The Mistresses of Dr. Jekyll

If you've suffered through some of the hack work Jess Franco cranked out in the last two decades, you may find it difficult to believe that he once took some pride in his craft and evinced a certain mastery of cinematic technique, as well as a modicum of discipline. "Dr Orloff's Monster" is a case in point. Despite the title, it bears no direct relation to the creepy and perverse opus, "The Awful Dr Orloff", which put the director on the map back in the early 60s. However, it shares the same doom-laden aura -- with the expected (but always riveting) kinky asides -- that so resemble that earlier picture as well as the German Edgar Wallace 'krimi' series which was reaching its peak at the same time.

The picture is rife with carefully-executed camera angles and atmospherics, something that would become anathema to Franco's slash-and-burn methods of the 80s. The best scenes are reminiscent of (dare I say) Lewton and Franju. It builds up a strong pathos for the title character, thanks to a subtle, wordless portrayal that evokes Cesar in 'Cabinet of Dr Caligari' and Christiane in 'Eyes without a Face' (such homages were a Franco specialty). There is a particularly poignant sequence in which the zombie stumbles about near his own tombstone in a bleak, wintry cemetery. No matter what depths Franco's movies plunged to, they always offered a few wonderfully oddball cabaret scenes in smoky jazz or rock bars, and this is no exception. One singer performs a wacky, rhythmic Latin ditty that must have sparked the imagination of the members of the retro band 'Les Rita Mitsouko'. (These cabaret scenes were a welcome staple of the Euro-thriller genre of the 60s, also perking up the krimi series, several of the campier works of the Italian Gothic revival, and especially the outlaw melodramas of Jose Benazeraf.)

There are already foreshadowings of the director's latter-day carelessness -- a few too many zooms, cutting from the middle of one scene to another, and a general neglect of motivation. And, of course, he'd end up doing the revenge plot to death. But overall, this one (along with the much more perverse 'Sadistic Baron von Klaus') comes highly recommended for Franco skeptics and genre fans alike. Surprisingly, this film was immediately followed by his magnum opus, the delirious 'Succubus' (aka 'Necronomicon'), which in its pseudo-sophisticated Radley-Metzger-like style is miles removed from the Gothic horror of his early work.

In THE MISTRESSES OF DR. JEKYLL (aka: DR. ORLOFF'S MONSTER), the demented title character kills, then turns his cheating wife's lover into a remote control zombie robot. He then sends his new zombot out to slaughter various ladies of the night.

Enter the Doctor's niece, who arrives for a visit. Unbeknownst to her, it's her dad that's now a reanimated murderer!

Director Jesus Franco has really made a great horror film here. It's dark and bizarre, and the method used to facilitate the killings is ingenious! There's a macabre atmosphere and many genuinely creepy moments. The finale is also quite satisfying...

1964's "Dr. Orloff's Monster" (El Secreto del Dr. Orloff or Les Maitresses du Docteur Jekyll), a Spanish-French-Austrian coproduction and sequel (the first in a lengthy series) to Jesus Franco's 1961 "The Awful Dr. Orlof," basically a continuation of the same outline, murderous undead assassin stalking pretty showgirls in various stages of undress. A similar castle setting finds Marcelo Arroita-Jauregui's evil Dr. Conrad Jekyll (no Hyde in evidence, his name changed to Fisherman in other territories) ruling his beaten down wife, who has been grieving for her lost love over the decades, in fact the doctor's own beloved brother Andros (Hugo White), now his robotic pawn drawn to each victim by a radio transmitting necklace that police prove slow to pick up on (a lost necklace was also a catalyst in the original ORLOF). Only when he tries to murder his visiting niece Melissa (Agnes Spaak) does he meet his fate at the hands of her protective father, though one wonders how Andros would recognize his now adult daughter after being, well, dead for so many years! Andros isn't as fearful as the original film's Morpho (Ricardo Valle), but he does prove more sympathetic and has the benefit of sight where his predecessor was blind. This doctor is a real cold fish, addicted to opium, lacking even the menacing qualities of Howard Vernon, who would reprise the Orloff role on many occasions into the 80s, plus a well meaning surgeon in Claude Mulot's unrelated French title "The Blood Rose." A perfunctory love interest for Melissa helps flesh out her character, Agnes Spaak the elder sister of Catherine Spaak, who would soon retire from the screen to work as a photographer. This early Franco shows that he was capable of good work with a decent budget, and without the dizzying zoom lens that would become his trademark.

One of my sci-fi/horror/fantasy reviews written 50 years ago: Directed by Jesus Franco; Produced by Marius Lesoeur, released on American television as "Dr. Orloff's Monster" by American-International TV. Screenplay by Jesus Franco; Photography by Alfonso Nieva; Edited by Angel Serrano; Music by Daniel White. Starring: Hugo Blanco, Agnes Spaak, Perla Cristal, Magda Maldonado and Pepe Rubio.

Spanish horror sequel to director Franco's "The Awful Dr. Orloff" which is even crummier than the first outing, as Orloff's human-like robot minion terrorizes pretty babes again. Featuring white nightgown action.

Although made on a shoestring budget and as a sequel to The Awfull Dr. Orloff, this is a very enjoyable flick and a fine example of early Southern European horror. It's actually better than it's predecessor.

The plot is not real important (it contains a zombie-like creature, a castle and a mad scientist). What makes this movie is the mood, the often beautiful camera-angles, the art direction and the hints of later Franco movies.

For example, there's several scenes with women performing, often in erotic scenes, with men watching - which is exactly the kind of voyeuristic cinema Franco would turn to in later years (Vampyros Lesbos, Demoniac).

There's - of course - quite some nudity, which must have been considered quite risque in 1964. And there's a small cameo for the director himself, as a pianist who seems to be blind.....

Also of interest is the use of electronic devices used to make the zombie a murderous weapon, they give a strange effect to the movie and reminded me of early 50's sci-fi B-movies.

All in all, recommended for Franco fans and b/w horrormovie fans. If you've never seen a Franco I suggest starting with Vampyros Lesbos or Female Vampire.