Fascination (1979)

Day 35 of Sobriety. 

 

Fascination is probably one of Jean Rollin’s most representative films. I think that might be largely due to the striking image of scantily-clad scythe-wielding Brigitte Lahaie, which is usually used to promote the film, and which is probably the single most iconic Rollin image.

The film is perhaps the last of Rollin’s “golden age,” as (in my opinion) his films took a significant drop in quality after this with The Night of the Hunted (1980) and The Escapees (1981). Not that those films are without merit (I actually watched The Escapees for the first time two days after watching Fascination), but, for me, they don’t come close to the best of Rollin’s work in the early 70s. I didn’t think Fascination was quite on a par with those earlier films either, but it came close enough and delivered plenty of what I want from a Jean Rollin film. 

 

That is to say it transported me to another world, a world that lingered in some part of my mind　well after the film’s short 82-minute running time. When I watch a Jean Rollin film, I feel like I am being hypnotized. Right from the opening credit sequence, Fascination establishes its own reality. It begins with a long, languid shot of the two main characters (young women) dancing on a stone bridge to strange ethereal music that is coming from a vintage gramophone. It then cuts to an abattoir—replete with grizzly hanging carcasses, where beautifully attired society women are drinking ox blood as a cure for anemia. We are already firmly in Rollin territory.

There is a plot—about a thief on the lam who seeks refuge in an isolated château, but as is often the case in Rollin’s films, the plot does not really seem to be the point, but merely serves as something to hang a succession of dreamlike imagery involving otherworldly female protagonists. For me, the exquisite costumes and scenery were the real stars of Fascination.  As Rollin himself admits during an interview on the blu-ray extras, the acting by some of the more minor cast members lets the side down slightly, but not enough to mar the film too much.

Today marks my fifth week sober. I imagine that if I had watched this film while getting drunk—as I always used to do—it would have washed over me in an inconsequential haze. Being able to give it my full attention, however, it was able to put me in a sublimely strange and dark, but enjoyable mood. I’m looking forward to revisiting some of Rollin’s other films sober. They are sufficiently consciousness-altering by themselves—no booze required. After all--you can't hypnotize a drunk.