Horrible Sexy Vampire, The (1970)

A car zips along a country road. A sexy lady in a fuzzy coat cozies up to the driver, who kind of looks like Kevin Spacey, not that it matters.

“Arthur let’s stop at the first hotel we see.”

She is ready for penis. They go to a hotel. She takes off her clothes. Because one must take off clothes to get penis. Arthur takes a shower and suddenly he clutches at his neck. He chokes, sputters, and spits. Death! The lady screams! Then she chokes, sputters, and spits! Death again! The coroner finds marks on the corpses’ necks. Obviously, vampires.

There’s an old castle in Stuttgart that, according to local lore, is haunted by ghosts or even a vampire. There’s philosophical waxing about what it means to believe in vampires and their lore and the mysterious afterlife–but who cares, fucking vampires, yo! Some detectives go to the castle to investigate. There are creepy sound effects. Creaking doors. Ominous tones. There are two coffins. The one belonging to Baron Winninger is empty! Cue the strings.

Count Adolf Oblensky owns this castle, and despite being a count, he is not a vampire. I think people should’ve stopped naming their children Adolf at some point. But what do I know? People name their kids Braxlee and Attyson now. Count Adolf has impossibly white hair, pale eyes, and a pasty complexion. His lips and face are the same color. That’s weird. He thinks he sees someone in the castle—could it be Baron Winninger? No, it couldn’t be…or could it? To be fair, Adolf’s been hitting the bottle pretty hard. He likes to drink as he works on his taxidermy.

The pacing of The Horrible Sexy Vampire is on par with most European trash-horror films from the seventies. Meaning it is languid. It is slow. It is plodding. It doesn’t have enough character, violence, or plot to make it engaging. There are exactly zero twists. It even lacks atmosphere, which is a shame because this movie takes place in Stuttgart, which I imagine is a place that only has atmosphere and nothing else. Maybe a bakery. The count’s castle doesn’t even look sufficiently castle-like. It’s supposedly centuries old, but it has a half-finished basement. I have a friend whose father remodeled their house with his own two hands. But, he never finished the stairs. I mean, there are stairs, but they’re just pieces of wood–untreated, unfinished, and splintered. The stairs have been like that for over twenty years. They are never, ever going to get finished. My point is that this castle’s basement has been looking like shit for hundreds of years; it’s going to look like shit forever. Count Oblensky will never get around to it. He and my friend’s dad should hang out and not work on their houses together.

The women in this movie strip, shower, and die. In that order. I’m OK with that. But, when victims are attacked, we see them thrashing against an invisible force. In other words, we literally do not see the vampire. The ladies are just writhing and choking by themselves. I’m not OK with that. This brings up the most unforgivable aspect of this movie: there is no blood. If there is a vampire in a movie–no less a horrible, sexy one–then I expect gratuitous nudity (the best kind), outrageous violence, and a thirst-quenching amount of blood. But this vampire doesn’t suck blood. He strangles. A vampire who doesn’t suck blood is just another creepy dude in a basement.

Pretend you head to a shop called Donut Palace. You are excited because you’ve had a long week and you deserve a donut. You are not only going to eat one (chocolate, glazed), but you’re also going to take a dozen home to not share. You finally get to Donut Palace, only to discover that all they serve is celery. Just celery. No peanut butter. The Donut Palace does not have donuts and is not a palace. So, as you stand there with your thumb up your ass and donuts on your mind, you ask yourself, “Dude, I drove all the way out to the fucking Valley for this shit?” That is The Horrible Sexy Vampire.

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