Jess Franco is what you would call an exploitation renaissance man. As a director he's known primarily in the states for the psychedelic lesbian vampire film "Vampyros Lesbos" ('71) and the misogynistic madness of "Eugenie" ('70) and "Wanda the Wicked Warden" ('77). Franco also perfected (if not entirely created) that unwritten cinematic law that all female vampires are sexually insatiable and heavy into lesbian sex. In addition to these rather dubious achievements, the Spanish filmmaker has also produced, scored, shot and even acted in hundreds of productions; many of which have been re-titled and re-edited so often that it is virtually impossible to establish a complete filmography.

Now in his 70's, this prolific b-movie maverick continues to produce exploitation features at a breathless pace. In the past five years he has directed at least nine films, not including the writing or producing of countless others. In the 1980's, when venues for his particular brand of entertainment disappeared (primarily drive-ins and grind houses), his work all but vanished from the US. Fortunately, there has been a recent resurgence in foreign/independent film with several direct-to-video companies catering to the home entertainment market. Distributors such as Sub Rosa (responsible for this release) have given new life to films that would have otherwise languished on the shelf or played in specialized markets then quickly forgotten. What is maddening about this resurgence is that many of these "films" are shot-on-video indulgences that are difficult to endure. If these specialty distributors were sharing little gems of exploitation, that would be an entirely different matter, but many seem intent on releasing titles that practically dare one to watch for more than 10 minutes.

Jess Franco's "Vampire Junction" is just such a film. Shot on video at what appears to be a deserted old west amusement park, this updating of the psychedelic lesbian genre is an exercise in tedium. The one plus here, and it's a major one, is the star of the film, Franco's wife and partner-in-crime Lina Romey. The two of them have been making films together for almost thirty years and it's a genuine kick to see this actress (an exploitation icon) still game for whatever is thrown her way. In her prime Romey excelled in feisty, antagonistic characters. One of her most memorable was the sadistic prison dyke in "Wanda" (also marketed as an "Ilsa" film). Her twisted sex scene in that film (one involving a series of needles) is a great moment in trash cinema. It's too bad that her (meager) talents are wasted in a film that makes such precious little sense.

The skeleton of plot involves Romey as a journalist (or maybe she's a doctor) who drives through a rain storm (a shot repeated infinitum) to a small town dubbed "Shit City." She's in search of a surgeon who she intends to interview for reasons never very clear. The deserted city seems to have only one resident (who, inexplicably, pretends to be two different people) and a sheriff who carries a rifle and wears a cowboy hat. She is directed to a motel (or a saloon?) where she is met by the female proprietor with a shotgun. Conveniently enough, the proprietor is also the wife of the mysterious surgeon. Romey tells the woman she's in town to interview her husband and is pointed to a table in the empty space. There a sad, fearful old man sits espousing some gibberish about "the children of the night." The proprietor quickly silences him and sends him off to his room. Then she promptly offers our heroine a place to stay... for one hundred dollars. After all this questionable exposition, Romey takes a room and doesn't bother much attempting to speak with the surgeon again. What follows is a series of seemingly unrelated set pieces. Two ghost-like vampire women follow Romey into her room and about the town. A male vampire in a black cape and "old west" attire appears and disappears frequently, usually during the day. A long, drawn-out lesbian vampire seduction takes place between two very unappealing actresses that culminates in the shaving of pubic hair. Boring, but no less bizarre, "Junction" is the erotic nightmare of a geriatric on acid.

Scenes and plot details are so random that one might assume that Franco was up to his old tricks of creating entire productions around outtake footage. There is also a strange male narration at the beginning that may or may not be speaking for Romey's character. The production is so fractured and the post-production dubbing so poor that a male voice subbing for our heroine is not entirely out of the question. If this had been shot on film and released thirty years ago, its "abstract" sensibilities might have been mistaken in some circles as "art" - not unlike the previously mentioned "Vampyros Lesbos."

Adding to the surreal nature of the film is a bizarre score that is so inappropriate and annoying that finishing "Junction" is not possible without continuously muting the sound. Ironic when you consider the fact that many of Franco's soundtracks from the early '70's are considered classics of psychedelic lounge. This strange release is also being sold as a "western," which would explain the silly old west facades and "cowboy wear" of the male characters. But the action takes place in seemingly modern day with cars, laptop computers, cell phones and a vampire who can be reached at his very own web address. Ultimately, attempting to make sense of the film is useless as it's perfectly clear that Franco and company care little about narrative coherence. It might have been tolerable had the production been technically competent, but every aspect of "Junction" is on the lowest level. It appears to have been shot on an old VHS recorder with a malfunctioning zoon lens. It is also filled with video effects that were popular in the early days of MTV, which means lots of shots intentionally over exposed or filtered in some way. It's an ugly production; something that Franco would never have been accused of in his prime.

The extras are plentiful for a video entertainment of such dubious quality. First up is a Spanish horror video short called "Evil Night." Two couples go camping in the woods and awake the dead. Flesh eating zombies (are there any other kind?) crawl from shallow graves and naturally attack the foursome. No plot or characterization is present as the short exists solely to showcase poor zombie make-up and over-the-top gore. Shot unspectacularly on video and subtitled, it's the perfect companion to "Junction." There are also two curious "segments" hosted by Linnea Quigley where she expounds on Franco's "Blind Target" and "Mari-Cookie and the Killer Tarantula." These two mercifully short pieces feature the video performer (the word actress is a stretch) in some cheap motel room discussing her work in each production. Also included are several Sub Rosa trailers that all share what could be politely called a "sub-Troma" aesthetic. In what looks to be an entirely new genre: the "back yard splatter play," several non-actors run around in front of a video camera and attempt to do what John Waters did over thirty years ago. Only one of the titles, "The Undertow" looked even remotely interesting, but the trailer was poorly edited.

Sub Rosa should be applauded for its attempt to bring the exploitation genre into the new century. It should also be taken to task for such uninspired entertainment. If this genre is going to thrive it's going to take a lot more than a video recorder and sheer will.