Walerian Borowczyk’s treatment of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel is among the most powerful, and certainly the most imaginative. Borowczyk’s meticulous attention to detail and penchant for debauched madness grant this reworking a delirious air of perversity, easily outclassing more contemporary outings. The film’s success is primarily due to Udo Kier’s dynamic performance as the dastardly Dr. Jekyll. While indifferent dubbing silences Kier’s exotic accent, his suave Germanic features fit the mad doctor’s scrubs perfectly.

Borowczyk’s film begins with a frenzied nocturnal chase through the misty back alleys of London. A frightened woman is brutally beaten to death by an anonymous assailant. In the following scene, a group of guests including a general, a reverend, and a fellow scientist, Dr. Lanyon, (played by Spanish horror icon Howard Vernon) congregate at Dr. Jekyll’s mansion for his wedding ceremony. Over a lavish banquet the party discusses Dr. Jekyll’s newest findings, much to the scrutiny of Dr. Lanyon. Jekyll tries in vain to convince Lanyon of his findings which concern transcendentalism and his ability to achieve a higher consciousness through science. However, the friendly banter is suddenly disrupted by a series of bizarre sexual murders, causing the guests’ skepticism of Jekyll’s findings to be gruesomely swept away.

If the film were only to offer its rudimentary plot and body count pacing, it wouldn’t be the masterfully constructed magnum opus it is. Long a purveyor of "artistic sleaze" director Borowczyk mines new territory here, effortlessly fusing gruesome horror with astonishing sexuality. Borowczyk further layers his film with tasteful visual symbolism and metaphor, which are never pretentious enough to render the film opaque or vaporous. The film’s excellent pace acts as a potent catalyst for entertainment, never allowing this already arty film to grow vapid.

Borowczyk’s most fascinating (and obvious) visual metaphor in the film is his sense of lighting. There is hardly one scene that doesn’t sport pockets of light struggling against the oppressive darkness. The effect is both a visually and intellectually pleasing one. The film appears lustrous, with shafts of light shimmering on the actors’ clothes. However, the light and dark imagery is far more profound than a mere aesthetic effect. The pervading darkness threatening to overtake the patches of light is a metaphor for Dr. Jekyll’s anguish over his alternate personality (Mr. Hyde). Just as the darkness threatens to engulf the light, Jeckyll’s inner darkness (Mr. Hyde) threatens to overtake the entire man. This motif can also be applied more broadly to the guests of the house: the photography during the crucial dinner scene is shimmering, portraying them in a lucid, flattering light. However, dark and hidden perversions lie not too close from the surface.

Such perversions provide the bulk of the shocks in the film. Hyde is indeed a beast, and in a typically Borowczykian turn, is endowed with a fearsome, pointed phallus (recalling his 1975 film THE BEAST) which he puts to good use to rape women to death. In one particularly gross scene, he employs his member (in graphic, borderline hardcore fashion) to publicly satisfy the general’s daughter. And in a particularly imaginative new wrinkle in the oft-filmed tale, Hyde influences others’ behavior, as the said woman falls in love with the beastly man, entranced by his ruthless actions. And Jeckyll’s wife, Fanny, is equally enamored by her husband’s new self. That is, only when she is also transformed into her alter ego. She reverts back to her primal self in the same outrageous fashion as her husband: by bathing in a chemically treated bath of blood. These transformation scenes provide the most astonishing sequences of the film. Kier’s elaborate transformation is the most fascinating. With his wife spying in the distance, Dr. Jekyll draws a bath and prepares for his terrifying transformation. Borowczyk, in a testament to his firm grasp of cinematic technique, further drapes his light/dark motif on this segment. As Jeckyll makes his final preparations for Hyde’s unleashing, his face and laboratory grow darker. Soon only a shaft of light is left over his face. Hyde is almost in complete control, and all Jeckyll has to do now is take a bath…

Throughout the film’s relatively short running time, Borowczyk continues to inject careful consideration into each and every frame. Witness the quick, worried glance Kier takes in the mirror early on in the film, a subtle hint as to his horrible secret. And the theme of the dangers of transcendentalism, so characterized by Jeckyll’s curious malady, continues to show itself in different guises. In one such scene, Hyde snickers at the general while tying him up that he is out of his element in such a civilian setting, and that the general will soon see new visions. The most potent example of this danger occurs when Dr. Lanyon sees for himself Hyde’s astonishing metamorphosis back into the humble Dr. Jekyll. A skeptic until this incident, Lanyon is unable to cope with such a shattering revelation and has thus "transcended" to the role of a believer, and he dies of shock. In addition, the concept of an excessively large physical space (here, the mansion) providing a claustrophobic atmosphere is well utilized here, far better than in the director’s WITHIN A CLOISTER. Never does the mansion betray its size, as Borowczyk chooses to use close and medium shots exclusively. Thus, a festering claustrophobia is achieved, rather than agoraphobia, and it is a stimulant for debauchery. Finally, one of Borowczyk’s flagship themes-antiquity as fetishism-plays a key role here, as there is a stifling air of sexual tension courtesy of the ladies’ tight and revealing corsets and dresses.

Borowczyk concludes the film in a meticulously circular fashion. The film begins with the following passage from the novel:

There was something strange in my sensations, indescribably new
And incredibly sweet. I knew myself, at the first breath of this new
Life, to be tenfold more wicked and the thought delighted me like wine.

Taking the nihilistic introductory tone to its logical conclusion, Borowczyk shows Hyde and Fanny’s devilish alter ego frenziedly destroying any evidence of their past selves. They destroy the mansion (and thus, their past lives) and ride off in a carriage to a dubious future, savagely making love. This conclusion is a perfect stitch to the introductory quote and atmosphere. Because of such careful precision and craftsmanship, DR. JEKYLL AND HIS WOMEN transpires to be one of Borowczyk’s very best, and sadly his last great film before he descended into the netherworld of soft-core erotica.