Jess Franco’s KILLER BARBYS – The Blu Review

Review by Roger Carpenter

I have to admit I didn’t have many positive expectations for this later-in-life Jess Franco flick.  I’m a Franco fan, but not a Franco apologist.  I really enjoy a good number of his films but recognize he’s churned out some real clunkers, especially the period immediately after 1987’s Faceless.  The reputation of Killer Barbys was less than stellar with even hard-core Franco fans generally dismissing the film.  So it was that I received a screener from Kino Lorber and popped the Blu-ray in.  I figured I’d watch it once then toss it in the corner and allow it to gather dust.  At least I’d have one more Franco film for my collection even if I never opened the case again.  However, I was more than pleasantly surprised.  I was entertained throughout most of the film.  This may say more about my ability to tolerate trash cinema than it says about everyone else’s taste, but I found the film to be fun and painless.

The story is fairly simple: the Killer Barbys (a real-life Spanish horror-punk band that apparently still occasionally plays a one-off show even now) experience a breakdown on the way to their next gig.  Fortunately, they break down near an ancient and mysterious castle and are taken in by the castle caretaker.  Unfortunately, the castle is occupied by a vampire that needs the blood of youth to remain young herself.  As band members get knocked off one by one it’s up to the survivors to solve the mystery before they all disappear forever.

The film opens, like many Franco films, in a bar with music playing.  But instead of Franco’s typical jazz tunes, this is hard core punk rock courtesy of the Killer Barbys.  And the song ain’t half bad, either.  But once the band is back on the road, the van (more than one critic has noted the similarity to Scooby Doo in characterization, plot, and even with the vehicle the group drives) breaks down forcing the kids to spend the night at an old castle.  Unbeknownst to them, castle caretaker Arkan (Aldo Sambrell) also cares for his lover, the vampiric Countess Condesa (Mariangela Giordano), who is slowly dying due to a lack of youthful blood.  The arrival of the band is most propitious….

There is much wandering around the cobwebbed halls of the decrepit castle.  But these punk rockers are more intelligent than your average goths as they figure out all is not what it seems to be pretty quickly.  But it’s too late by that time as the group has become separated.  So Mario (Charlie S. Chaplin) and Flavia (Sylvia Superstar) attempt to round up the other members and escape before they all succumb to the Countess’ blood lust.

Typical of many Franco films, Killer Barbys (not surprisingly, Mattel wouldn’t sell the rights for the use of the Barbie spelling, hence Barby) is clearly in softcore territory.  There is a tired schtick of two band members who are always sexed up and just can’t get enough of each other.  There is an extended—and pretty boring—sex scene with these two in the van.  It’s not terribly erotic, there isn’t even any real nudity, and it’s so fake it’s laughable.  Was Franco losing his touch?  Nah, he still had it.  Later on there is another scene where the Countess seduces a band member, tying him to the bed and doing the ol’ bump and grind with him before stabbing him and cavorting with the corpse in blood-smeared fashion.

Also typical of Franco, who was never truly interested in blood and gore and simply couldn’t be bothered with producing quality effects, there are any number of death scenes that range from pretty terrible to decent.  These aren’t the only scenes that betray the shoestring budget of Killer Barbys.  There are plenty of fog-bound forest scenes but they are marred by the single fog machine the production had available; thus, many scenes of fog depict a single, well-defined stream of fog which is obviously being produced just off camera.  Nevertheless, Franco does manage to wring some production value from a few of these scenes.

And while Franco himself doesn’t appear in the film like he does so many of his other films, he does manage to include some weird characters that don’t amount to much other than to irritate the viewer.  A handyman named Baltazar (Santiago Segura)—nudge nudge, wink wink—is perpetually hanging around with two little people he keeps referring to as “his children.”  It’s not exactly clear whether these two fellows are actually meant to portray youngsters or satanic acolytes, but this could actually be only the second time in cinematic history when middle-aged midgets were called on to play small children without the use of makeup of any kind, always a better choice than actual child actors.  For those of you who are curious as to the other film being referenced, it’s called Burial Ground, a zombie sleazefest that stars Mariangela Giordano as the buxom mother who gets disfigured by a suckling child zombie.  Let’s just say it has to be seen to be believed.  Giordano starred in tons of trash films in the 70’s and 80’s and is always easy on the eyes though her face was showing her age by this time.

Speaking of Giordano, she was 59 years of age when called on by Franco to star as the Countess in Killer Barbys.  She has several extended nude scenes and I have to say she is very well-preserved and still sexy even as she was closing in on the end of her sixth decade of life.  Santiago Segura, who plays Baltazar, has had a long career in Spanish movies and television, punctuated by the occasional supporting role or bit part in more prestigious American genre features.  Aside from these two actors, Aldo Sambrell is probably the most recognizable “name” in the film.  He played in many of the best spaghetti westerns including Leone’s Man with No Name trilogy as well as films like Navajo Joe and Duck, You Sucker!  Sylvia Superstar isn’t the best-looking woman but she has a rockin’ body and shows it off for most of the film as she wanders around in a Spiderman crop-top and sexy red panties.  She reminds me a bit of Franco’s last film muse and long-time domestic companion, Lina Romay, whose face wasn’t terribly attractive and who looked better the fewer clothes she was wearing.  And yes, Charlie S. Chaplin is not only the actor’s real name, but he is actually related to the Charlie Chaplin.

Ultimately the Countess is defeated in what must be one of the most anticlimactic and hilarious endings ever conceived.  The film ends with a rather long-winded written explanation of subsequent events, assuring viewers that nothing was actually real and all was well with each member of the Killer Barbys, perhaps indicating that Franco’s tongue was firmly in his cheek when this film was made.  It all adds up to some questionable but quirky fun.  Franco shows he still has the occasional flair for an atmospheric or sleazy scene and the film is (almost) always entertaining, aside from several overly long softcore scenes which suffer from a lack of editing.

In the end I’m not sure this review is going to be terribly helpful.  I enjoyed this film and will watch it again.  However, it certainly isn’t a fan favorite among Franco acolytes and it is admittedly not the best place to start if you’ve never seen Franco.  But for the unabashed Franco fan, don’t let other reviews scare you away—this is a far cry from Franco’s worst work.

Kino Lorber has again teamed up with the good folks over at Redemption to release this Blu-ray package.  The special features are light, but it does come with newly translated optional English subtitles as well as English, Spanish, and French soundtracks.  Troy Howarth, a Franco fan and genre enthusiast as well as a popular author, contributes an informative and entertaining commentary which adds to the film.

Killer Barbys will be released in September and can be purchased at kinolorber.com or through Amazon.