Hellen I like the storyline of this show,it attract me so much

ShangLuda Admirable film.

Lachlan Coulson This is a gorgeous movie made by a gorgeous spirit.

Geraldine The story, direction, characters, and writing/dialogue is akin to taking a tranquilizer shot to the neck, but everything else was so well done.

gridoon2018 If the above summary doesn't make any sense (which it won't unless you've seen "A Fish Called Wanda"), then it's perfectly appropriate for "Venus In Furs". This film confirms Jess Franco's chronic inability (or maybe unwillingness, but I'm betting more on inability) to tell a logical story, and to tie his weird ideas (some of which might have been effective under different circumstances) into a coherent whole. Of course he also has an unerring eye for female beauty, and "Venus In Furs" scores high in that department with Barbara McNair, Maria Rohn and Margaret Lee; however, the long-awaited lesbian scene between the latter two is brief and disappointingly shot in blurry soft-focus. The acting is better than usual for a Franco film, and at times he does get the dreamlike atmosphere he wants right, but at other times the film can get quite boring. As the lead himself admits, "the pieces don't add up". ** out of 4.

mrcaw1 I happened to catch this movie recently on TCM (unedited).Let's cut to the chase folks, it's a bad movie. There's just no getting around it.It's also high camp. Sooooo, my gut says, that a bunch of friends, with plenty of booze at the ready would have a hoot watching this late 60's flick.There's hardly any real dialog in the movie; it's mostly narration by James Darren (the male lead in the film).Why Kluas Kinski even bothered to appear in this movie is beyond me since his role is minuscule. I suspect it was a paycheck & the opportunity to work with undressed ladies.The movie has lots of scenes that are bathed in day-glo colors, lots of female skin and scenes that just won't end.But it is true to it's kitschy self, complete with its supposed shocker ending.Again, if you love kitsch & that whole late 60's early 70's drug/sex LSD trip kind of vibe, you'll probably get a good laugh of this really bad movie.

chaos-rampant As likely to be heralded in certain circles as a preeminent figure of stylish erotic Eurohorror as he is to be dismissed as a hack-of-all-trades and purveyor of Eurotrash, often both at the same time given his gargantuan and largely uneven filmography and depending where your affections lie, Jesus Franco if nothing else at least can't be brushed aside easily. If Oasis of the Zombies gives valid claim to the second, Venus in Furs does the same with the first.A jazz player discovers the body of a woman washed up in a beach in Istanbul. Weirdness ensues. Not really 'meaningful' weird, the kind of weird that suggests a certain insight to be gleaned from closer inspection, but 'captivating' weird, 'hallucinogenic' weird, the kind of weird where you buy the ticket and are happy to be simply swept along for the ride. The movie seems disjointed at first, haphazard, low-key voice-over narration transporting us through time and space back and forth until plot and story cease to exist in any one given level. Yet it doesn't take long for a sort of inner rhythm and flow, jazzlike and hypnotic, to emerge. Suddenly we're in a ritzy party and Klaus Kinski is peering wide-eyed into the camera. The dead woman is now alive, scantily dressed and being flogged in a dimly lit basement by Kinski and two of his friends. From Istanbul to Rio back to Istanbul, the strange woman seems to be exacting some kind of revenge while she keeps a love affair with the horn player on the side.For all the casual languid randomness, Franco seems to know what he's doing. Not narrative speaking so much as in terms of atmosphere and overall ambiance. The camera constantly zooms back and forth, the movie pulsating with a jazz vibrato. Shots from the primary narrative (the actual story) are later repeated inside a flashback (fantasy? reverie?) making the boundaries between present and past tense blur hopelessly, turning the linear into cyclical. Something which is further compounded by the bizarre ending where I think Franco reaches for more than he can grasp and comes up mostly with straws. That combined with the little epigraph superimposed over the screen brings the movie down a notch because it reduces the heady surreal noir that precedes it into a "so it was all..." conclusion. By openly stating what we've been suspecting, that everything exists in someone's head and adheres to the fragmented laws of dreams and memory, Franco robs us of the pleasure of understanding for ourselves.Thirty years down the line Venus in Furs is more likely to appeal to fans of Alain Robbe-Grillet and David Lynch than Eurohorror hounds, the emphasis here being on mysterious rather than grotesque.

Prof-Hieronymos-Grost Jazz musician Jimmy Logan finds the dead body of a beautiful girl Wanda Reed on the beach outside his home in Istanbul, a girl he recognizes from a party he was at the previous night. Jimmy is haunted by her vision and memories of how she was raped and tortured at the party and how he didn't step in to help. Two years later he is now living in Rio and finally has his musical career back on track, but he is stopped in his tracks when a woman who appears to be Wanda walks in to the club where he is playing, is it really her, can she still be alive or is it all a dream. Bizarre, trippy, love story with some Noir overtones, it has a fantastic jazzy score that creates a hypnotic mood, its beautifully filmed with a striking use of colour, touches of sadomasochism and lesbianism add even more to the mix, there's even time for a great twist or two at the end.