By TESS HENSON

Let's face it folks, vampires are damned sexy!

C'mon now, how many of you ladies have lusted after Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee or Frank Langella as Dracula? How many of you gents have drooled over Ingrid Pitt (The Vampire Lovers), Catherine Deneuve (The Hunger) or Anne Parillaud (Innocent Blood)? I'd hazard a guess and say we've all had our fantasies of any or all of these beautiful people reprising the role of elegant, sensuous and dominating bloodsucker.

However, never does this sub-genre of horror get anymore eerily seductive than in the gorgeously filmed and hauntingly compelling Daughters Of Darkness (1971) (A.K.A. Blood On The Lips--1971; Blut en den Lippen--1971; Children Of The Night--1971 video title; Erzebeth--1971; Les Levres rouges--1971; The Promise Of Red Lips--1971; The Red Lips--1971; The Redness Of Lips--1971; La Vestale di Satana--1971 Italy).

Not to be confused with Vampyres: Daughters Of Darkness, which was released in 1974 and is another erotically-charged vampire film (or so I'm told), this film (Daughters Of Darkness) was directed by Belgian filmmaker Harry Kumel--who seems to be as prolific in his native country in the horror genre as Mario Bava was in Italy--and tells the story of a surviving and still beautiful Countess Bathory haunting modern-day Europe.

Now, a little about the legendary and very real Countess. Elisabeth Bathory was born in 1560 in Hungary to a prominent and rich family with strong political ties. She was bethrothed at age 11, and married at age 15, to a heroic warrior (dubbed The Black Hero of Hungary) named Ferencz Nadasdy. As was typical of most soldiers, Nadasdy often left the Countess to her own devices in the bleak Castle Cjesthe for long periods of time to seek and engage in new battle campaigns. She had a terrible temper and mean streak, and probably would have been classified as sociopathic in today's society.

I wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't captured and tortured poor harmless animals as a child, for what she began to do to her innocent servant girls became bloody atrocities that someone like Vlad Tepes (with whom her family had an interesting connection) would even probably shudder to think on. She developed an interest in the occult, and with the aid of two of her nurses who also practiced the Black Arts - a woman named Duvalia, and another named Ilona - began to dabble in arcane and dark knowledge. When she discovered torture devices in the dungeon of the castle, her fate was set as she became fascinated with pain and perverse sexual pleasures.

Many have written that Bathory was a lesbian, and was very selective of the type of girls with which to engage in her dark dalliances. Only the most beautiful of girls were chosen. At first, while her husband was still alive, these escapades consisted of whippings, the pinching of nipples with a pair of custom-made, red hot silver pincers, the slicing open of fingers and breasts and other, almost banal compared to what was to come, tortures that did not result in any of the girl's deaths.

Her husband even laughed off the Countess's strange tastes when he discovered a naked servant girl tied to a tree, smeared in honey and covered with the stings and bites of bees and ants that had been attracted to the sweet, sticky substance. However, after the Count's death (which was speculated to be by poison), Elisabeth had full reign to indulge her twisted desires with impunity.

As she began to age - having once been one of the most beautiful women in her native country - she began to seek out ways to extend her youth and beauty into infinity. One day, while a young servant girl was brushing Elisabeth's hair, the girl pulled the Countess's hair a little too roughly and promptly received a hard blow across the nose for her troubles. Blood sprayed from the wound and landed on the Countess's hand. As she looked down, she imagined that the skin beneath the blood had miraculously re-attained it's former firmness and supple softness.

An idea struck her, and off to her two witch-nurses she went, asking advice on how to extend her beauty with the blood of young women. They suggested that she bathe in the blood of only the most beautiful, and preferably virgin, of girls. And thus began the hideous reign of the Blood Countess.

It is speculated that somewhere in the vicinity of 600 maidens were killed in the late 1500's and early 1600's to appease Countess Bathory's quest for youth. The girls would be strung upside down, their throats slit, the blood collected in pitchers and then warmed and poured over the Countess as she reclined in a bathing basin. After awhile, she even began drinking the blood of her victims in an effort to remain young. However, she began to notice that the effects weren't as immediate and long lasting as she had hoped.

Her witches then recommended that she should bathe in the blood of nobility instead of peasantry, and after inviting to her castle and killing 40 or so young noblewomen and throwing their corpses over the ramparts of the castle, the Countess was apprehended. As she was of noble birth, she evaded the death penalty and was instead made to live the rest of her days walled completely up in her own castle with only a small hole through which she received food and water. She died in 1614 at the ripe young age of 54.

And now on to a more jet-setting version of the Countess. In Daughters Of Darkness , we are introduced to a young, newlywed couple traveling by train across Europe. Stefan (played by Dark Shadow's John Karlen) is a dominating young man with a shadowy past, who treats his new and doting wife Valerie (Danielle Ouimet) as not much more than good-looking fluff. The two stop off at some exotic looking Belgian (I'm sure) resort in the off season and reserve the Honeymoon Suite for themselves at a posh hotel. As it is the off season, they are the only ones there - well, except for Pierre the concierge. Not for long though, as a long and sleek black car pulls up later that night, and out emerges the elegant Countess Bathory (Delphine Seyrig) and her lovely traveling companion Ilona (Andrea Rau).

As Elisabeth and Ilona are checking in, they notice Stefan and Valerie in the dining room having dinner. At once, Elisabeth is overjoyed that someone is at the resort this time of year, and that they are such good-looking people as well. The concierge is taken aback by the Countess, as he remembers that another Bathory who looks very much like her had stayed at the resort when he was a young man. Surely she couldn't be the same woman, having not aged a day in the forty-odd years that have passed since then? "Perhaps it was my mother", Elisabeth cleverly offers.

Back in their room, Ilona seems distant and withdrawn as she kneels at Elisabeth's feet and rests her head in the Countess's lap. Elisabeth asks her what is troubling her and asks to see her eyes. At once, Elisabeth can see that Ilona is jealous of the way she looked at the beautiful Valerie earlier that evening. When she confronts Ilona with her jealousy, Ilona responds that she is just very tired and really wants to die. However, Elisabeth will not release Ilona from her sway, and Ilona just tags along in a sort of dreamy limbo.

The next day, as Stefan and Valerie are returning from a trip to a local town where the unexplained murders of young girls have been taking place, Elisabeth encounters them in the lobby. Positively gushing with sociopathic charm, the Countess demands that they meet her for drinks later on that evening in the lounge. They do, and almost immediately the Countess is smitten with Valerie's vulnerable beauty and innocence.

Stefan begins to ask the Countess of her heritage - where she is from and that sort of thing--and he finds out that she is a Bathory. Elisabeth asks him if he knows of her ancestor--the Blood Countess. Stefan says that he has read some about the murderess. Then, as if in some sort of sexual foreplay, the Countess stands behind Stefan giving him a backrub as they both describe the Blood Countess's atrocities to one another in climactic ecstasy.

This is too much for Valerie, and she runs up to their room to get away from Elisabeth. Stefan goes after her, and instead of trying to placate her, he takes his belt off and begins to beat her with it. Stefan definitely has a mean streak, as in an earlier scene we see him backhand Valerie when they are at the scene of one the girl's murders. One begins to wonder at this point, however, if perhaps Stefan has fallen under the spell of Elisabeth - or her witch companion Ilona - and is driven to perform these cruelties to Valerie in order to drive her into the arms of the Countess.

Which is exactly what happens. After the beating, Valerie packs her bags and heads to the train station to leave Stefan. Elisabeth catches up to her and persuades her to stay and tell her of her woes. Valerie also falls under her spell and goes back to the hotel with Elisabeth. Upon arrival, instead of going back to the room she shared with Stefan - she goes to Elisabeth's room - much against the desire of Stefan. However, Elisabeth's sensual power holds sway, and Stefan is quelled.

As Valerie spends the night in the arms of the Countess, Ilona pays a visit to Stefan - who has been attracted to her feline beauty from the moment he saw her. They make love, and afterwards Stefan goes to shower. As Ilona watches him bathe, he tries to persuade her to join him, but for some reason she is reluctant. He pulls her against her will into the shower, and as the water hits her skin, Ilona becomes hysterical, falling out of the shower, knocking off a straight-razor and then falling on it--killing herself.

Valerie is sent back to her room by Elisabeth to soothe her husband, and finds Ilona dead, naked and bloody on the bathroom floor with Stefan naked and at her side. Again, this is almost too much for her, and as she turns to leave Elisabeth comes in to see her dead companion. Without remorse - for she has found a new companion in Valerie - she immediately takes charge of the situation and Stefan becomes her willing slave as they take Ilona's body to the nearby beach to be buried in a shallow grave.

Elisabeth makes Stefan bury Ilona, urging him to hurry, as the sun will soon be up. He digs a shallow grave, and while down in the hole, Elisabeth pushes Ilona's corpse down onto him--effectively burying him. However Valerie--not completely under Elisabeth's sway yet - reaches out for Stefan's hand and pulls him out of the grave. They make a mad dash for the hotel before the sun can come up, and once again Valerie spends the daytime hours sleeping with the Countess. That night after sunset, Elisabeth prepares an elaborate dinner of lobster and other rich delicacies and tells Valerie to go and fetch her husband so he can join them.

When Valerie goes back to the room, Stefan is packing to leave and attempts to make Valerie come with him. Valerie explains to him that she will be staying with the Countess, and goes back to Elisabeth's room. Stefan follows her there, arguing with her and trying to persuade her to come with him when Elisabeth walks in. Stefan is grappling with Valerie in his attempt to drag her back to their room when he falls on the glass dinner table smashing it and a large glass bowl to bits, and getting his wrists cut up pretty badly in the process.

Elisabeth sees the blood and immediately falls to her knees beside Stefan and begins to feed. Valerie - also having been converted - takes the other wrist. They then dispose of Stefan's drained body and with Valerie driving, flee the hotel. It is almost dawn, and the Countess urges Valerie to drive faster and faster trying to outrun sun. Alas, the sun is too fast for them, and catches Valerie's eyes through the trees. She loses control of the car and hits a tree head-on. The Countess is propelled headfirst out of the windshield and is impaled through the heart on a large tree branch. We also are led to believe that Valerie perishes.

Flash forward a few months later--a street carnival in some European town is taking place--perhaps it is Greece, Hungary - somewhere vaguely gypsy-ish. A young couple dressed in tennis gear is standing in the street enjoying the native musicians. Suddenly, a lovely blonde woman approaches them from behind and immediately charms them into having drinks with her back at the hotel. As the three of them turn around, we see that it is Valerie, dressed in Elisabeth's clothing and speaking in Elisabeth's lilting voice, guiding the unsuspecting couple into her web of sensual terror. Long live the Countess!

The question is: Is this really a movie about vampires? Was the real Elisabeth Bathory a vampire? I mean a vampire in the supernatural sense. My answer to these questions would be maybe. There are certainly some supernatural qualities about the film. Yes, Elisabeth, Ilona and ultimately Valerie are blood-drinkers, but - they do not sprout fangs and batwings (although there is one beautiful shot in the film where Valerie is standing atop a dune overlooking Ilona's freshly dug grave, complaining of the chill in the air. Elisabeth comes up behind her and unfolds her black cloak like a great pair of bat wings to shield her from the cold), and they can see themselves in the mirror.

On the other hand, both Elisabeth and Valerie--after she is turned - have sensitivity to sunlight. And the Countess herself is seemingly immortal--only dying like a true vampire - impaled through the heart. Why is Ilona so afraid of the water in the shower scene where she dies? Well, if you know anything about witches in the Black Magic sense, you know they are afraid of water.

Dunking was a popular torture method to determine if one was a witch dunking in water. If the woman floated, she was a witch and was executed. If she drowned, she was proclaimed innocent, but lost her life in the process. Catch-22. Also, evil beings of any kind, be they witches, demons, ghosts etc, are always afraid of crossing water - therefore I would suppose they would also be afraid of having it actually drench them. The real Countess Bathory, while bathing and drinking the blood of her victims--practiced vampirism, but was not an actual vampire in the supernatural sense. So, answer to question one--yes. Answer to question two--no.

Another poser--what are the mysterious circumstances behind Stefan's reluctance to have Valerie meet his family? This is not explained fully--well, not at all actually--but is compelling nonetheless. His erratic and cruel behavior towards Valerie begins to manifest itself before they actually meet the Countess--and then escalates after. Was the mean streak always there, and then enhanced by whatever spell Elisabeth cast over him?

In a phone conversation with a man who seems to be Stefan's father (although he looks too young to be his father), the man says something to the effect of "...what will she do when you tell her about us..." A very cryptic moment in the film that is never explained or touched on again, but that may elude to Stefan's darker nature that was subsequently enhanced by his encounter with the Countess.

This film is beautifully shot, and while not as filled with phantasmagorical imagery as a Bava or Argento film, will still leave you with the feeling that you have just watched a work of art come to life. Many of the shots are imbued with a blue glow and others with an amber-tinted red that will leave your eyes wanting more. In an ingenious twist, the director, Kumel, having found in post-production that a scene near the end of the film had become solarized and not having enough money left to re-shoot, instead implemented a series of three musical 'barbs', if you will, to enhance the three solarized instances. It works, and looks like it was just deliberately meant to be there. Smart man.

The performances of all the main players involved, Seyrig, Rau, Ouimet, and Karlen, are compelling and mesmerizing. Especially Delphine Seyrig as Elisabeth Bathory. Instead of imbueing the watcher with a sense of dread, she will leave you rooting for her all the way through the film. Seyrig portrays the Countess with an effortless and endearing sensuality that you can't help but be drawn to. And Andrea Rau and Danielle Ouimet add respectively animalistic and innocent beauty to round out the pleasing visuals. John Karlen was really the cutie in this film as well, much better looking than in his role of Willie Loomis on TV's Dark Shadows.

My source for this film is the collector's edition Director's Cut video version released by Anchor Bay. This presents the film in widescreen, and is the complete, uncut, unrated version. The runtime of this unrated version is 100 minutes. The theatrical release was shaved by 12 minutes to ensure an R rating, and much of the nudity and blood was edited out. There are two different DVD editions out now--the Special Edition, which is essentially the same as the video version with the exception that there is audio commentary added on the DVD version by actor John Karlen and journalist David Del Valle. This version was also released by Anchor Bay in 1998.

This year, in May, Anchor Bay re-released this overlooked, underrated film on DVD in a letterboxed version with 2 audio commentaries - one by director Harry Kumel and the 2nd with John Karlen and David Del Valle (which is probably the same audio commentary that was included on the first version)--an interview, photo gallery and radio spots.