I realise that scary season is officially over, but it’s always a good time to recommend some weird and wonderful horror cinema. A couple of years ago, maybe around 2018, I, like so many others before me, got sick and had to sit under a duvet for about three days, watching TV while I recuperated. At that point, I had never seen a film by the French maestro of the “fantastique”, Jean Rollin, and the BFI Player just happened to have most of his saucy vampire flicks on there.
And so, in a haze of cold and flu medicine and weak lemon drink, I decided to dive into the kinky world of Rollin. The reason I’d never done so before is that Rollin had something of a negative reputation, and his films were often pegged as sleazy kitsch or tossed-off exploitation. The fact that he funded many of his “serious” art films with money accrued through directing hardcore pornography on the back of its legalisation in France also didn’t help matters.