Ilsa, Wicked Warden (1977)
Starring: Dyanne Thorne, Lina Romay, Howard Maurer
Director: Jess Franco
Synopsis: a fake rip-off serenading as an Ilsa due to Dyanne Thorne's presence
Reviewed by: Omar Khan

No point beating about the bush—this is an atrocious film.

Its greatest offence is not that it is sleazy or exploitative, but that it masquerades as an Ilsa film when, in reality, it has virtually nothing to do with Don Edmonds' notorious trilogy beyond the presence of Dyanne Thorne.

Thorne returns in what is essentially a cheap imitation of her legendary Ilsa persona, only stripped of almost everything that made the original character so entertaining. Gone is the imperious Nazi commandant with the unmistakable German accent. Instead, she appears as Greta, the sadistic governor of a women's prison, speaking in an accent that seems to owe rather more to Count Dracula than Berlin.

The deception was deliberate.

Jess Franco, never one to ignore a commercial opportunity, clearly hoped to cash in on the popularity of the Ilsa films by presenting this exploitation effort as though it belonged to the same series.

It doesn't.

The setting is a prison where Greta conducts bizarre "treatments" designed to cure sexual deviance. As one might expect from Franco, there is an abundance of nudity and no shortage of scenes intended purely to shock. Prisoners are subjected to grotesque punishments, sadistic experiments and various forms of sexual humiliation, all photographed in lingering close-up.

Ironically, despite trying so desperately to outdo the earlier Ilsa films in terms of sleaze, the film rarely feels as outrageous.

What made the genuine Ilsa pictures so perversely entertaining was their unmistakable sense of camp. However tasteless they became, there was always the feeling that everyone involved understood just how ludicrous the material really was. Dyanne Thorne, in particular, attacked the role with enormous enthusiasm, turning Ilsa into one of exploitation cinema's most memorable villains.

That mischievous spirit is almost entirely absent here.

The violence is presented with a straight face, the supporting cast generates little interest, and none of the performers appears to be enjoying themselves. The result is simply unpleasant rather than entertaining.

Dyanne Thorne does her best with what little she has been given, but the role is a pale imitation of the character that made her famous. It is difficult not to feel that both she and the audience deserved considerably better.

Ultimately, this is little more than a cynical attempt to trade upon the notoriety of the Ilsa name.

Even devotees of gloriously disreputable exploitation cinema are likely to find precious little here beyond the curiosity of seeing Dyanne Thorne sporting yet another wonderfully improbable accent.

It is an uninspired piece of Grade-A schlock and a very poor relation indeed to the gleeful camp insanity of Don Edmonds' original Ilsa films.

This fake Ilsa is best avoided altogether.