Bedtime with Bataille
Watching Lèvres de sang (1975)
Lips of Blood / Lèvres de sang. Dir. Jean Rollin, 1975. 87 mins.
The French, being French, and the empire builders that they are, have a word for it: Fantastique. But without going all Henry V about it, negative capability would suit our purposes just as well. I normally steer well clear of movies about (yikes!) vampires. There are exceptions: Martin (1977) — a truly great 70s downer that transcends its genre trappings and boasts not one, but two impeccably shot and choreographed extended murder scenes; The Addiction (1995) — holocaust footage, continental philosophy and the concept of “the push”, Check! Wholesale slaughter of obnoxious NYC-type yapping party guests, Check! — and Daughters of Darkness (1971), a Belgian fantastique that stresses, to my mind, the inalienable rights of the elites to dispose of the poor in any way they see fit. I was not a fan of Parasite (2019).
Lips of Blood (1975) is Rollin’s fifth vampire feature, on something of a roll after The Rape of the Vampire (1968) — not as good as it sounds — The Nude Vampire (1970) — haven’t seen it, don’t want to — The Shiver of the Vampires (1971) — the title sounds better in the French, frisson is a very acceptable word — and Requiem For A Vampire (1972) — which implies an ending, a concept I am kindly disposed to, and is a decent watch. And that was seemingly that, as the demands of exploitation cinema required somewhat tougher fare, and Rollin, branched out, or slimed in. Dug further. It might not sound like it, but Rollin is one of my favourite directors, and it’s round about now he starts to get really interesting. Of course, being French, and perfidious as a birthright, Rollin would sublimate, and then full-out relapse into toothy squalor, but in always instructive fashion. Or so it seems to me.