When you dive into the murky waters of 1970s European exploitation cinema, you eventually hit a wall. Or rather, a convent wall. Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun movie (originally titled Die Liebesbriefe einer portugiesischen Nonne) is a 1977 release that remains one of the most polarizing entries in the "nunsploitation" subgenre. It's weird. It’s uncomfortable. It’s visually striking in a way that most low-budget sleaze from that era simply isn't. Directed by the prolific and often controversial Jesús "Jess" Franco, the film attempts to marry high-brow literary origins with the low-brow demands of the grindhouse circuit.
The result is a fever dream.
You’ve got Anita Ekberg—yes, the same Ekberg from Fellini’s La Dolce Vita—playing a stern Mother Superior. That alone should tell you this isn't your standard bargain-bin flick. The movie is loosely, and I mean very loosely, based on the 17th-century epistolary novel Letters of a Portuguese Nun. While the book is a masterpiece of emotional suffering, the movie leans heavily into the Inquisition, demonic pacts, and the kind of stylized eroticism that only Franco could dream up on a shoestring budget.
What Actually Happens in the Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun Movie?
The plot follows Maria, a young woman played by Susan Hemingway, who is forced into a convent. This isn't exactly a peaceful retreat. She quickly finds herself caught between her own burgeoning desires and a corrupt ecclesiastical system. The 1970s was a decade obsessed with deconstructing religious authority through cinema, and Franco takes this to the extreme.
Maria is manipulated by a priest, Father Vicente, who is less interested in her soul and more interested in her "confessions." The film weaves in elements of the occult, implying that the convent is less a house of God and more a playground for the Grand Inquisitor’s sadistic whims. It's a bleak setup. Honestly, the pacing is a bit of a slog if you aren't used to European art-house editing, but the atmosphere is thick enough to choke on.
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The Jess Franco Aesthetic
Franco was a madman. He directed over 200 films. Because he worked so fast, his movies often feel unfinished or disjointed. However, in this specific film, his use of zoom lenses and Dutch angles actually works to convey Maria’s mounting hysteria.
Unlike the polished horror we see today, this film feels raw. It was shot in Switzerland, and the cold, stone architecture of the locations adds a layer of authenticity that offsets the more "out there" plot points. You can feel the dampness of the cells. You can sense the isolation. It’s that specific 70s grain that modern digital filters just can't replicate.
Why People Keep Talking About It
You might wonder why a movie from 1977 about a nun in peril still gets discussed in film circles. It isn't just about the shock value. There is a legitimate debate about whether Franco was a secret genius or just a high-speed hack.
- The Ekberg Factor: Seeing a Hollywood icon like Anita Ekberg in a movie this transgressive is jarring. She brings a level of "Old Hollywood" gravitas to a film that is fundamentally about the breakdown of tradition.
- The Soundtrack: The score by Walter Baumgartner is surprisingly haunting. It’s not the typical synth-heavy score of the era; it’s more melodic and melancholic, which makes the darker scenes feel even more tragic.
- The Source Material Controversy: For years, people argued about whether the original letters were real or a hoax. By the time the movie was made, most scholars agreed they were written by a French officer, not a nun. Franco plays with this idea of "fake" sanctity throughout the runtime.
Basically, the film occupies a space between high art and pure trash. That’s a sweet spot for cult film collectors. It’s why companies like Severin Films have spent time and money on high-definition restorations of Franco's work. They know there’s a market for this specific brand of beautiful, ugly cinema.
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Misconceptions and the "Nunsploitation" Label
If you go into this expecting a standard horror movie, you’re going to be disappointed. It's not The Nun from the Conjuring universe. There are no jump scares. Instead, there is a slow, grinding sense of dread.
The term "nunsploitation" suggests a movie that is purely about titillation. While the Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun movie definitely leans into its "R" rating (and then some), it's also a deeply cynical critique of the Church. Franco grew up in Francoist Spain—a time of intense religious repression. You can see his resentment toward that era leaking into every frame. He’s not just trying to shock you; he’s trying to dismantle the imagery he was raised with.
It's also worth noting that the film is often confused with other Portuguese-themed nun films. There were a few of them in the late 70s. However, this one stands out because of its focus on the psychological corruption of Maria rather than just physical torment. It's a "vibe" movie more than a "plot" movie.
Assessing the Legacy of the Film
Is it a good movie? That depends on your definition. If "good" means a coherent narrative and high production values, then no, it's probably a disaster. But if "good" means a film that stays with you, haunts your thoughts, and provokes intense reaction, then it’s a resounding success.
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The film's depiction of the Inquisition is historically flamboyant. Don't go using this for a history project. It takes the most extreme myths of the era and cranks them up to eleven. But in doing so, it creates a dark fairy tale atmosphere that is uniquely its own. It’s a relic of a time when directors could take a camera, a few actors, and a weird idea into the woods and make something that would still be talked about fifty years later.
How to Watch It Today
If you're looking to track this down, you want the restored versions. Older VHS rips are almost unwatchable because the film relies so much on shadows and lighting. Look for the 4K restorations. They reveal the intricate costume work and the surprisingly beautiful cinematography that was hidden under layers of grime for decades.
The Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun movie isn't for everyone. It’s definitely not for the faint of heart or those who are easily offended by religious themes. But for the cinema historian or the fan of the "weird and wonderful," it remains an essential, if uncomfortable, watch.
Actionable Insights for Cult Cinema Enthusiasts
- Compare the Source Material: If you want to see how much Franco changed, read the original Les Lettres Portugaises. It’s a short read and gives you a much deeper appreciation for the internal monologue that the movie struggles to portray.
- Contextualize with Franco’s Career: Watch this alongside Vampyros Lesbos. It helps you understand his visual language—the way he uses music and zooms to create a trance-like state for the viewer.
- Check the Version: Always verify the runtime before buying. Many international versions were heavily censored. To see the film as Franco intended, you need the "uncut" European theatrical release.
- Explore the Genre: If this piqued your interest, look into the films of Walerian Borowczyk, particularly Interno di un convento. It offers a more "prestige" take on similar themes and provides a great counterpoint to Franco's more chaotic style.
Understanding this film requires looking past the surface level of its genre. It is a product of its time—a mixture of post-60s liberation, anti-clerical sentiment, and the boundless, messy energy of one of cinema's most prolific outsiders.