FLESH FOR FRANKENSTEIN (1973)

Like a Luchino Visconti movie on ‘super crack’ (see FRANKENHOOKER), Paul Morrissey’s film – beamed in from the outer fringes of Andy Warhol’s universe – is so full of thick European accents, the perilously thin ice between ’laboratory’ and ‘lavatory’ becomes a running gag. Throughout, Udo Keir (Baron Frankenstein) and his assistant Otto (Arno Jürging) deliver their deliciously camp, exposition heavy dialogue at full volume, shouting repeatedly about the creation of a master race and the pursuit of the perfect Serbian nose for their “male zombie”.

Into this hot mess wonders Brooklyn adoptee and Warhol superstud Joe Dallesandro as Nicholas, a lusty stableboy whose monkish mate Sascha (Srdjan Zelenovic) may just be the “type of man who will have sex with anything” Frankenstein is looking for (he certainly has the nose for it). True to mythos, the Baron has been too preoccupied with his experiments, neglecting the needs of his sister / wife / mother of his children, the Baroness (Monique van Vooren). She in turn finds solace in Nicholas’ arms (well, actually his armPITS, her maschalagnia amplified with some juicily over-dubbed slurping…) and giving audiences more opportunities to admire Dallesandro’s FLESH.

The Frankensteins’ creepy euro horror kids will give you nightmares, and the ziplock bodies of the eventual monster and his mate get put to a variety of uses… Whilst it can drag its saddle-stitched heels at times, Paul Morrissey’s film is justifiably infamous for two things. The film was shot and occasionally projected in 3D resulting in extreme gore effects dangling and spurting into the middle of the auditorium. And, one line of dialogue that truly says it all:

“To know death, Otto, you have to fuck life… in the gall bladder!”

For once, this is a film that fully delivers on its promises, which will probably dictate whether or not FLESH FOR FRANKENSTEIN is for you… Personally, I love it and hope it makes a future edition of our Queer Horror Nights.