The Diabolical Doctor Z

Dr Zimmer, a disciple of the late Dr Orloff, has discovered the physical locations of good and evil in the brain. With his experiments on animals using Z-Rays (whatever they are) he has managed to make a hyena behave like a dog and vice-versa. Now he wants to try his procedures on a human subject – a condemned criminal perhaps. But the medical board, in the shape of Vicas (Howard Vernon), Moroni and Kallman – are appalled and reject the request out of hand. The shock is too great for the old man, who suffers a massive siezure and dies on the spot.

Zimmer's daughter, Irma (Mabel Karr), vows to avenge her father. After faking her own death – murdering a hitch-hiker in the process – she abducts a beautiful dancer, Nadia (Estella Blain), and uses Zimmer's mind-control machine. Caparaisoned with long, sharp, poisoned fingernails, a reluctant Nadia is dispatched to assassinate Vicas, Moroni and Kallman…

Probably the most accomplished of Jesus Franco's early black and white films, The Diabolical Doctor Z is conventional enough to be accessible to the novitiate viewer weaned on the likes of Lang's Dr Mabuse series yet also distinctive and personal enough to be unmistakably the work of its auteur.

The sole weak spot is an almost throwaway plot strand, clearly intended as a nod to Franju's Eyes Without A Face that sees Irma accidentally burn her face, only to then make it as good as new with a spot of self-administered reconstructive surgery within a matter of hours.

Franco's camera is at its most fluid and expressive, combining elegant tracking shots and effective hand-held sequences with imaginative set-ups and angles. You can see that he's looking for the best way to do it, not just the most economical (as with the colour remake, She Killed in Ecstasy).

The cinematography, lighting and production design combine to create a marvellous Expressionist mood, exemplified by the vertiginous, eye-like, shots of the spiral stairs in Irma's castle; the pursuit of Moroni through the foggy, shadowy streets, and a The Lady from Shanghai inspired mirror sequence in a deserted theatre.

Other set-piece stand-outs include the encounter between Nadia and Vicas on the train and – of course – Nadia's floor show, which manages to raise a frisson of kinkiness and perversity while still remaining tasteful and artful enough to offend no-one.

The director also has his customary comic relief cameo, playing an investigator whose infant triplets are keeping him awake all night. Composer Daniel White – whose cheese-free score mixes suspenseful percussive music concrete style and mournful jazz pieces that enhance the mood to great effect – plays a Scotland Yard man on a working holiday.

Picture quality on this Region 0 NTSC DVD from Mondo Macabro's US arm is wonderful. Presented in the original 1.66:1 aspect ratio, it has great clarity and contrast with virtually no scratches or damage present.

Audio-wise there is a choice of English and French language tracks, with optional English subtitles. (There's a moment early on the English track when the dialogue slips into French with embedded English subs – a slight annoyance, but nothing to really hold against the disc.)

The most substantial extra on the disc is a revamped version of the Mondo Macabro TV programme on Franco, running some 15 minutes. The contributions from the director himself, Monica Swinn, Brigitte Lahaie and others are presented intact but clips from films other than Dr Z have been edited out, likely on account of licensing issues. There's nothing here that the serious Franco fan won't already know, but it's a welcome inclusion nonetheless, providing a comprehensive and well put together introduction to the man and his films.

Other extras include the English language titles (which begin with the Zimmers arriving at the medical conference and thus miss the film's best in joke – "It's Bresson. A condemned murderer has escaped"); the US trailer; extensive stills and artwork galleries; and well-written mini-biographies of Franco, Blain, Vernon and White.

That The Diabolical Doctor Z is a must buy disc for the Franco enthusiast goes without saying, while non-fans may just find it to be the disc to converts them.