Showing posts with label Alexandra Bastedo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alexandra Bastedo. Show all posts

Friday, 31 May 2024

Victor Spinetti's tears... This, That and the Other (1969)

Victor and Vanessa

So, another British sex comedy and a film directed by Derek Ford who went onto a string of productions in this lucrative sub-genre; Groupie Girl (1970), The Wife Swappers (1970), Suburban Wives (1971), Commuter Husbands (1972), Keep It Up, Jack (1974) and Sex Express (1975) and more. The mind boggles at the idea of 70’s British Rail allowing an express service of any description let alone one involving these additional benefits.

 So far, so salacious, but exactly how sexy is This, That and the Other – aka A Promise of Bed in the USA – and how funny is it? Well, it’s a mixed bag… and, as usual, the laughs are often at the film’s expense. There are three stories of varying tone and only loosely linked by theme and events but, overall, it’s a fun ride if taken in context.

Dennis is menaced
 First up we find Vanda Hudson as Susan Stress who is so desperate for a role in producer Gordon Sterne’s film that she decides to seduce his innocent photographer son, played by Dennis Waterman no less. Whilst it’s hard to think of our Dennis as in anyway this innocent after all the moments we’ve shared over the years, he does his best as he nervously tries to photograph Vanda who goes to ever more outlandish lengths to shock him in a succession of increasingly provocative costumes. Full marks to Vanda here as she has to improvise madly for most of this story before ending up in the bath and then in bed with the future TV detective and Minder…

All her efforts are not wasted on the young man but there’s a delicious twist in the tale that wouldn’t work quite as well without her commitment to the role.

The second story has the most substance and an especially impressive performance from the highly versatile Victor Spinetti as George, a young man preparing for suicide until he’s interrupted by a lovely young woman called Barbara played well by Vanessa Howard who thinks his is the location of a party. Spinetti does so well to play George’s depression in ways that win our sympathy but not distress; suicide’s no laughing matter, especially in this context, and what we’re left with is a poignant tale that rises above the sauce and still makes us hope for the best outcome.

Victor hangs on

Barbara rationalises his masking tape, continental quilt and open gas fire as the theme for a party which is to be based on suicidal people and when the other guests arrive they take on the personas of various forms of suicide with Valery Leon deciding to dive in the bath – director Derek Ford not wasting his assets here. We also get the sublime Alexandra Bastedo as bored socialite Angie whose arranging her next event almost as soon as she arrives along with Michel Durant as a so-drenched-in-ennui-you-don’t-know-he’s-completely-pissed aristocrat.

All of these characters send flickers across George’s eyes merely highlighting his isolate desolation but perhaps there’s hope for him after the party’s over if only Barbara has truly noticed him…

The film can’t possibly linger on such thoughts as we enter the mostly surreal final segment in which a sex-starved taxi driver, the excellent John Bird, leaves a cinema after watching an X-rated film just like this one, only to be caught up in a psychedelic party that blows our minds. His post film reverie, and boiled egg dinner break, are interrupted by a call to take a glamorous blonde, the sublime Yutte Stensgaard, from a London night club to an ultra-mod house in the countryside. She falls asleep drunk in the back of his cab but he can’t stop looking at her and fantasising… I like the way this section pokes fun at its own audience!

Hallucinations of a Taxi Driver...

The dopey driver is hit by a sports car driven by the posh drunk from the previous episode and the former falls into a dream, as his blonde makes her way to the country house and he follows to witness the most outrageous of events. Women frolic naked in an indoor pool and appear and disappear as the swooning psych sounds of Christos Demetriou and John Kongos score illuminate events. Cleo Goldstein dances as a girl wearing only polythene hands, and our taxi driver has clearly travelled way too far south of the river…

It's a Stanley Long production with a budget of some £8,500 so well played all round for coming up with something that is more substantial than many a Brit sex-com. As The Monthly Film Bulletin wrote, it may have been "… short on comedy but rather better performed than these things usually are.” Although I don’t quite agree that “… the one barely memorable moment is provided by Miss Hudson being pursued round an apartment to the strains of the Light Cavalry Overture."

It's available on Amazon Prime and an increasingly collectable DVD!

Yutte is covered in fruit... much like the cover of the prog blues LP, Juicy Lucy (Vertigo, 1969)

 
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Sunday, 14 January 2024

Smuggling meaning… The Blood Spattered Bride (1972)


This film is deceptive and has clearly confounded a number of reviewers on horror sites and IMDB as it was intended to do to the Spanish censors at the time of release. To understand director and writer Vincente Aranda’s motives and meaning you need to consider the situation in Spain at the time, thirty-odd years after the fascists won the civil war and still some years away from the liberation that came following the death of Franco in 1975 and the restoration of democracy with the new Spanish Constitution of 1978. Liberalisation followed as did a new era of creative expression, La Movida Madrileña led by the likes of Pedro Almodóvar whose debut, Pepi, Luci, Bom (1980) reflects the spirit of the Madrid punk aesthetic of the time.

But in the early seventies, films were heavily censored and so artists like Aranda had to be careful in their critique of a society that was heavily regulated and which favoured “traditional” values and militaristic hypermasculinity. One reviewer, who I won’t quote directly, discusses this film’s feminism in terms of modern US/UK views on the “patriarchy” and “wokeness”… which is deeply a-historical and shows the dangers of the assumption that our entitled rights are guaranteed no matter what “nonsense” the youngsters favour. Make no mistake, women were second class citizens in Franco’s Spain and were expected to provide loyal family support, be mothers and barred from not only becoming judges but even testifying in trial.

Alexandra Bastedo

This film which seemingly fits into the lesbian vampire sub-genre, was made in a country in which homosexuality was illegal until 1979 with the fascists having established special prisons called "galerías de invertidos" ("galleries of deviants") for both sexes. In this film and in his earlier superb, deeply encoded masterpiece, The Exquisite Cadaver aka Las crueles (1969), Aranda covers same-sex relationships with levels of artifice which add enough element of doubt to avoid censorship. In both cases the English language versions of the films are more specific in meaning than the Spanish at least as far as I can tell from the subtitles!

Both films directly address the position of women in society and far from being an attack on the patriarchy that the modern right does not accept even exists, is a plea for basic rights and equalities that were absolutely denied.

OK, but what about the “blood spattered” bit? I hear you ask… well, there is a fair amount of blood and it is spattered throughout this film. Let me take you through it. The story if loosely based on the vampire novella Carmilla (1872) by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu that was also the inspiration for many films not least The Vampire Lovers (1970), Lust for a Vampire (1971) and Twins of Evil (1971) – the last two featuring Judy Matheson who worked with Aranda on Las crueles in which she is superb! Here, as with that film, Aranda is happy to centre the women in the narrative in ways that were atypical even in more liberal filmmaking environments.

Maribel Martín

The film begins with a young bride, Susan (Maribel Martín), still in her bridal gown, heads off on honeymoon with her, unnamed husband (Simón Andreu) simply “He” in the script to denote his everyman status or that patriarchy? Susan sees a beautiful woman (it’s the sublime Alexandra Bastedo!) wearing bright pink and watching from the shadows and shortly after has a nightmare about being sexually assaulted by a masked man in her hotel room. She tells her husband that she cannot remain at the hotel and so he takes her to his family pile in the country.

Once there Susan remarks how none of the family portraits are of women and her husband tells her, with no other explanation that they are downstairs in the basement. Once there they find a portrait of Carmilla who had apparently killed her husband on their wedding night… her face has been cut out of the painting. Susan’s wedding night passes with her husband rather energetically ripping her clothes from her body… how much events are seen from her heightened imaginative view we are unsure but that’s the director’s choice.

Susan has a vivid dream in which the woman in pink arrives to give her a long knife with an ornate handle, the woman encourages her to use it to kill her husband and then stands over his dead body to remove his manhood… there’s copious amounts of dream blood spattered everywhere. Susan awakes to find him awake and alive but the dagger is very much real and underneath her pillow.

Maribel Martín and Simón Andreu

Carol (Rosa Maria Rodriguez) the young daughter of the couple who look after the house is accused of hiding the knife and confesses even though the parents suspect she is hiding something. But there’s something about the knife and, again in a dream, the lady in pink arrives having collected the knife from Susan’s husband’s hiding place and the dream slaughter ensues. The following day Susan knows exactly where the knife is… Her husband begins to suspect that there is more to these dreams but the family doctor (Dean Selmier) reassures him that, essentially, his wife is tired and emotional and needs to rest. They both agree that Susan is "like a child" and clearly she has no part in decision-making about her own health.

Determined to really hide the dagger, the husband drives to the beach to bury it only to find a woman’s hand sticking out of the sand. He looks closer and sees the tube of a snorkel and then wipes away sand to reveal the still breathing face of a blonde woman. It’s an extraordinary moment – surrealist and unexpected – and the naked woman rises to reveal herself as Susan’s lady in pink, Mircala as she calls herself after accepting a lift back to the man’s house. Susan had been drawing this woman from memory and now, sketching Mircala she realises that they are one and the same.

Alexandra "Sandy" Bastedo uncovered on the beach

That night she leaves the marital bed to join Mircala in the woods only to return at dawn with the other woman apparently gone but with what looks like a bite mark on Susan’s neck. The young woman is not herself though and after Carol’s father (Ángel Lombarte) reveals that he had seen the two women engaging in some ritual in the woods, the Doctor follows the next night to see the same in the ruins of a church on a hill within the grounds of the estate. Next Mircala is teaching Carol’s class about the nature of human blood, and clearly is influencing the youngster as well as Susan.

From this point you’re on your own in terms of interpretation as the story heads towards a splattering conclusion that breaks down as women versus men. On the face of it the vampires must be stopped but is this what we’re really seeing as the weapons and the hunting devices are brought to bear in an attempt to keep the women in their place? Also… Mircala, hang on, is that an anagram!?

Some excellent framing from Aranda - amazingly, this was a four-week shoot!

Dusty Verdict: I watched the Mondo Macabra Blu-ray of The Blood Spattered Bride which includes a 4k transfer from a 35mm negative (hurrah!!) as well as outtakes, an alternate ending, a commentary from writers Samm Deighan and Kat Ellinger along with interviews, including one with Simón Andreu. Andreu has made many hundreds of films on TV and film and would rate this film as one of the dozen or so he is glad to have been involved in. He didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Aranda, who wanted more gore, more sex and explicitness, but perhaps he didn’t see the director’s hidden agenda? If the film translated well to the English-speaking market it would give him more revenue and also a bigger voice internationally at a time when the battle against Francosim was reaching a key stage.

Aranda’s direction makes the most of what has become an all-too-common storyline but which he uses to create mysteries and a haunting quality much as he did with Las Crueles. The actors all do well, despite Andreu’s comments, the director clearly was good with his players, and Martin, Bastedo and young Rodriguez are all very good as is he!

Highly recommended along with a study of Spanish history when the right wing really got a chance to govern as they wished. The Mondo Macabra Blu-ray is excellent and I only wish they or somebody would perform the same service with Las Crueles!!

PS Director Quentin Tarantino named a section in Kill Bill: Volume 1 (2003) after The Blood Spattered Bride. He knows


Triumph TR4 sports car, oh my yes!!