Boobs For Frankenstein

Flesh For Frankenstein (1973) was optionally titled Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein and released in 3D, which means, because such technology still wasn’t perfected back in the early ’70s, it gave you an ice cream headache. 

Flesh For Frankenstein is a gore-filled tale of sex, incest, international intrigue, God complexes, and BOOBIES. Waiting for a man with “perfect Serbian features” and a strong libido, the Baron Frankenstein’s plan is to cut off that candidate’s head and re-attach it to the perfect male body he and his dipsh*t assistant Otto already constructed in the lab. This will provide a mate for the female they pre-built.

The less-than-hygienic surgery was more or less a success. When the Baron tries to get the male to mate with the female, nothing happens. Might have something to do with the male being more interested in socializing with men than the feeling up of boobies. Quite possibly the world’s first gay monster.

Baroness Katrin Frankenstein, The Baron’s eternally horny wife/sister with who he shares two young children (not cool), needs a man. She also needs eyebrows. But a man will do for now. Katrin makes the man-made man try to have an erotic moment with her. She shouldn’t have said, “Hold me tighter” as the guy took that literally and squeezed her to death. But not her eyebrows as she didn’t have any.

This event sets up a chaotic chain reaction of splattering blood, stitched flesh becoming un-stitched, more boobies, entrails, yelling…it’s a freakin’ madhouse, I tell you.

Lurid and shocking and even comedic for its time, Flesh For Frankenstein is tame by today’s jaded standards. Although, when was the last time you heard such inspired dialogue as, “To know death, one must f*ck life in the gall bladder”? Sheer poetry.

Boobs For Dracula

The campy, art nouveau Blood For Dracula (1974), produced by eccentric ’60s/‘70s pop artist pop artist/filmmaker Andy Warhol (he turned Campbell’s Soup™ cans into profitable statement art), is also known as Andy Warhol’s Dracula. After watching it, I think a better title might be Boobs for Dracula, as there are lots of those in this straight-faced, porn-lite black comedy.

Count Dracula is fresh out of virgins. Well, who isn’t? In his homeland of Romania, he and his vampire family have bled the countryside dry, and now he’s less than two weeks away from dying. Oh sure, there’s lots of regular blood still left, but he needs the pure blood from virgins. And I thought I was a picky eater.

He and his assistant travel to Italy and are hosted by a family of strapped landowners. They figure if they can get one of their four daughters married off to him, they’ll get a cash bail-out. But the Count and his weirdo accent has specific rules – his new wife must be a “wirgin.”

Of course, the two smoking hot middle sisters lie as they’ve been getting the handyman’s handy man for some time now, and even take off their clothes to prove it. Dracula, starved to the point of being pushed around in wheelchair, bites the hell out of the eldest daughter’s throat and… Uh, oh – the tainted blood wants back out.

In one of the greatest – and longest – convulsive vomiting scenes ever filmed, Dracula is hunched over the bathtub barfing his brains out, while squirming around like a worm on a hot frying pan. “Vomiting looks great when you’ve got a tuxedo on,” he decides later. True that.

One down, one to go. Drac goes after the next sister and gets another gut full of rotten blood. Dang it – why do they keep lying to him? Getting fed up with not being fed up, Dracula sets his sights on the 14 year-old sister. But the Handyman is on to him. After a preemptive reputation besmirching of the young lady (please tell me you know what I meant), he fetches an axe and chops off Dracula’s pointing arm and both of his legs. Undead or not, that looked like it hurt like hell.

So the sisters and the estate now become the property of the Handyman. All in a day’s work. And hey, no more wirgins left to put a damper on the party!