sumuru

No matter which particular "Bond" is your favorite, a good villain is essential. Ernst Blofeld and Auric Goldfinger are just as responsible for making their respective films memorable as 007...while duds like Hugo Drax and Eliot Carver don't even merit a mention. So producer Harry Alan Towers was on the right track when he elevated Sumuru to leading lady status in a pair of Bond rip-offs based instead on the writing of Sax Rohmer, better known for creating the now-politically incorrect master criminal Fu Manchu.

A classic case of feminism run wild, Sumuru (played by Shirley Eaton, Goldfinger's first painted victim) has assembled an army of sexy sleeper agents at her command. And we're not just talking about making sure the toilet seat stays down, this femme fatale commits acts of terrorism with the goal of conquering the known world in the name of women everywhere! Rohmer crafted five books in the Sumuru series; Towers managed to eke out two films - The Million Eyes of Sumuru and The Girl From Rio - which will appeal to drastically different audiences despite appearing on the same double-feature disc from Blue Underground.

1967's The Million Eyes of Sumuru is an eager, playful companion piece to Ian Fleming's superspy series, casting Robot Monster's George Nader in the lead role as the suavely sarcastic CIA spook Nick West and none other than Frankie Avalon(!) as his playboy partner. Their mission, foisted upon them by British Intelligence, is to protect a clueless dictator (Klaus Kinski) from the evil attention of Sumuru who plans to influence world leaders by putting their wives and mistresses high up in the chain of command.

Sumuru is an unapologetic bit of sexist escapism that should offend nearly everyone's sensibilities. But like Fox's spoof In Like Flint, the film beats critics to the punch by mocking the spy genre and all its then-expected chauvinist trademarks. In that respect, Tower's film is a slam-dunk with Sumuru cuddling up to seduce our hero who comes back with the rejoinder, "Honey, I had better in high school." At times the film eve reaches Airplane levels of meta-comedy, especially with the casting of Avalon who at one point turns to the camera and asks, "Is there where I'm supposed to start singing?"

However, Tower's greatest notoriety (or is it infamy) as a producer came after he hitched his wagon to director Jess Franco, who took over the reigns on Sumuru's unofficial sequel: The Girl from Rio (1969). All literary merit is abandoned this time around as the duo loses the comedy and embraces Franco's particularly virulent strain of ineptly enjoyable exploitation.

Translation? They bring out the boobs.

Eaton returns - albeit in briefly - as the leader of Femina, a city of heavily armed women in short skirts hidden away in the hills of Brazil. The plot itself doesn't matter much as Franco is prone to lengthy out-of-focus interludes and camera zooms but he knows a money shot when he sees one. Leading man Richard Wyler is a poor man’s 007 who’s mastered the smirk but not the suave charm. The classy George Sanders (Village of the Damned) brings some distinct personality to the film as a scheming capitalist with a sense of humor.

And point in fact, the film is quite funny, just not intentionally so. Victims are tortured with plastic fans and vicious neck nuzzling, judo chops fall about a foot short of impact and the destruction of Femina (accomplished with two helicopters and a handful of smoke grenades) is a masterpiece of bad moviemaking. But at least Franco manages to keep his camera above the waist more than usual this time.

That said, BU's new hi-def presentation of Rio is really something to see. And since it comes packaged with Sumuru, which has been next to impossible to see outside of its appearance on Mystery Science Theater 3000, Franco-philes should be pre-ordering like their worthless Y-chromosomes depended on it! Extras include Rolling in Rio, with interviews from Franco, Towers and Shirley Eaton, plus trailers and a poster / still gallery.