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Review

That’s the problem with genres. When it comes to the cinema the willingness of both audiences and critics alike to group specific strains of film into genres makes it very easy to take each and every film one sees and pigeon-hole it with a specific tag. This film is horror, this one is exploitation, but that one is science fiction and etcetera. If truth be known preoccupation with this tiresome obsession we as viewers have with neatly categorizing each and every viewing experience often tends to drain much of the novelty and spontaneity from the cinema. Every so often however, there comes along a film so conceptually and thematically crazed that it simply confounds any semblance of categorization. One film that almost undeniably resembles that particular remark would have to be director Edward Dmytrky’s lunatic 1972 interpretation of Bluebeard.

Born in British Columbia but of Ukrainian ancestry, Dmytryk carved out a reputation for himself as a blossoming directorial talent during the course of the forties. Unfortunately however, the promising career of Dmytryk would be permanently derailed when the director – a lifelong dyed in the wool leftist – was caught up in the McCarthy era communist witch-hunt and was briefly jailed then blackballed from Hollywood as one of the infamous “Hollywood Ten”.

Having publicly renounced the communist cause Dmytryk – while still tainted by the scandal – had succeeded to a degree it getting his career back on track by the late sixties. In 1972 however, Dmytryk would sign his own cinematic death warrant with his bizarre Bluebeard which combined the gist of Charles Perrault’s famous fairy tale with exploitative concessions to seventies tastes, bizarre creative flourishes, strikingly kitsch set design and a much mocked, hand-wringing turn from a troubled Richard Burton.

Bluebeard stars the aforementioned Burton as the thoroughly wicked Baron Von Sepper, a highly regarded former WWI German fighter pilot and a high-ranking Nazi whose beard turned permanently blue following exposure to radiation in a WWI crash landing. We soon learn that Von Sepper is something of an unsavoury character as he orders the brutal persecution of the local Jewish population and woos then marries the attractive Greta (Schubert) only for his young bride to promptly meet her doom in an alleged hunting “accident”. Shortly after the Baron turns the focus of his steely charms onto dancing American blonde bombshell Anne (Heatherton) who responds favorably to his advances and soon becomes the Baron’s new wife.

Shortly after Anne movies into his creepy old castle, Von Sepper announces that he must leave for Vienna on urgent business before even having consummated his new marriage. He entrusts Anne with a large bunch of keys, one of which stands out from the rest as it is fashioned from pure gold. The Baron informs Anne that she may go where she pleases in the house, save from the one place which is locked with the golden key. After expressing these wishes he then departs for Vienna.

Naturally curiosity eventually gets the better of Anne and after snooping around the castle she succeeds in using the forbidden gold key to unveil a hidden walk in freezer concealed behind the Baron’s portrait. Inside the freezer Anne is horrified to discover the murdered bodies of the Baron’s previous six wives, together with that of a prostitute. Fleeing from the place in terror, Anne runs directly into the clutches of the Baron who has cut short his Viennese jolly in order to catch Anne in the act. The Baron informs Anne that as she has disobeyed his instructions and discovered his secret that he must now kill her too just as he killed his previous wives. In order to buy herself some time Anne Von Sepper in conversation as he gradually reveals his reasons for murdering each of his six previous brides. Will Anne’s ruse succeed? Or is she unavoidably destined to become the next victim in the Baron’s ongoing campaign of spousal slaughter?

The opening third of Bluebeard while stylistically offbeat and fairly meandering actually generates an effective air of off-kilter unease as Anne gradually discovers subtle hints as to her husbands true nature, his outwardly jovial demeanor scarcely disguising his true inner wickedness . Meanwhile the Baron spends his time avoiding sex whilst coercing Anne into posing for porno chic photographs as she becomes increasingly uneasy with her new life in the castle, which seems to be taking on a sinister, creaking life of its own.

Just shy of the hour mark however, Dmytryk changes the course of Bluebeard entirely and what little restraint there had been to keep the film in check up until that point seems to fly out of the window entirely never to return. After Anne discovers the corpses of her predecessors Bluebeard transforms from a linear narrative into a series of outlandish, blackly comic vignettes detailing the barmy Baron’s supposed justifications for offing each of his previous wives.

While some of these segments inevitably fall rather flat others succeed up to a point in their goal to shock and amuse. One can certainly forgive Von Sepper for slaughtering the endlessly singing Elga (Lisi) as when the Baron finally dispatches her by guillotine it at least signals an end to her inane warbling. Next we have wife two Erika (Delon) who having irritated the Baron by giving her intimate body parts pet names seeks sexual advice from a prostitute (played by a shamefully vamping Sybil Danning). When the two women turn their attentions onto one another the disgusted Baron disposes of both via the grisly use of an ivory tusk. The Baron thinks he is on to a surefire winner with white clad nun Magdalena (Welch) that is until he discovers that she is really a raving nymphomaniac who regales him constantly with tales of her many globetrotting sexual conquests. She has to go! In possibly his worst match yet the Baron finds himself saddled next with man-hating Nazi firebrand (and violent alcoholic) Brigitte (Tolo). “She came from Hitler’s city” spits Burton “and that was the only good thing about her”. When she responds to a vicious beating (in retaliation) with sexual arousal she incurs the Baron’s disgust and seals her doom. In contrast wife number five Caroline (Belli) meets everything the increasingly exasperated Baron can throw at her with total ambivalence – until he finally throws in the towel and kills her. Finally that brings us around to sixth wife Greta whose discovery of the Baron’s secret shame (which should be obvious to all by this point) results in her aforementioned hunting mishap.

Say what you will about these mini tales, but no one could possibly say that they ever sell the viewer short from an exploitation perspective. On the contrary Dmytryk positively piles on the nudity with the entire international cast of voluptuous beauties bearing their assets for the camera, the sole exception being Raquel Welch whose modicum of name value seemingly absolved her from such indignities. It has been stated in the years since that the films backers only authorized financial support for the film on the condition that Dmytryk ensured his assemblage of comely ladies shed their clothing. While at times the films gleefully bawdy and gruesome content is utilized to fine blackly comical effect at others the blend of bare flesh, graphic gore snippets and naked flagellation feels like a very forced and desperate attempt to provoke a reaction. Indeed the frequent, gratuitous nudity and bluntly violent outbursts often sit uneasily alongside the absurdist comical tone of the Baron’s disastrous couplings. In all honesty it must be said that the sparring and increasingly acerbic interplay between Barton and Heatherton, which intersperses each pernicious vignette, is often more engaging than the vignettes themselves.

While as an intended black comedy Bluebeard is rather muddled at best, as a sheer spectacle the film is a triumph. Stylistically Bluebeard makes for a visually striking delight with a garishly bright, multi-coloured interiors of the Baron’s castle fashioning a distinctive aura of offbeat kitsch, which provides a perfect matrimony with the films prevalent sense of campy narrative lunacy. When all else fails the films totally unique visual palette and resultant offbeat charm tends to carry Bluebeard through even its most questionable moments. The films unique visual flavour is also buoyed to a degree by a typically well appropriated score from the great Ennio Morricone, which while hardly amongst the famed composers best cinematic compositions is certainly amongst his most eclectic.

The performance of Richard Burton – then in the midst of a much documented struggle with alcoholism and a downturn in his career fortunes – was the subject of much ridicule from most critics at the time of the films release. Poor reaction to his performance here would hasten the decline in Burton’s fortunes and as the seventies wore on he would be reduced to star roles in box-office duds and second rate tat such as Paramount’s race hate extravaganza The Klansman (1974) and the woeful Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977). Personally however, watching Bluebeard now in retrospect I found the beleaguered Welshman to be a delight as the wicked Baron Von Trapper, his deliberately hammy and totally overwrought performance corresponding beautifully with the films garish visual decadence and absurd tone. Burton’s exaggerated and utterly hilarious expressions of sexual disgust at the moment of each sexual conquest are especially worthy of cherishing. Burton is also gifted a fine foil in the shapely form of Joey Heatherton who proves her worth as blonde eye candy with genuine thespian talent. Unfortunately the critical and commercial washout that greeted Bluebeard did not help her career and Heatherton had dropped off the acting radar by the end of the seventies which considering the often sparkling chemistry she displays here with Burton is actually a real shame.

In contrast to Heatherton, the supporting bevy of starlets assembled for the roles of the Baron’s numerous ill-fated wives make little impression, but in all fairness never really had the chance considering the fleeting few minutes of screen time each is allocated thus confirming the popular suspicion that these ladies were hired purely on the basis of their considerable physical appeal. Nonetheless continental horror and exploitation buffs will no doubt be pleased to note the presence of Italian’s Agostina Belli and the ravishing Manilu Tolo both of whom were regular faces in their nations prolific output of horror, exploitation giallo thrillers during the seventies.

Despite the critical pillorying it would encounter upon its initial release, time has actually been quite kind to Bluebeard and while the film is a deeply flawed one by anyone’s standards, its eccentric charms are now much more apparent. Considering that it blends Burton at his scene stealing hammiest with garish visuals, fairytale thematics, horror genre traits, an ongoing Nazi subplot, moribund black humour and jarringly liberal doses of commercially minded nudity and violence, it really goes without saying that Bluebeard is just about as grandiose a cinematic car crash as one is ever likely to behold. All the same whilst often erratic and both stylistically and thematically insane Bluebeard is still seldom dull even at over two hours in length. Inevitably some will obviously not warm to Dmytryk’s preoccupation with kitsch trappings and ludicrous, camp excess, but if nothing else the films defiant refusal to conform to or acknowledge any semblance of restraint at least qualifies it as a satisfying raspberry in the face of tedious cinematic conventions.

Also Try… Bluebeard (1944, Edgar G. Ulmer) / Candy (1968, Christian Marquand / Exorcist II: The Heretic / The Klansman / The Canterbury Tales (1972, Pier Paolo Pasolini).

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