She can turn the world on with the inside of her mouth. Hold on, that doesn’t sound right. What? You didn’t think I was going to say “smile,” did you? Don’t be silly, real people don’t smile, they scream. In fact, no-one smiles, ever. If you see someone smiling, whether it be on television or down at your local roller disco, they’re being totally insincere. On the other hand, screaming is the most honest form of human expression there is. We all know what we hear when someone screams, but what does one see? I’ll tell you what, every reddish contour and moist lump inside the mouth of the person doing the screaming. And depending on the scream’s quality, the person on the receiving end of said scream should experience a fair of amount of unease. If your scream is met with cold indifference, than the blame rests squarely on the shoulders of the screamer. A robust approach to mouth circumference (try to get your mouth to look as round as possible) combined with a terrified brand of toothiness are essential ingredients when it comes to emitting a first-rate scream. Now, I’ve been subjected to a lot of onscreen screaming as of late, so to say that I’m a little jaded in regard to sizing up screaming would be an understatement. However, the manner in which I judge screams has been forever altered after witnessing Lina Romay (Ilsa: The Wicked Warden) wail like a banshee in Jess Franco’s Macumba Sexual, the Lawrence of Arabia of erotic horror films set in a psychosexual dreamworld. Come for the naked writhing, stay for the naked writhing; it’s naked writhing, what else do you want? The screams that come from Lina’s mouth in this film were absolutely perfect. In terms of meeting out the frightfully specific criteria I have laid out for myself when it comes to evaluating screams, nobody comes close challenging the disquieting holler the gorgeous Lina Romay produces throughout this luridly strange and strangely lurid undertaking.
If you experienced what shapely real estate agent Alice Brooks (Lina Romay) experiences while on vacation in this film, you would scream, too. Yet there was something magical about the way Lina opens her gob to express terror that went well beyond your typical screech. It was almost as if she employed her entire body when it came time to pierce the air with a petrified shriek, as everything from her eyes (which seem to increase in size as her cries grew louder) to her stomach (which seems to throb with an undulating rhythm) appear to be in concert with one another.
Dabbling in a number of different genres throughout his career, Jess Franco seems to do his best work when the line between eroticism and horror is sufficiently blurred. And in Macumba Sexual that line becomes so blurry, that you’ll need a magnifying glass in order to spot all the subtle nuances that are taking place right before your unfocused eyes.
A figure wearing a white robe, her arms stretched toward the sky, is the first image we see as the film gets underway. As the sound of culturally significant wailing dominates the audio spectrum, Jess Franco’s camera takes care of the visual end of things by aiming it at a group of palm trees (their leaves gently blowing in the wind), a sail boat floating on the water, and the waves crashes against a rocky beach. In terms of establishing location, Jess Franco is the master when it comes to using the natural beauty of his surroundings.
While the view is stunning, I don’t watch Jess Franco films for the breathtaking scenery, I’m here to see Lina Romay (who is credited as “Candy Coster”) writhe around in a frantic state of sexualized disarray. And somehow knowing exactly what I’m thinking, Jess follows up the footage of the Canary Islands by showing Lina Romay writhing in bed without any clothes on. Sporting a cute blonde bob, Lina is playing Alice Brooks, a woman with not only the most terrifying scream this side of Bilbao, but also the juiciest ass I’ve seen in donkey’s years. A real estate agent on vacation with her tall, French husband (the always debonair Antonio Mayans), Alice is currently having a nightmare about a woman named Tara (Ajita Wilson), who is, get this, lying in the sand with a dead inside out demon chicken on her crotch. Letting out the first of her many blood-curdling screams (dead inside out demon chickens freak her out), Alice wakes up to find her husband napping at his typewriter.
Her scream is one of the most effective I’ve ever heard, her blonde bob wig is freaking adorable, and her ass is sublime, what else does Lina Romay have in store for us? Oh no. It would seem that Lina, I mean, Alice, has gone swimming with her husband. And you know what that means? She’s gonna eventually have to get out of the pool. Okay, she’s getting out. Holy crap! She’s perfect. Seriously, look at her. She’s a goddess. Get a hold of yourself, man, you’re acting like a real prat.
Yeah, well, it was weird seeing her in a black bikini. Oh, it had nothing to do with the style or the colour of the bikini itself, it was just weird seeing her in clothes, any clothes, for that matter. I guess I’m just going to have to get used to seeing Lina Romay in clothes. Did I mention that I loved way the thin strips of black bikini bottom material seemed to dig into her waist? No? Well, it looks like I just did. The manner in which the skimpy material of her garment dug into her curvy hips was intoxicating, to say the least.
Anyway, Alice’s boss phones her up to tell her that a woman who lives on a nearby island would like to buy an expensive property their selling in Atlantic City. As she ponders interrupting her vacation to make a sale, Alice decides to get some more naked writhing in before making up her mind. It would it seem that her naked writhing and the prospective property buyer are connected. How so? It turns out the woman from her recurring dream, the one that is causing her to writhe so much, is the same woman who wants to purchase the pricy home that is for sale. Entering her dreamworld for the second time, we see Alice walking along the beach. Spotting something in the distance, Alice inches forward to get closer look. It’s Princess Obongo, a.k.a. Tara, and she’s walking two naked slaves, Poppy (Lorna Green) and Tulip (José Ferro), on a leash like they were dogs. Removing them for their leashes, Obongo instructs her slaves to attack Alice in an erotic manner. This, of course, causes Alice to let out one of her trademark screams as Tara laughs maniacally at what she has wrought.
She wakes up just as Tara’s slaves were about to smother her exciting body with a flurry of angry kisses. Oddly turned on by the experience, or maybe she just needed to do something to distract her from the nightmare, Alice decides to orally massage and vaginally commandeer the cock attached to her husband, who is conveniently lying next to her sans pajama bottoms. The fact that Alice’s naked writhing never seems to disturb her husband’s sleep tells me that he’s become used to her tossing and turning over the years. The same can’t said for when Alice wraps her sensuous lips around his soon to be not flaccid penis, as his mind and body quickly return to the land of the wide-awake when the saliva sloshing around inside her pretty mouth begins to sooth the docile agony of his thirsting member.
It turns out that it’s going to take a lot more than engaging in some spontaneous hotel room copulation to shake Tara’s foreboding presence. Making a cameo appearance during their love making, Tara’s face replaces her husband’s face, as Alice, her wonderfully ample backside illuminated by two awkwardly placed bedside lamps, repeatedly pounds her healthy undercarriage against the mound-like monstrosity that was affixed to her husband’s pathetic groin. And the same exact thing happens to her husband, as Alice’s moaning face becomes Tara’s face.
With all her conservative realty clothes hanging in her closet back at home, Alice decides that a pair of fabric-challenged jean shorts, a white top, and a pair of white boots are the way to go when meeting Princess Obongo at her vast estate to discuss business. Hoping on a boat, the sound Tara saying, “Al-leeeeeece” over and over again dominates the proceedings for the next couple of minutes as Jess Franco goes back to picturesque scenery mode.
Try to picture me protesting on shore while holding a sign that reads, “the frayed bits of thread that brush seductively against Lina Romay’s protruding bum flesh while sheathed in jean shorts are the only religion I need” (what can I say? it’s a big sign), and you’ll get a pretty good idea of where my head was at during her boat trip.
Arriving at her hotel, Alice meets Meme (Jess Franco), the hotel’s mildly retarded receptionist. After sizing up her denim-covered crotch and blouse-adjacent cleavage with the intensity of a thousand suns, Meme, taking a much needed break from tweeting with the stuffed reptiles that litter his desk, acts creepy and giggles incessantly for no apparent reason before showing Alice to her room.
It would seem that Jess Franco loves Lina Romay’s exquisite frame just as much as I do. If you need anymore proof of this, check out the scene where Alice lounges naked on a deck chair. The way camera slowly pans up Alice’s frame, stopping occasionally to allow us to sufficiently savour certain key areas for masturbatory and general appreciation purposes, solidified my belief that Jess Franco is obsessed with Lina Romay’s essence. You could just tell by the way his camera seemed to linger on specific points of corporeal interest that his worship for her was genuine. His character even tells her at one point: “You’re simply gorgeous.” Sure, he punctuates the compliment by calling her a slut, but his heart is in the right place.
After engaging in some quick naked writhing, Alice ignores Meme’s dire warning and proceeds to hop aboard a camel to Tara-town. Arriving at Princess Obongo’s estate, her skimpy jean shorts struggling maintain their structural integrity (long ass camel rides are murder on jean shorts), Alice wanders her fortress-like compound with a sense of wonder.
Should I attempt to figure out what was the significance of those ivory carvings Princess Obongo digs out of the sand? Either way, she puts them in her mouth as her slaves Poppy and Tulip lick her jet black nipples. Oh, and in terms of fellating figurines in the desert, Ajita Wilson, an actress who gives new meaning the expression, “black and fabulous,” is a pro. And not only that, she gives severely demented, gender ambiguous voodoo priestesses a good name.
A similar three-tongued oral attack is bestowed upon Alice later on when Princess Obongo and her slaves mock devour her labia and nipples during, what is clearly, some sort of initiation ritual. She may not know it yet, but Alice is slowly starting to fall the spell of Princess Obongo. Running in a naked panic through the sand, Alice comes across Princess Obongo lying on the ground. And I don’t have to tell you what was resting menacingly on her crotch. That’s right, the dead inside out demon chicken from her dream. Is this a dream, or is this reality? Well, whatever it is, my mind is being blown away by this Franco-esque headtrip I’m currently taking. It’s only a matter of time before Alice is told to taste the sacred nectar of Princess Obongo’s quivering slice of post-op pussy candy.
Do you want to know how Lina Romay manages to keep her calves so tantalizingly tight? Of course you do. She accomplishes this by running up and over sand dunes. You see, running on sand puts a lot of added stress on your leg muscles, more so than running on grass or concrete. And judging by the amount of times she stomps through tiny grains of disintegrated rock in this movie, her calves must have been tighter than a kinkajou’s rectum when all was said and done. Running through sand isn’t the only way Lina stays fit in Macumba Sexual, she also manages to work up quite the sweat while writhing in bed (to be a bead of sweat on her sweet ass in the summertime is tantamount to tushy-based transcendence). In other words, if you want your body to look amazing while wearing either cut-off jean shorts or purple hot pants, running on sandy ground and writhing in bed are all you need to do to get the early ’80s Lina Romay body of your dreams.
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