Flesh For Frankenstein

S P O I L E R S!!!

I've been curious about 1973's FLESH FOR FRANKENSTEIN ever since I saw its entry in Leonard Maltin's almanac long ago.  It was listed as ANDY WARHOL'S FRANKENSTEIN, though the titular artist apparently had little to do with the film in any capacity.  It does reflect some of his shtick.  Namely a fascination with beauty, albeit in some distorted context.  Some have called this "arthouse horror",  but to me it is as campy as many a low budget throwaway.  Writer/director Paul Morrissey's film did have the benefit of a decent budget and the restoration I saw (courtesy of the good folks at Vinegar Syndrome) looked great.   So aesthetically it felt like one of the Hammer films while also playing like some grindhouse softcore.  

Needless to say, if you're a Mary Shelley purist, you'll be frustrated.   But the film does more or less deliver on its nasty promises.  The Baron von Frankenstein (Udo Kier) tirelessly seeks to create a "perfect" of race of Serbians from the loins of his stitched together (from various body parts) "perfect" male and female specimens.  If only he can concoct ones with a healthy libido.  He spends far more time in the lab than with his wife Katrin (Monique van Vooren), a nymphomaniac.  She begins to dally with Nicolas (Joe Dallesandro), a farmhand who does have a healthy libido.  Think you've figured it out?

Not quite.  Nicolas and his friend Sacha (Srdian Zelenovic), who aspires to be a monk, are attacked by the Baron and his oafish assistant Otto (Arno Juerging) one night after they leave the local brothel.  Our mad duo select the wrong guy and decapitate Sacha for their male creation.  So even though he has a new body, Sacha will follow his head, still full of repressed sexuality. 

Sound interesting? Somewhat.  Morrissey's creative direction and Luigi Kuveiller's camerawork hold one's attention, as do the frequent displays of gore.  Disembowelments, severed hands, all rather graphic and generally over the top.  FLESH FOR FRANKENSTEIN was shown for a time in 3-D and it's easy to see which shots were emphasized for this effect.  

The movie is quite perverse.  Turns out Katrin is also the Baron's sister.  Nicolas likes to place lizards on his lovers' derrieres during intercourse.  And the would-be Dr. Frankenstein (we learn he never finished med school) likes to sexually please himself though his female creation's stitched wounds.   "To know death, Otto, you have to fuck life....in the gall bladder!" 

Beware also those creepy children.

Much of the acting is hesitant and lethargic.  Dallesandro's New York accent somehow seemed  perfectly at home among the oddity.  Keir's accent is robust and his performance is certainly dedicated.  His early scenes had me busting a gut with laughter.

If you're inclined to dig for subtext, you may consider the political implications.  The Baron is clearly some sort of fascist, and some viewers feel that Morrisey himself is taking a reactionary point of view.  To me, it felt like he was lampooning such a stance.   Everyone loses in this movie, so if you think FLESH FOR FRANKENSTEIN is taking a hardline against hippie culture or whatnot, know that by the finale even the elite get their comeuppance. 

But as with so many exploitation affairs, you're better off avoiding reading too much into it all.  This is a campy freak show, albeit with some interesting examinations of iconography and the quest for physical perfection.