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Girl Slaves of Morgana Le Fay 
A rather large series of horror cinema clichés welcomes the viewer from the very first minutes of this film that marks the debut of Bruno Gantillon a French director soon switched to TV.
A remote village, strange people, cars breaking down in the middle of the night, an uninhabited house, two girls alone in a barn (...) and one of them disappearing. A strange guy who takes the other to a big place, inhabited by strange people.
All seasoned with a style that is very reminiscent of Jean Rollin's. An underlying melancholy, a rather marked slowness in the dialogues and a hand that tries to follow the movements that Rollin would do. There are no vampires. But boobs. Lots of boobs, right from the first images. And perhaps this is the only real reason to see this film, in addition to cinematography which, however, always reminds of Rollin's. I’m afraid to think about the Italian version, with the bad title of "Le diavolesse" (here we can’t see any devils to be clear) ultra-censored. It must have been torture.
Because after removing the boobs, as mentioned, there is very little of interest and very little that can keep the viewer's eyes open.
The story starts from the character of Morgana, the mythological character of the Arthurian narratives. She, who has lesbian, tastes here, lives in a wonderful place surrounded by semi-nude vestals except for a light layer of colourful fabric (there is something lively after all). The poor unfortunate girls who end up there, like the two protagonists, have a choice: to live in seclusion in this fairy world, where they can eat without a pause, have sex for eternity, bowing to the Fata Morgana or ... be tortured and killed, but also live an earthly life in there. So grow old in bondage.
If there was a place for me too, I would have no doubts about what to choose, but there is no room for males and the two for obvious narrative reasons disagree. And if you think that this triggers history, gives us movement, you are wrong. Everything continues to be rather monotonous, between woods, dialogues. And boobs. Until the end.
Gantillon therefore seems to want to enter the world of cinema through the door of the author's, doing things well, in an intellectual and refined way.
The only thing he can do is a spell that bores us to death.