS, more like!
D: With alarming frequency! One thing I love about his movies just in general are the titles. I mean, where else is Horror gonna rise from? It’s gonna come from the fucking TOMB.
V: Another director we haven’t talked about who’s one of our favorites is Jean Rollin.
D: Rollin, yes.
V: Who in Requiem for a Vampire has the girls in there, they start out dressed in clown outfits. And at some point they stop in an abandoned barn somewhere and change out of their clown outfits, into their SCHOOLGIRL outfits.
D: Exactly, because what *else* would they wear?
The look is Casual, but They Mean Business
D: A GENIUS!
V: A *FUCKING* genius! In Requiem and in Shiver [of the Vampires] he’s got the scene with the blonde girl, whose name I can’t remember right now, but she’s in several of his movies , and her partner on this fur-covered bed.
D: Yeah, and the whole set-up to that is fantastic as well. It’s like “Oh, here’s this abandoned castle, let’s go check it out…Oh, here’s a fur bed—let’s have SEX on it! Let’s get all LESBONIC on this shit,” for no fucking reason!
V: It’s at a point where the truth of the visual overwhelms the truth of the narration. You don’t need a coherent narrative thread when you’ve got two hot schoolgirls lezzing it up on a fur-covered bed.
D: It needs no explanation.
V: It’s just one of those images that sticks in your head and will not go away. Rollin has done more for lesbian vampires than any other person in the history of the world, and he is owed a debt of gratitude for that…He’s like Naschy—you either get him or you don’t. If you watch VotZ and you hate it, you’re never, NEVER going to get Naschy. But if you watch it and enjoy it, there’s really nothing better. It’s the same with Rollin—if you watch Shiver of the Vampires and think “Oh, this is boring, there’s nothing happening, they never even talk until 40 mins into it.”
D: “I don’t like these teenage lesbians, I just don’t get it…”
V: Right, you’re never, ever going to enjoy Rollin. And I feel sorry for you, I do.
D: Because YOU’RE DEAD INSIDE.
V: Indeed.
V: In closing—BCW, awesome.
D: Three thumbs up—not as good as Alucarda, but then nothing is as good as Alucarda. Still a must-watch for any fan of the subgenre.
V: Definitely so. Well, it’s been a pleasure talking with you about violated nuns and Paul Naschy today, Duke.
D: As if we ever talk about anything else!
V: So from the Slaughtered Lamb, I’m the Vicar of VHS for the Duke of DVD, saying good night, and get thee to a nunnery!
"Don't say you're sorry to me...say it to Him!"
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Behind Convent Walls (1977), Part 2 of 3: Into the Lower Depths
Previously on MMMMMovies:
Yesterday the Duke and I began our meticulous discussion of Walerian Borowczyk's infamous nunsploitation effort, Behind Convent Walls. (Click here to read Part I.) When we left our excellencies, we had just finished discussing a scene in which a near-unconscious Sister Clara is taken by the bare-bottomed cad Roderigo, in a long, lingering love (?) scene. Today we pick up where we left off in the transcription of the raw audio, with the Duke and the Vicar deeper in their cups and more free with their glee.
Today--the Capenter Nun's prize-winning project, a consideration of what makes nuns so darned sexy, and some completely tangential yet entirely appropriate Naschy love.
Warning: the even remotely religiously reverent should stop reading now and go to the 700 Club website or something. We'll all be happier.
Really. I'm not kidding.
Okay. You were warned!
PART TWO BEGINS HERE!
Religious Ecstasy
D: Yes, yes.
V: What happens is, the Meat Man is outside, and he’s chopping wood—IYKWIM—and a piece of the kindling flies up, because he’s such a ramrod strong guy he could put his cock through a wall—
D: Everything is a metaphor in this movie.
V: Everything is innuendo.
D: There’s nothing left unturned; every scene has a purpose.
V: So he is chopping his log, as it were, and a piece of his wood flies up through the window, IYKWIM.
D: AITID!
V: And one of the nuns grabs the LONG, HARD piece of wood—
D: And thinks, “Oh my God! This could TOTALLY be a phallus!”
V: She gets a piece of glass to cut with, and then goes back to her room and whittles herself a dildo.
D: And this isn’t any normal dildo—we’re talking about a cucumber-esque, 3-inches in diameter wooden phallus. But the CAPPER, as it were, is a perfect rendition of the face of Christ on the base of the dildo!
"It's not what it looks like..."
D: I can just imagine the props guy for this movie. “Now what we need is a dildo.” “All right, I can carve a wooden dildo. I can knock one of those off in half an hour.” “But what we need on the base of it is, THIS!” And they hold up a picture of Jesus!
V: Our Lord and Savior.
D: Yes. I can imagine this guy back at his wood shop, carving Jesus into the base of a dildo, thinking, “Yep—it’s Hell for me!”
V: Especially an Italian guy!
D: Exactly! “There’s no escaping this—I might as well not even confess, because I’m just going straight to Hell!”
V: There’s no penance, for this.
D: “There’s no amount of Hail Marys or Our Fathers that could POSSIBLY make a difference now.”
V: Let’s go ahead and talk about the scene—because I know you want to—where the Christ Dildo gets put to use.
D: Oh, my god—not only do we get explicit penetration, but we get BLOOD. Which, I was like, “Holy fuck!”
V: Literally!
D: Not only are they showing this thing going into this nun, but there’s BLOOD on the thing…
V: She throws the thing into a basin of water, I believe, and there’s these clouds of blood rising…
Cleanliness is next to Godliness
[The Bar Wench returneth, a shocked look on her face]
BW: Something else?
D: You know, for some reason I really feel like some chili cheese fries.
BW: Um …okay. [she leaveth, in haste]
V: We did get a very explicit scene there, and it just went ON and ON. Not only was she using the Christ Cock in such a blasphemous and AWESOME way, but she was…it wasn’t enough for her to feel it—
D: Oh no no no! She had to see it, going into her! Through the ingenious use of a hand mirror, she watched in various positions. What killed me was, she watched for a while lying on her back, you know, and then, “Well, you know, I wanna get on my knees,” so she turns over, tries to look in the mirror, but she can’t really see what’s going on.
V: And that’s not gonna work.
D: So she keeps maneuvering around, trying to get the best view…of, basically, Christ fucking her. Which you’d WANT TO SEE, right?
V: I mean, you’ve GOTTA see that!
D: I mean, Christ is carved on the base for a reason! You want to know that it is in fact Jesus fucking you. And let’s be frank here--who doesn’t want to be fucked by Jesus?
V: I know *I* do.
D: Exactly! Sign me up! [laughs]
V: It’s a gift from God, really.
D: Just think what would take hold, from His seed spilled into your rectum. What unholy thing would spring forth!
V: [long pause] I…I just really don’t know where to go from there, man. You’ve rendered me speechless, and probably damned by association.
D: It’s a talent I have, and a curse.
V: Moving on... So later the Mother Superior comes in, and she discovers the Christ Cock—
D: And she wants to know what’s going on.
V: Yeah, “What *is* this thing?” Because she’s never seen anything like it, I mean, she’s never—
D: No, she wouldn’t have!
V: She’s never put anything in her cooch, her entire life.
D: Her cooter is dry as a bone.
V: So she asks the young nun, “What is this for? What were you doing right before I came in here?” And the killer for me is that the nun completely shows her! She’s like, “Well, okay, I was doing THIS! I was fucking myself with Jesus!”
D: “I think I got a splinter! But it was worth it!”
V: [laughs himself to damnation, takes another sip of his beer] God damn. The Avery Reverend is kicking my ass.
D: You can see why “feared by Satan” is on the label.
V: Talking of which, I was surprised that Satan didn’t show up in this movie.
D: Yeah, because usually there’s at least some kind of imagery, if nothing else.
V: Right. For instance in Malabimba…
D: THE MALICIOUS WHORE?
Ask for it by name
D: Driven by what looked like Keith Richards. In fact, it may have been!
V: Keith Richards is actually dead, you know. It’s just that the drugs haven’t worked their way through his system yet. If he ever cleans up, he’s just going to disintegrate, like in the Poe story, "The Case of Msr. Waldemar"…
D: Right.
V: Or, not Waldemar, I’m thinking of Daninsky. Naschy—we can’t go through a session like this without Naschy coming up.
D: No—it’s been almost 30 minutes, without a Naschy reference. I think that’s a record.
V: I don’t know whether Naschy ever made a nunsploitation movie.
D: No, but he SHOULD have. Oh my god…
V: He’s still alive. There’s still time. He could direct one, *and* he could play Satan.
D: Agh…
V: For our readers, the Duke just made the “O” face.
D: I’d rather him play Satan, and it could be directed by Coffin Joe. Of course, that would be a world-ender.
V: Indeed—“starring Paul Naschy, directed by Jose Mojica Marins”…I mean, the Apocalypse would happen, right there. But it would be totally worth it.
D: I would watch it, and then kill myself.
V: Well, you would have to. Or maybe you couldn’t, because your eyes would be bleeding…
D: My brain would turn to mush, I’d let out a massive roar as I orgasmed into my robes, then I would expire.
V: It’s really a shame that Naschy and Mojica have not gotten together.
D: Yeah, it really is. Because that would be the perfect storm of awesome.
"The Horror! The Horror!"
V: I mean, I really—we’re getting afield of the topic, but I think we should record this for posterity—I really think that Naschy…you know I love Naschy. I mean, you know I would totally go gay for Naschy.
D: Oh yeah. Who wouldn’t?
V: Who wouldn’t, exactly. But I think that, as a director—Naschy, he’s got the childlike joy, he’s got the monsters, I love Paul Naschy. But I really think that Mojica is a better filmmaker.
D: Agreed. Naschy doesn’t have the depth of depravity that’s required to make the most truly unholy of films.
V: So if he were an actor in a movie written and directed by Jose Mojica Marins, then the world would have to end.
D: Exactly.
V: In my dream world, which is a much better world than the world we live in, that pairing would happen. Well, I guess we should get back to Behind Convent Walls…
D: Yes.
V: Now, there is a difference—we were talking about the Devil not showing up in this movie. There is a difference between nunsploitation movies in which—
D: I’m sorry, I have to pause here—I notice in the Vicar’s notes, he’s got in all-caps: “SWORD CANE!” [Laughs] That’s awesome.
V: Yes! The Mother Superior with the sword cane.
D: It’s so inexplicably awesome.
V: She’s stabbing through mattresses trying to find pornographic drawings…
D: It’s obviously the perfect device for a Mother Superior to have, but it’s the first time I’ve actually seen it put on film.
V: Now the Mother Superior meets a rather ignominious end, as she is poisoned with an overdose of opium from the drug-addled nun they have in there. They put opium in her tea, and for some reason it’s fatal.
D: It’s just a hot shot of opium.
V: And when she dies, it occasions one of the great scenes in the movie, because the nuns just completely FLIP OUT!
D: With absolutely no oversight.
[The Bar Wench returneth yet again]
BW: You guys doin’ all right?
D: Damn and blast your eyes, woman! Can’t you see we’re conversing here?
V: No, wait, my friend—I’d like to order a Xingu Lager.
BW: [pauseth] All right. [leaveth]
D: I apologize, but really, this insubordination among the help is inexcusable. [tents fingers, arches eyebrow] She must be punished.
V: Something tells me you were thinking of appropriate punishments well before her first transgression.
D: Some people are born needing punishment.
V: I think she arrived at her need sometime after puberty.
D: Let’s hope so, at any rate.
V: But moving on—when the Mother Superior’s death is announced in the convent, in a wild frenzy the nuns just dash out into the hallway, running naked up and down the corridors—as you do.
D: Except for the wimples! They always wear the wimples.
V: Now, we haven’t discussed why it is that nuns are so sexy. And I know that you, as a connoisseur of the nunsploitation genre, would have some thoughts on this subject.
D: Hmm. [strokes chin thoughtfully] What is it? The innocence? The defilement of the good? The thought that these nuns are cloistered away, obviously indulging in these kinds of things behind closed doors? It has a certain power over the imagination.
Lingerie, 1700s Style
[The Bar Wench returneth—setteth down the drinks, leaveth most hurriedly]
V: [looks after her suspiciously] You don’t think she’s spying, do you? I mean, for THEM?
D: The Inquisitors? They wouldn’t dare! Not after the rogering I gave the Grand Inq last time. There’s a reason they call him “Tuck-a-mata” now.
V: Anyway—you’ve got Veronica, who’s the sorority girl type here, she goes kind of crazy at the end and starts believing she’s got the stigmata because she’s hurt her hands on a crown of thorns made of roses, which I think is a brilliant image. There’s a lot of stuff with the roses and the thorns, with Veronica especially. She gets blood on her finger early on from a thorn during the Frolic in the Chapel, and she sucks the blood from her finger VERY suggestively.
D: And awesomely.
V: After she finds out that her aristocratic relatives have gone to America and she has no power because they’re away, she goes CRAZY. She starts feeling up a statue of the Virgin Mary, for instance.
D: Also awesome.
Beautimous.
D: That’s another thing I wanted to touch upon, because obviously this guy Walerian had a bone to pick with the Catholic church.
V: IYKWIM! It seems to be something with the Italians especially, which is no surprise. I mean, they’ve got the Vatican City right there in the middle of Rome.
D: So there’s nothing more taboo than banging a nun. PURE SHOCK CINEMA in Italy would obviously have to include the defilement of the Holy Roman Church.
V: Now at the very end, as in many of these movies, we have THE INQUISITION coming in.
D: Which no one expects.
V: I was *completely* caught off guard by that. The guy who comes in, though, the Bishop, he looks a lot like Jack Palance to me.
D: He does!
"I crap bigger than you!"
D: Just like Vegas.
V: Exactly.
D: You know, I just wonder in the real world how much convent lesbianry the Vatican has had to cover up.
V: All of it, I’d imagine. But it would be an interesting anthropological study.
D: It would be. Because you know it’s going on. It *has* to go on.
V: Well, yeah. Perhaps…I don’t know—how much of our perception is affected by these movies, or how much do the movies reflect reality?
D: Yeah. I’m sure if we went over to Italy, and dug up some remote convent, it would be full of old crones.
V: Indeed. The whole “real-life lesbian” story is generally not nearly as alluring as it’s been portrayed on film.
D: I mean, that may go over in some circles, but it’s not *my* “Images in the Convent.”
V: Oh, there’s another great one, Images in a Convent. You can read that one on Mad Mad Mad Mad Movies. [belch] The readers should know that the Duke and I have been partaking in *very* high alcohol beer for quite a while now. I actually have a beer standing here I haven’t even touched.
D: I have some Reverend squeezin’s to get rid of.
V: Oooer! But we need to return to our favorite character, The Meat Man. Because he meets a rather ignominious fate as well.
D: Yes, his demise is much celebrated.
V: When the Mother Superior ends up dead, unfortunately for our Meat Man he was inside the convent, banging one of the nuns over a crate full of chickens.
D: Which is an image *everyone* needs to see!
V: So he’s trying to escape the convent while everybody is trying to figure out who killed the Mother Superior, and of course *he* gets blamed, unjustly. He’s chased down by the villagers, and I believe he’s killed at that point, or if not he’s at least beaten very severely. And really all he wanted was to get his meat into the convent.
D: He just wanted to work his joint.
V: Put a hole through the wall. Bang a few nuns. And who among us hasn’t had similar thoughts?
Feeling Dirty Yet?
Click here for Part III, the FINAL CHAPTER!
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