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Girl Slaves of Morgana Le Fay
A rather large series of horror cinema clichés welcomes the
viewer from the very first minutes of this film that marks the debut of
Bruno Gantillon a French director soon switched to TV.
A remote village, strange people, cars breaking down in the middle of
the night, an uninhabited house, two girls alone in a barn (...) and
one of them disappearing. A strange guy who takes the other to a big
place, inhabited by strange people.
All seasoned with a style that is very reminiscent of Jean Rollin's. An
underlying melancholy, a rather marked slowness in the dialogues and a
hand that tries to follow the movements that Rollin would do. There are
no vampires. But boobs. Lots of boobs, right from the first images. And
perhaps this is the only real reason to see this film, in addition to
cinematography which, however, always reminds of Rollin's. I’m
afraid to think about the Italian version, with the bad title of "Le
diavolesse" (here we can’t see any devils to be clear)
ultra-censored. It must have been torture.
Because after removing the boobs, as mentioned, there is very little of
interest and very little that can keep the viewer's eyes open.
The story starts from the character of Morgana, the mythological
character of the Arthurian narratives. She, who has lesbian, tastes
here, lives in a wonderful place surrounded by semi-nude vestals except
for a light layer of colourful fabric (there is something lively after
all). The poor unfortunate girls who end up there, like the two
protagonists, have a choice: to live in seclusion in this fairy world,
where they can eat without a pause, have sex for eternity, bowing to
the Fata Morgana or ... be tortured and killed, but also live an
earthly life in there. So grow old in bondage.
If there was a place for me too, I would have no doubts about what to
choose, but there is no room for males and the two for obvious
narrative reasons disagree. And if you think that this triggers
history, gives us movement, you are wrong. Everything continues to be
rather monotonous, between woods, dialogues. And boobs. Until the end.
Gantillon therefore seems to want to enter the world of cinema through
the door of the author's, doing things well, in an intellectual and
refined way.
The only thing he can do is a spell that bores us to death.