99 Women

REVIEW
Spanish-born director Jess Franco is one of cinema’s most prolific filmmakers, responsible for hundreds of features since his 1959 directorial debut (most in the exploitation arena), but one of the most fascinating aspects of his career is his ability to alternate ultra-low-budget, experimental-cum-personal genre excursions with higher-profile, comparatively (B-level) star-studded Euro-pudding international productions that enjoy substantial production resources. And subsequently Franco admirers (in some cases, “defenders” might be the more accurate term) tend to divide into two camps: those who savor the director’s more esoteric work (A Virgin Among the Living Dead, Female Vampire, Rites of Frankenstein, etc.), and those who prioritize the relative slickness and professionalism of his more luxuriously budgeted endeavors (Love Letters of a Portugese Nun, Faceless, etc.) – interestingly, Venus in Furs might remain Franco’s preeminent achievement precisely because it comfortably fits into both categories. 99 Women, Franco’s 1969 groundbreaking grindhouse women-in-prison staple, falls squarely in the latter camp. As such, it remains one of the director’s most (in)famous and widely-seen works, but it also lacks the perverse, feverish intensity of his most accomplished exploitation films – 99 Women might perhaps serve as a comparatively easy introduction to Franco’s oeuvre for novices, but it will likely prove disappointing viewing for those with a degree of familiarity with this most anarchic director’s filmography.

The plotline is wholly familiar W.I.P. fodder – innocent new inmate Maria Rohm (quite stunning here, especially considering she is usually a rather cold presence in her other roles) must battle sadistic warden Mercedes McCambridge and her superior Herbert Lom when she’s tossed into an island prison, the conditions of which are being investigated by well-meaning state investigator Maria Schell.

The story of 99 Women (penned by legendary producer Harry Alan Towers under his “Peter Welbeck” pseudonym) is strictly by-the-numbers, but the picaresque tropical locale provides substantial visual appeal, and the cast can’t be beat: Rohm and Euro-sleaze favorite Rosalba Neri shine as sexy inmates, but it’s the tyrannical duo of McCambridge and Lom that really make the film work. Too often, aging, slumming American actors sleepwalk through their paycheck-driven roles in Euro B-movies, but both McCambridge and Lom ham it up with gusto, and deliver exceptionally sadistic, convincing performances. Hardcore Franco fanatics would be better served by thoroughly depraved later women-in-prison opuses like the excellent Sadomania (also available from Blue Underground), but 99 Women remains an essential addition to the Jess Franco canon.