Original subtitles

After my father's death in 1968, I started working as an AD.

Franco Giraldi gave me my first job.

After that, I worked with Mauro Bolognini,

Luchino Visconti, Federico Fellini, Francesco Massaro,

Valerio Zurlini, and even Paul Morrissey and Andy Warhol,

whom I've worked with on two films.

Working on those gave me some happy vibes.

They were rather bizarre, and I actually thought of them as comedies.

They weren't, as a matter of fact.

I was involved by production manager Mara Blasetti,

and that also was my first and only meeting with Carlo Ponti,

who had this studio near the Capitoline Hill.

His office was at the end of a long hallway,

and he was always sitting behind this huge desk.

During my career I only felt impressed by two desks,

Ponti's and Goffredo Lombardo's.

I believe their offices were arranged in such a grandiose way to intimidate people.

Anyway, they said they needed a name AD,

and I didn't consider myself to be well-known at all.

I loved Paul Morrissey's TRASH,

so I was obviously eager to work with him.

By the way, I kind of regret having never asked

Andy Warhol for a sketch or something.

He'd have gladly said yes, I'm sure.

We had a chill relationship.

They were living in Frascati and lazily complied with the daily shooting demands.

Me and Mara Blasetti frantically worked to deliver the finished film on time.

We only had a few weeks.

I kept asking what I could do to get ahead with the work,

and they said I could start shooting any scene I wanted.

That was pretty vague, as vague as the actual screenplay.

They basically gave me the gist of the scenes to do day after day.

I still didn't know where to begin,

to which they simply replied to start wherever a camera was available.

What started as fun became a nightmare when dealing with the Roman grips,

who kept moving the camera around every day.

That's one of the reasons why bits of most scenes

have that weird look to them.

In the end, we managed to deliver.

I felt a little sad after working on these two films,

because it was such a privilege to work as an AD for Paul Morrissey and Andy Warhol.

I don't remember the exact details,

but there was some serious legal issue involving production.

That's why Antonio Margheriti had to be credited as the director.

I mean, he was an excellent professional,

but not as famous as the other two, whose names I was eager to put on my resume!

Well, after all, I don't feel my name would ever deserve

to be put next to those two artists.

Neither Warhol nor Morrissey had ever heard of me,

and we didn't have that much of a relationship during the making of the film.

They liked my work approach and were as kind as could be,

but it was a strictly professional relationship.

They never complained about me so I guess they liked my work.

They were both very reserved individuals.

They were always calm and willing to work together to get out of any impasse.

I felt really committed to BLOOD FOR DRACULA.

I always took my job seriously,

but even more than usual for that movie.

Morrissey and Warhol led a very reserved lifestyle.

At the end of every shooting day,

they'd get in their car and return to their villa in Frascati.

What I'd have given to get to know them more.

I mean, of course we also exchanged a few pleasantries,

but nothing deeper than that.

Well, Joe Dallesandro kinda embodied the idea of somebody's protege.

It wasn't his fault, though, it was more due to Italian provincialism.

He was a handsome kid, without a doubt.

I remember he'd already given a good acting performance in another film.

I considered him a good actor.

Too bad his role in BLOOD FOR DRACULA was more physical than anything else.

Stefania Casini would definitely give you a better answer, I believe.

It's been many years since the film, I wonder how he's faring now.

Oh, I remember this bit.

It's the triumph of the proletariat over the corrupt Bourgeoisie.

By the way, we were all horrible chauvinists back then.

Joe Dallesandro had a good number of naked scenes,

and he showed off his private bits pretty nonchalantly.

"Thick Dick," that's what we used to call him.

"Here comes Thick Dick," I would joke with the grips.

Jeez, we were terrible.

Udo Kier was the quintessential German.

He wasn't the friendliest guy around, to be honest.

Both Joe Dallesandro and Stefania Casini were much more amiable.

You could feel the condescension with Kier.

I wasn't involved with BLOOD FOR DRACULA because I knew about vampires, of course.

Both films were done almost simultaneously.

They weren't considered two separate projects.

It was a two for one, to put it bluntly.

I don't remember which one came out first, DRACULA or FRANKENSTEIN.

Long story short, I don't know why I was chosen to work on the DRACULA.

After all, I don't even have a vampire look!

I loved literature,

but obviously neither Ponti nor Mara Blasetti,

nor Warhol or Morrissey could have known that.

Besides, I wasn't much of a fan of horror literature.

I liked Lovecraft, though, as well as Poe.

They both had a great effect on me at the time.

Both films came out in the early 1970s, when I was still in my twenties.

Wait, I think I was actually twenty, allow me to do some quick math.

I was born in 1945, so I was almost approaching thirty.

That was the only time I worked with Vittorio De Sica.

He basically directed himself. I was absolutely in awe of him.

And he had this jovial tone and gentlemanly manners,

which simultaneously put you at ease but also made you realize how reserved he was.

It was a lovely meeting, still a cherished memory.

I have more memories of Roman Polanski.

There was more of a feeling of camaraderie with him.

By the way, he was constantly attempting to speak Italian,

and that's also what made him appear so likeable.

Another master of cinema, indeed.

The location was truly magical.

I didn't understand how anyone could abandon such a beautiful place.

For my first film as a director,

not counting the documentary I'd made before that,

I decided to go back to that location, such was the impact it had on me.

The difference was that the first time there was still some furniture left,

whereas in 1977, the year I made my film,

the villa was completely empty.

Still looking gorgeous, but empty nonetheless.

I guess the owners decided to sell everything.

Luigi Kuveiller was a great friend of mine.

We'd already worked together.

I think it was for a film directed by Francesco Massaro, but I could be wrong.

The fact is we'd already worked together.

These old DOPs, who were actually slightly older than I was,

were always very kind to rne since they knew my father, who was a director.

They were almost like family.

Me and Luigi shared a wonderful professional relationship.

All beautiful actresses, indeed, although I don't remember much about Dominique Darel.

The reason I remember the others is because they all had careers outside this film.

Milena Vukotic, for instance, made a name for herself in Italian style comedies.

Stefania Casini also worked as a director.

With good results, too.

She was beautiful at the time, and maybe I envied Joe Dallesandro a little.

Oh, boy, don't get me started on Italian titles.

There's so many world cinema masterpieces that got such dumb titles here.

Stupid titles for often fantastic movies.

I can't think of any specific examples right now.

With a little thought I could give you dozens.

DRACULA IS SEARCHING FOR VIRGINS' BLOOD... AND HE DIED OF THIRST. Give me a break!

Seriously, who came up with that?

I don't think it was Ponti, probably the distribution company.

I'm really glad to be here, getting interviewed

about those films that are still popular today.

You know, to me it means that something I did,

or in this case contributed to, has not vanished forever.

Nothing disappears. It might take years,

but things always come back one way or another.

One should always think of that possibility while making something.

And even if what an individual does disappears forever, that's life.