Double Takes: ‘Flesh for Frankenstein’ (1973) ★★★/ ‘Blood for Dracula’ (1974) ★★ 1/2

Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein 
(a.k.a. Flesh for Frankenstein) fucks
life in the gallbladder.

My fascination with these two movies dates to the very early 1980s, when I lived in Clovis, Calif., and the movies were still known as Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein (in 3-D!) and Andy Warhol’s Dracula, which is how the Tower Theatre in neighboring Fresno advertised them. Though I saw a lot of movies at the Tower, Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein and Dracula would have to wait. I was 14 and both movies were rated X. The indifferent box office cashier probably wouldn’t stop me from buying a ticket, but there was no getting past my parents.

Twenty-plus years later, when Netflix was renting discs through the mail, I finally got to see Andy Warhol’s take on Frankenstein and Dracula. By this time the movies were known as Flesh for Frankenstein and Blood for Dracula. Warhol had little to do with the making of either film, but director Paul Morrissey and star Joe Dallesandro, were part of Warhol’s Factory so I guess that was enough to justify sticking the pop artist’s name on them. The two movies have more in common with earlier Warhol movies—specifically Flesh, Trash and Heat, all directed by Morrissey—than they do to either Mary Shelley’s or Bram Stoker’s novels. The two movies have even more in common with each other. In addition to sharing Morrissey and Dallesandro, both movies star the late Udo Kier, feature Arno Jürging, and contain healthy amounts of sex, nudity and blood, albeit not enough to justify an X rating.

In Frankenstein, Baron Frakenstein (Kier) is trying desperately to create his own zombie army, starting with two beautiful re-animated corpses. Judging his male monster inadequate, Frankenstein and his devoted assistant Otto (Jürging) go in search of a man with a perfect “nasum” and insatiable sex drive, thinking they found him in the form of handsome field hand Sacha (Srdjan Zelenovic, whose acting style suggests he might be an actual zombie). On their way home from a brothel Sacha and his friend Nicholas (Dallesandro) are ambushed by Frank and Otto. Otto snips off Sacha’s head with a pair a giant pruning shears, a scene that would’ve been a little funnier had not Otto paused to brandish the shears at the camera in service to 3-D.

While Frankenstein is drawn to Sacha’s nose, his sister/wife Katrin (Dollar store Zsa Zsa Monique Van Vooren) is all about Nicholas’s dick, promoting the horny farm hand to house servant. Nicholas’s duties include more than fucking Katrin, however, which causes problems when Nicholas finds himself serving dinner to Baron Frank’s monsters, one of whom has the head of his missing friend. Nicholas, understandably, has questions.

You’ll have questions, too, but it’s probably best not to spend too much time pondering them as this Hammer Film gone wrong unfolds. Among some of Flesh for Frankenstein’s highlights: Otto licking the sutures of the female monster (Dalila Di Lazzaro); Baron Frankenstein fucking an open incision on the same monster’s torso, declaring “To know death, Otto, you have to fuck life in the gallbladder!”; and foreplay between Nicholas and Katrin during which Van Vooren loudly slurps on Dallesandro’s armpit.

Dracula is out for blood, but it’s 
Joe Dallesandro who gets the virgins.

The lunacy continues in Blood for Dracula, with Kier, looking like a parody of Rudolph Valentino, as the titular vampire. At the start of the film, Count Dracula is convinced by his manservant Anton (Jürging again) to leave Transylvania for Italy in search of “wer-jun” blood, believing virgins more plentiful in the largely Catholic country. (Did I mention these movies are pretty funny?) Upon arrival in Italy, Anton hears of the di Fiore family, who have four unmarried daughters. “I’m sure they are religious,” a tavern patron tells Anton. “They have a very nice house.”

Il Marchese and La Marchesa di Fiore (Vittorio De Sica and Maxime McKendry respectively) are more than happy to host the count and hope he will marry one of their eligible daughters, Saphiria (Milena Vukotic) or Rubinia (Stefania Casini). Their oldest daughter, Esmeralda (Milena Vukotic), is considered past her prime, and their youngest, Perla (Silvia Dionisio), is only 14, is too young for marriage, even in 1920s Italy. Unbeknownst to their parents, Saphiria and Rubinia said goodbye to their hymens long ago as both women have been fucking the estate’s Marxist handyman Mario (Dallesandro).

Though it contains a fair amount of bloodshed, Blood for Dracula is closer to being softcore porn, with more simulated humping than Flesh for Frankenstein. Dracula is also technically the better made of the two films, with better cinematography and slightly better acting, although its script is inconsistent with its vampire lore (Dracula has no problem walking in sunlight, but complains that his room at the di Fiore estate is too bright). Dallesandro is a block of wood in both films, but he’s more effective in Dracula, if only because he’s better at bad guy roles and Mario is not exactly the protagonist (Mario rapes Perla to save her from Dracula). Kier took it up to 11 in Frankenstein and he saw no reason to dial it down for Dracula, though Jürging’s bug-eyed facial expressions and mangled line readings (“The only thing to do left is pack your personal belongings”) as Anton threatens to eclipse him.

Though I like both movies for their campiness, deadpan humor and featuring a naked Joe Dallesandro, I prefer Flesh for Frankenstein. Both movies have pacing problems, but those problems feel more pronounced in Dracula’s 106-minute runtime. I wouldn’t describe Frankenstein’s 94-minute runtime as tight, but at least it doesn’t wear out its welcome. Another tie-breaker: we only get a glimpse of Dallesandro’s shaft in Blood for Dracula, but he goes full frontal in Flesh for Frankenstein.