Two teen girls are blind orphans by day. At night they regain their eye sight for hunting. They are apparently frequently killed and part of the film is flashbacks to previous lives, the first of which was extremely boring with no dialouge, just music. They are adopted by a rich elderly doctor.

The girls wear Catholic girl outfits, frolic in the graveyard, and even partake in dog's blood. In one scene they dare each other to stand naked outside their adopted father's window. They believe they were once ancient Aztec/Inca goddesses. The dialouge is culturally odd in the translation as the girls are described as "so sweet, so pure, just like the sisters of baby Jesus." Another bit was "all gods are real because they are imaginary."

The movie was artsy and not a real horror style vampire film. As an art film, I failed to grasp the message.

Lame sound track. No f-bombs, no sex, some nudity. Neither erotic or scary.

French cult filmmaker Jean Rollin again explores some familiar themes in this effort from his latter days. The two title characters are girls played by Alexandra Pic and Isabelle Teboul. People think that they are blind, and they cannot in fact see during the daytime, but they see everything in shades of blue during the night. They bemoan the fact that they are doomed to an endless cycle of new "lives" and imminent "death", while putting the bite on various unlucky French citizens. Although a kindly eye doctor (Bernard Charnace) adopts them, they don't want to let a change of scenery keep them from their usual habits.

Adapted by Rollin from a series of novels he had written, this understandably comes as a disappointment to fans of his highly erotic (and superior) 1970s output. This is more tame due to the ages of his two leads, and yet it still does have some sex appeal, and much of the atmosphere that is inherent in his work. It's haunting, with a lovely score by Philippe D'Aram, and has a fairly amusing script wherein the girls equate themselves with Aztec goddesses (since they see themselves as not being truly immortal). The supporting cast is good, including such performers as Natalie Perrey (also the script supervisor) as Sister Martha, Gudule as the Mother Superior, Nada Le Hoangan as the sickly Virginia, and the stunning Veronique Djaouti as the "She-Wolf". In quick cameos we see Rollin favourite Brigitte Lahaie and the great Tina Aumont as a "ghoul".

Pic and Teboul do a good job of maintaining some viewer interest, even as the film goes on quite a long time and meanders a bit. Even as they're willing to do evil things, their childish playfulness prevents them from being completely disagreeable. And their devotion to each other holds firm, all the way to the conclusion that is as haunting as the majority of the film.

Overall, "Two Orphan Vampires" is a good, if not great, Rollin film.

Seven out of 10.

Now *this* is the film that separates the men from the boys. If it's in-yer-face sex and horror you want; then I suggest you bugger off now, because Jean Rollin has concocted something very very different... And are you man enough to take it?

Rollin's filmic obsession with vampires- and let's face it, with erotic young women- has never looked this beautiful. Like many films to come out of Europe, this eschews huge action and movement in favour of stillness and thought. It's beautiful to look at, and within the frame Rollin has trapped a whole other world- a vivid, colourful world of rich tones and contrasts, waif-like vampires and deep brown earth. Like some kind of comfortable dream on a hot Summer's evening, 'Two Orphan Vampires' slides from plot point to plot point at its own leisure. At times there's not a lot going on; but there's always something to look at.

Perhaps the most astonishing thing about the film, is the way in which Rollin makes the tiny budget work to his advantage. We meet a vampire queen, a ghoul and a werewolf. But we are only *told* this is what they are- they appear outwardly 'normal'... and although it's a cliche to say 'our imaginations do the rest', here it is so true. Late in the film there is a scene in which one of the characters explains some of her past; stuff that Hollywood would salivate over. Rollin has her hunched over a table and s-l-o-w-l-y tracks the camera towards her. No fuss, no noise, no elaborately staged flash-backs and set-pieces. Stillness. Quiet. And an otherworldliness that will leave you changed. It's like looking at a painting that illustrates a poem you strongly admire, and finding the artist has got it just 'right'. 'Two Orphan Vampires' is a tribute to the enduring presence of Jean Rollin- a writer/director of integrity, vision and wit.

Steev