Rent Venus in Furs (1969)

SPOILERS follow ... - Venus in Furs review by NP

This is the slickest Jess Franco film I have seen. In fact, the difference in production values between this and something like ‘Dracula Contra Frankenstein’ is so staggering, they seem like the work of two different directors. The actors, including a wild-eyed Klaus Kinski and a shifty-looking Dennis Price, look immaculate. Only the over-used footage of the Rio carnival betrays the less shiny quality of its spliced-in origins.

James Darren plays Jimmy Logan, a jazz musician who becomes obsessed with beautiful Wanda (Maria Rohm), whom he finds dead on a beach in Istanbul (this scene opens the film, with swathes of backstory told in flashback, narrated in film noir-ish style by Darren). We are then treated to a swirling, delirious cocktail of sex and horror intrigue, often threaded through with the image of a girl in furs who looks like a mannequin – there is one lengthy scene where she appears to seduce, torture and kill Price’s Percival Kapp whilst alternating between dream and reality. It is very weird, intoxicating and even more impressive because the fantasy is played without any dialogue.

One of my favourite characters here is the least complex. Rita (Barbara McNair) makes no secret of the fact that she adores Jimmy in spite of his infatuation with Wanda. McNair’s expressions of forlorn longing and subsequent dejection when she realises she has lost her love, are powerful, and we are relieved for her when she finally musters up the sense to make a dignified exit. However, she literally has the last laugh, as it is Rita who sings out the title song over the end credits, full of life ad gusto, which is more than can be said for her ex.

For such a delirious, jazzy cocktail of a film, it is Franco’s restraint that makes it work so well. His trademark zoom-ins are here, but used sparingly, and only to enhance a mood. Filtered camera effects also abound, but only in tone with what is revealed to be going on. I enjoyed ‘Venus in Furs’ very much for its consistent storyline (the twist at the end doesn’t make much sense, alas) and atmosphere. I also very much enjoy Franco’s tatty, less acclaimed works for opposite reasons.