Thursday, October 30, 2014

Full Moon of the Virgins (1973)

A good rule of thumb for these movies is that the cooler the title, the more sucky the film itself is likely to be.  That's certainly true of Full Moon of the Virgins, which is also called The Devil's Wedding Night, clearly a standout title.  But it turns out that the devil's wedding is, like all weddings, fucking excruciatingly boring.  And if, like me, you are tempted by the title, this review should set you straight.

Besides getting rooked by the title, I was also fooled by the early scenes, which seemed to promise a great crossover.  A young occult enthusiast plans to travel to the castle of Dracula to locate the legendary Ring of the Nibelungen.  And he's taking bling consecrated to Pazuzu as protection!  That's like three icons of the fantastic getting married.  But then the movie slumps into its glacial pacing and we get what would ordinarily be filler shots: people talking at a table, a guy riding a horse across miles of nothing.  But these scenes are what this movie is all about!

You might see Rosalba Neri as the castle countess and start to hope.  Don't.  Because most of her scenes involve talking at a table.  There is some mid-movie sex, including aristocratic lesbianism, and I'll never knock naked Rosalba Neri, but she can't save this mess. 

The titular full moon signals that Neri will use the Ring (the absurd thing below) to entice a whole five virgins to her castle for a ritual that involves reincarnation, a wedding, transformation into shitty bats, all the usual fare.  Let me be clear: this movie is boring.  I will have to choose more wisely for tomorrow's entry if October is to be saved.


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