FEATURING: James Darren, Maria Rohm, Barbara McNair, Klaus Kinski
PLOT: A trumpet player becomes obsessed with a woman after witnessing her murder and finding her body washed up on the beach, then watches as she comes back to avenge her death.
WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHA:Venus in Furs is at least twice as surreal as Hitchcock’s Vertigo, while telling a similar story of a man obsessing over a woman who might be anything from a dead ringer for the deceased to a ghost to a tulpa. On top of that, it gets way freakier between the sheets than most giallos, and tops itself off with psychedelic audio and visuals like the Summer of Love never died. All that, and it also has piss-all to do with the novel.
COMMENTS: Hang onto your lids, folks, because you’re in for a surprise. More than likely you came to Venus in Furs, as did I, expecting a hedonistic wallow in the giallo end of the Eurosmut pool. After all, this is Jess Franco making an erotic thriller with the same name as the 1870 novel whose author, Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, gave masochism its name. With those credentials, you would expect a kinky, sex-crazed fetish festival that would make The Story of O look like a high school prom episode of the “Brady Bunch.” At least that’s what I’d expect, having first discovered Franco via the gory Bloody Moon (1981) and working through his horror pieces from there. What, nobody gets their brain buzzsawed this time? Awwww…
Color me surprised to find what has to be one of the tamest movies in Franco’s catalog—and also a class act that deserves to be better known. There’s little full nudity until act three, and even the topless shots are sparse, while gore is barely whispered. There is no particularly graphic cuffs-and-whips action going on. In fact, it’s hard to tell what the hell is going on at all, since the entire movie is told in random scenes shuffling through flashbacks, dreams, and memories. Franco (who also wrote the screenplay) throws away everything of Leo’s novel but the name of one of the characters and the title. Like many of our favorite surreal movies here, the plot’s open to interpretation, including the possibility of a circular narrative.
Bear with me while I piece this thing together. Jimmy (Darren), a jazz trumpet player, plays a gig where he witnesses Wanda (Rohm) murdered by what seems to be a group of aristocrats led by Kinski in what appears to be a snuff party. Jimmy flashes back to these events when he finds Wanda’s knife-scarred body washed ashore on the beach. He then wanders off in a fugue state to Rio during Mardi Gras (note to directors: please set more movies here), where the same woman returns, alive and well. The (ghost? zombie? vampire?) Wanda seduces Jimmy and stalks each of her murderers one by one,
PLOT: Most of the cast and crew of The Rocky Horror Picture Show gather to re-tell their experiences making the landmark cult classic that became the ultimate midnight movie.
COMMENTS: It isn’t enough just to call The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) a “cult movie,” because it is the first movie to attract a cult at all. As fan after fan raves, it’s not just a movie, it’s an event, a lifestyle, an anthem uniting all us rainbow freaks into the collection of beautiful cosmic blueberries we are. For the 50th anniversary of this phenomenon, Strange Journey (2025) reunites most of the major cast and production team to tell how this movie came to be.
The documentary is everything you’d expect. The producers spared no effort in tracking down everybody for a chat. Although sadly missing rock legend Meatloaf (RIP 2022), we still get sit-down interviews with Tim Curry, Susan Sarandon, Bary Bostwick, Patricia Quinn, and even the rarely-appearing Peter Hinwood. Most prominently, we get Rocky creator and Riff-Raff himself, Richard O’Brien, giving us the complete story of how the story came to be: from its inception as a stage play to creation of the film, its initial flop release, and its subsequent discovery as a cult hit. We even get O’Brien on acoustic guitar singing the hits from the show as he originally composed them.
The documentary is well-produced, with a nice flow alternating interviews and voice-overs with montages of photos and theater review clippings. The fandom gets its say as well, including veteran “shadow cast” performers speaking about how the cult around Rocky allowed them to live out their dreams as their out-of-the-closet selves. Jack Black provides cultural commentary. I don’t even question Jack Black appearing in anything anymore; he’s a free-range media personality who’s attracted to the smell of any camera.
Your humble author was a tad young to catch The Rocky Horror Picture Show when it first came out, but I still heard about it. Over the years, a steady trickle of friends and acquaintances turned up saying they’d caught the show at some midnight campus event. I ended up with a cassette tape of the soundtrack before I ever saw the movie. As soon as I saw it, I got it immediately. The 1970s were a decade of hard-fought social issues, and a time when Americans were maddeningly obsessed with everybody else’s peepees and what they were doing with them. Rocky hit at the exact crest of a wave of social change, throwing off the persecution of alternate lifestyles and expression and wrapping sexual rebellion up in a tribute to rock ‘n’ roll and vintage horror. It was destined to be a hit, because this movie urgently needed to be made at that time.
Naturally, any Rocky fan worth their feather boa needs to run right out and see this doc. So should cultural historians, and for that matter, rock music fans, because Rocky is the singularity around which all things cool revolve.
Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror can now be rented on Plex, Apple TV, or Google Play, and a Blu-ray release drops on July 7, 2026.
Plot: A tightly wound, obsessive, repressed lawyer meets a meek, neurotic typist who suffers from low self esteem and a compulsion to cut herself.
COMMENTS: Let it never be said that 366 Weird Movies turns its back on plain old love stories. We treasure lopsided romances such as Harold and Maude, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It goes to show, you can still have a weird movie even if it’s just a boy-meets-girl story. This time around we have more of a “boy beats girl” scenario, and that becomes our weird angle. The only reason not to recommend this movie for the Apocrypha is because everything weird about it is done even weirder in other movies. Secretary (2002) stands alone as a truly frank examination of the phenomenon of kink relationships, the one which even the self-identifying “leather community” points to as the movie that gets BDSM relationships closest to right. That, in itself, is an incredible rarity—but it should be less rare.
It’s not like we get into the floggers and spreader bars right away. It’s a slow-burn progress, starting with Lee Holloway (Maggie Gyllenhaal) being released from a mental institution. She attempts to re-adjust to normal life, hampered by a dysfunctional family including an overpowering mother and by her own neuroses that manifest in a compulsion to secretly cut and stab herself. Lee is mousy and anxious, seeming like she’d shatter at a harsh word, and usually far too intimidated to express herself. She applies for a job in the title profession, at the law office of one E. Edward Grey (James Spader, eight years before the Fifty Shades of Grey books came out). Grey is a demanding and controlling boss, so much so that he apparently needs a custom-made sign to advertise for help. Lee gets the job, since Grey assures her that it’s dull work and Lee responds that she sincerely likes dull work.
Soon their dynamic spins off-center from standard employer-employee. Grey is a stickler for detail who takes special delight in catching every typo in Lee’s work, amassing a collection of red markers for highlighting flaws and lining them up on his desk in OCD fashion. One day while rummaging around the office he discovers Lee’s secret box of self-harm toys and confronts her about it. When he paternally orders her never to engage in such behavior again, the two start to show some magnetism. She is more drawn to him with every new demand he makes and every scolding he gives her, while he is spellbound by her unquestioning obedience to his every whim. It’s obvious that neither of these people ever expected to encounter anyone quite like the other. Finally the tension breaks when Grey gambles on smacking Lee on the rear while she hunches over a desk proofreading, and Lee—instead of running off to file a sexual harassment lawsuit—is totally cool with it. Once the lid is off this boiling pot of kinky sexual tension, the two enter an awkward dance, escalating games of domination and submission, and alternately retreating in fright from their mutually acknowledged dark sides.
Some of their play is point-blank role-playing, such as when he dictates that she take her dinner in tiny portions, while more involved games have her prancing about the office in restrictive bondage gear with a spreader bar holding her arms out like a cross, still handling her secretarial work. Even sillier scenes flash by in montage, most notably Lee on a desk on her hands and knees saddled like a pony. Eventually Grey suffers a classic case of “top drop,” the point where every out-of-the-closet sadist asks themselves for the first time “what kinda sick monster enjoys this?” Even though he tries to break things off, Lee is single-minded. She is deaf to the pleas of her vanilla boyfriend on the sidelines, a sweetheart of a guy who nevertheless just can’t handle Lee with the firm hand she seeks. Will our star-crossed lovers ever be able to relax and enjoy their attraction without judging it?
The amazing thing about Secretary is the poise and balance it maintains while deconstructing a taboo relationship between two little-understood personalities. This could easily have been gross-out schlock, seedy porn, or silly camp, but the characters themselves are treated with dignity, and the relationship is presented as a positive thing for them. The humor is gentle and cherishes the human, flaws and all. As two ostracized, repressed weirdos both attracted and repelled by this energy between them, Gyllenhaal and Spader are downright cute and fun to watch. Finally, we viewers have to accept that, while this relationship wouldn’t work for most of us, it works for these two, and more power to them. As Woody Allen observed in Annie Hall, “we need the eggs.” Secretary may not be the weirdest depiction of the leather lover in the wild, but it is likely to be the most respectful and heart-warming one for many decades yet.
Lee Holloway is a smart, quirky woman in her twenties who returns to her hometown in Florida after a brief stay in a mental hospital. In search of relief from herself and her oppressive childhood environment, she starts to date a nerdy friend from high school and takes a job as a secretary in a local law firm, soon developing an obsessive crush on her older boss, Mr Grey. Through their increasing
This 2017 survey says “40% of your fellow Americans identify as kinky,” with 25% citing a specific fetish
This nationwide survey says “over 36% of Americans identify as having a specific kink or fetish and over 27% of Americans in a relationship have a sex act in mind that they want to introduce to their partner, but haven’t”
This 2026 Fast Company article claims “nearly half of people practice kink, but nontraditional sex still carries a strong stigma”
The Fifty Shades of Grey book trilogy, a romance series with a BDSM focus (albeit a blind and clueless depiction of the lifestyle), had sold over 150 million copies worldwide by October 2017. Its film adaptation raked in $569 million on a $40 million budget.
The success of Fifty Shades, printed upon trees tragically killed for the purpose, exposed something very odd in our culture. Apparently a lot more people than we’d imagined were starving for kink smut.
You don’t hear about kink relationships every day. You do hear about LGBTQ+ relationships. A 2025 Gallop poll says 9.3% of Americans identify as LGBTQ+. That’s the whole rainbow flag there, trans and non-binary and genderqueer and all.
It’s amazing how much time we spend fighting a worthless culture war about less than a tenth of the population. I look forward to the day of pansexual acceptance. Not because I’m a bleeding-heart liberal; I just want the dumb war over. People like different things, let’s get over it.
With that said: Go to the back of the gender spectrum closet and knock at the hidden door there, and you’ll find the BDSM closet. Gays and lesbians fight to have their lifestyle normalized, but the scary, kinky people have still years to go before they can glimpse sunlight—even though the overwhelming majority of the kinksters are straight. It’s equally amazing how at least a third of the population partakes of the exotic thrills of sadomasochism, and yet it’s an even bigger taboo to talk about.
I love taboos. They’re like sore pressure points you can lean on just a little and make everybody squirm. Sure, we’ve made some progress in pansexual acceptance, but the fact that we can’t handle a simple fetish without ridiculing it (or eroticizing it) shows we have a way to go, even as moral crusaders blow their big bazoos about men holding hands in public, before returning to their Fifty Shades copy dog-eared to the part where Christian pees on Anastasia.
Isn’t that weird in and of itself? It got me wondering, since the BDSM people mobilize for kink-lifestyle acceptance on Fetlife and have their own pride flag and everything, where is the normalized depiction of a dominant/submissive relationship in media? My quest for such a film is documented in my Medium essay “BDSM in Mainstream Cinema | Will Kink Ever Get Any Respect?”
There, Secretary (2002) wins my award for “most down-to-earth depiction of power exchange relationships.” A runner-up happens to be a weirdie reviewed here as well, The Duke of Burgundy. Yes, as bizarre as that film is, it’s still a pretty even-handed depiction of a domestic role-playing household, and a lesbian one at that—two alternative lifestyles for the price of one!
So now I might as well finish my quest and review the other half of the BDSM-genre films, the highly abnormal depictions. The weirdest possible, of course. I’ll document my thoughts here, and we’ll re-huddle at the end to inventory our new insights into the freakiest, most broken, most perverted, most inhibited species on Earth: people.
Join me on my safari into the weird Leather Underground!
PLOT: A Vietnam veteran heroin addict gets hustled into a scheme where his aging ex-actress mother will be a test subject of Dr. Gruder, who promises to reverse aging with some highly unconventional treatments.
COMMENTS: Dominic Fontaine (Jake Horowitz) is a Vietnam veteran now residing in 1970s southern California, and he’s got a few problems. He’s down on his luck, caring for an aging mother, has a heroin addiction, and owes money to mobsters who regularly deliver a few kicks to his ribs to urge him to speed up his payment plan. That convergence of obstacles drives him through the lobby doors of the Gruder Institute and right into the care of one Dr. Gruder (Crispin Glover), with a stop to meet flirty intake nurse Ellie Bannister (Lucy Loken), who takes Dominic’s blood and signs him up for methadone treatments. Luckily, indie audiences are already familiar with heroin recovery practices thanks to Trainspotting. But A Blind Bargain is a quite different movie, where the drug addiction takes a back seat to the other kinds of weirdness going on. (It is also the second movie I can think of, after Naked Lunch, where bugs and drugs fit into the same plot.)
Turns out that analysis of Dominic’s sample shows that his mother’s blood would be valuable for research—valuable enough that the Gruder Institute offers $500 per pint (in 1980 dollars). Dominic’s mom, Joy (veteran actress Amy Wright), who thinks she’s going for spa treatments, happens to be a has-been actress who yearns for her old silent film days. She’s an easy sell for a treatment that restores her youth. From this set-up, we advance into an unpredictable labyrinth of character interactions and a typically gothic mad scientist story.
I should mention that A Blind Bargain is an attempt at remaking / reclaiming an infamously lost film of the same title, released in 1922 as a silent feature starring Lon Chaney. Since I haven’t seen the original (and likely never will without a time machine), I can’t comment to how much of this is faithful to the original script and how much is invented this time around.
For weird movie fans, Glover alone could be enough of a reason to see it; he invests every line and gesture with his unique eccentricity like the master character actor he is. Jake Horowitz is notable as well; infinitely watchable with his steely blue eyes and Zig-Zag-man beard, he plays a convincingly desperate sad-sack without making him a sniveling wimp or a conniving scoundrel. Amy Wright came all the way from Synecdoche, New York to show she can still act circles around the best of them. The early pacing is perfect, with a tempo that takes just enough time with each scene to let us absorb the plot, such that you’re carried right past the odder scenes before you can ask too many questions. The editing, between eccentric old-school screen wipes and music that punctuates the playful quirkiness, hints that we’re in that humor-horror canyon where the movie can make a little fun of itself.
That said, despite a few drug-inspired hallucinations and some impressively off-kilter lines and even dashes of magical realism, the story never ramps up into truly weird territory. I sat waiting for a big shock, an alarming gross-out, a horrifying revelation, but all I got were mildly unexpected moments. The ending is upon us before we’ve quite digested act three, and a great deal is left unexplained, especially romantic tensions that suddenly pop up between several characters. Mad science and body horror are frequent topics in our archives, with many movies that quaff a bigger shot of madness than this one does. Be that as it may, this film seems to be everything its creators intended. A Blind Bargain is comfort quirkiness for the film festival crowd, lovingly made with a zesty pace and a dedication to freaky medical practitioners everywhere.
A Blind Bargain is in limited release at the time of this review. We’ll let you know when it’s widely available.