A largely unknown but highly rewarding Euro-Cult gem that transposes the ancient Transylvanian vampire legend into the commercialized industrial age of 1970s Italy; director Farina is perhaps best-known (if at all) for the Carroll Baker-starring adult comic-strip adaptation BABY YAGA (1973) – a film which I was kind of lukewarm on at first glance but would now love to revisit (for the record, I do own the Blue Underground DVD of it). The mostly anonymous cast is headed by distinguished character actor Adolfo Celi (playing the all-powerful tycoon Giovanni Nosferatu) and whose underlings include one Harker, one Van Helsing, etc.!; the hero of the piece is played by Giuliano Disperati (who reminded me of a less handsome version of Hurd Hatfield) and their female counterparts are essayed by Geraldine Hooper (as Celi's androgynous secretary) and red-headed hottie Francesca Modigliani (portraying a bare-breasted hippy who hitches a ride in Disperati's car and stays on). Obviously, Jean-Luc Godard had already paid similar tribute to F.W. Murnau's Silent vampire masterpiece in his own iconic neo-noir/sci-fi opus ALPHAVILLE (1965) by naming the Howard Vernon character as Professor Nosferatu von Braun; the beauty of Farina's – and co-writer/assistant director/editor Giulio Berruti (who would go on to direct the middling nunsploitation/slasher KILLER NUN [1978]) – concept, however, is that (as the film's very title implies) vampires have nowadays changed their faces and instead of sporting bloodied fangs and enveloping cloaks, they don suits, haunt business boardrooms and prey upon millions of gullible TV viewers via puerile (but obviously effective) commercials! The film's initial stages have a deceptively light-hearted air about them: predating the amiable "Fantozzi" comedy series of movies by four years, Disperati cannot believe his luck in being invited to meet the elusive President of the firm he works for (who inhabits the 20th floor on which, apparently, only a handful of people have ever been to); when Disperati is invited to Nosferatu's country house, he is made to listen to commercials whenever he gets to sit on the sofa or take a shower! Even so, the subtle choral music on the soundtrack ominously underscores the sinister air of the rural surroundings – represented by Nosferatu's omnipresent watchdog army of white Fiat 500 which 'accompany' every visitor to the villa. Needless to say, the usual expected elements of vampire movies are also present in the mix here: the crypt housing Nosferatu's decaying coffin; the midnight secret meeting of the Vampire and his acolytes (here made up of, among others, a Renfield-like advertising agent dreading his boss' reaction to his clips and even an ecclesiastical authority who imparts his blessing on the latter's work vis-a-vis censorship issues, etc.). Despite Disperati's apparent shooting of Nosferatu (whose main relaxation activity is taking target practice on moaning puppets!), the eventual climactic defection to the cause – conformism to the consumerist mentality – of both hero and (the sadly largely absent) heroine does not really come as a surprise and concludes the movie on a satisfying ROSEMARY'S BABY-like coda.
