Jess Franco's 1974 take on the burgeoning "witch hunt" sub genre- EXORCISM- benefits from what is widely regarded as the director's most prolific and successful period. His producer at the time, Robert de Nesle, was a man short on cash and desperate for a fast buck, forcing Franco to use his imagination more extensively for his cinematic expression. Franco's wife, Lina Romay (also a star in the film) was a willing accomplice to Franco's decidedly eccentric cinematic excursions (as she remains today). Franco began working for France's Eurocine´ Theater, the premiere Euro-horror hub. Perhaps because of these circumstances his films from this period are widely regarded as some of his best and most successful. But whatever the hypotheses, EXORCISM-one of his most bloodthirsty films-emerges as one of his best.

The man himself stars as Mathis Vogel, a contributor to a fetish/ S&M publication "Dagger in The Garter" which hosts frequent black magic sex shows. Attending one of these shows, he soon becomes appalled at the blasphemous sight and soon takes it upon himself to dispatch of the satanic swingers (including Lina Romay). It seems that Vogel's bloodlust is re-ignited, as he also happens to be an ex-priest who's overzealous persecutions of sinners caused his expulsion. Vogel thus indulges in unholy voyeurism and brutal exorcisms until the law inevitably catches up with him.

What distinguishes EXORCISM from many other throw-away efforts in Franco's 200+ film resume´ is how he manipulates the genre to fit his own fiercely individualistic stylings. Basically, Franco gets to kill two birds with one stone by pouring on the blood for the Grand Guigonal crowd while at the same time mining his incessant fascination for the perverse. Yes, there is the required nudity and lewd situations, but effectively leveling these scenes off are some excellent (however infrequent) sequences of torture, depravity and satanic rites. The blood runs hot and freely here.

Not surprisingly, the most intriguing moments are those in the dark and cavernous bars and night clubs where the satanic clique do their bidding. From the very first frame a terrified (and nude) Romay writhes on a chained, wooden cross, while a dominatrix type cowers over her with a leather whip. A rather unremarkable scene considering Franco's oeuvre, that is until a chicken is slaughtered and the blood smattered on Romay's chained chest. Then the whipping begins. And the stabbing. The lights return and the enthralled crowd cheers. The sadistic element of the film thankfully steers the viewer away from the boredom that would arise from the incessant nagging of nude, writhing bodies. In fact, one such scene contains one of Franco's most lasting images; a nude woman hanging upside down and chained to a cross while her gouged vagina bleeds a cascade of blood over her breasts, and finally into a bowl. This single image persuades the viewer of the unlikely eroticism in violence, an elemental fascination of Franco's.

Then, of course, there is Franco's role. Transforming his somewhat meek countenance into sheer primal violence, he delivers one of his best roles. Franco himself dishes out some of the most brutal violence in the film. One such scene, where he brutally stabs an attendee of a black mass gives an H.G. Lewis film a run for its heart-ripping money. Franco also finds time to pleasure himself on the lovely sights of his cinematic harem and their many sexual escapades. In fact, the sexual element in the film is not wasted either. One startling scene depicts a satanic orgy consisting of a multitude of couples enjoying each other's company. Franco's camera pans out to give a show-stopping view of the moaning, many-limbed mass of flesh.

Speaking of camerawork, EXORCISM is happily immune to another Franco affliction: the overuse of a zoom lens. Yes, it's there alright, but used effectively. Outside of a zoom or an odd fade, the visual field is left largely untouched. Good decisions of Franco's part, as show-off camera work would only detract from his no cost design that of Spain's gothic manors and castles. By juxtaposing the ancient edifices with a modern metropolis, Franco takes further ownership of the genre. Anyway, the scenes of Satanism and torture just wouldn't be the same without the effectively atmospheric (and authentic) dungeons of doom.

Nor would the film be the same without the jazzy, eclectic score. A pungent stew of experimental jazz, progressive rock and more traditionally gothic organ work, it only adds to the weird, psychedelic atmosphere. The soundtrack accomplishes the almost impossible task of dressing Satanism, bondage and torture up into swanky clothes and making it chic. And that's possibly the greatest comment anyone could pay to one of Spain's most underrated solicitors of all things unsightly and macabre.