Directors: Jesús Franco , Pierre Quérut, Jean Rollin
REVIEW BY JEREMIAH
I could barely keep up with this one (the second viewing helped little in that regard). Every turn of insanity, every ridiculous moment, every time someone opened their mouth to speak (I'm looking at you Jess Franco), I was barely able to process it. Most of the time I was catapulted forward, barely given any chance to recover from proceeding nonsense.
Nonsense like, naked blood-sucking zombie women replete with the loudest of cartoon slurping noises. Grown men speaking in baby talk. On-the-nose dialogue fully spelling out the film's plot (with little actual clarity gained as a result). Filthy old gate-keeping bastards that seemingly exist solely as harbingers of doom. A perpetually noosed (and perpetually disappointed) ghost dad. A foreboding black-marble dildo monolith inexplicably placed in the middle of a bedroom floor. Dead bats and chicken bones placed on everyone's beds, and a surprisingly catchy score that wouldn't sound out of place in a high-profile Jean Rollin film (or some of it, in an action parody porno).
A Virgin Among the Living Dead is barely coherent, but in a world filled with characters as looney as this, in a story driven by the madcap antics of said characters—who even cares. I don't. Hell if Franco does.