THE HOUSE THAT BURNS AT NIGHT (1985) ***

Rene Cardona Jr.’s The House That Burns at Night is in the running for best opening credits sequence of all time.  Before we even get to see the title of the movie there have already been two stripteases.  If you think that’s awesome, get a load of this:  A junkie stripper (Sonia Infante) stabs a pimp in the groin before the screenwriters have been listed on screen.  And I’m not talking like a short stabbing scene that leaves everything to your imagination.  I mean like full on arterial spray of penis plasma gushing in slow motion.  But wait, there’s more.  Then two paramedics take turns banging her in the back of their speeding ambulance (complete with high five when they swap places).  The ambulance, it should be noted, drives right past a sign that says (I shit you not) “VAG TRANSPORT”! while an EMT is getting some OPP.  Now, I know this is a Spanish language film, so the pun may have been unintentional, but it was downright hysterical to me. 

What I’m getting at here is we are granted seven minutes of pure cinema right off the bat courtesy of Mexican movie maestro Rene Cardona Jr. 

Infante (who also produced this sucker) stars as Alazana, the stripper on the run who settles into a swanky South of the Border brothel to lay low.  Seeing an opportunity, she gets the decrepit madam Esperia (Carmen Montejo) hooked on dope and tries to steal the old bag’s boyfriend Eleazar (Salvador Pineda).  Alazana soon engages in a power struggle with the two lovers for control of the house of ill repute. 

There’s no shortage of female flesh on display here as we see the sex workers stripping, turning tricks, taking bubble baths, getting into water fights and being allergic to clothing in general.  The brothel set itself has a lot of personality as it is almost like a mash up of Wild West saloon, Chinese restaurant, and disco.  The Altmanesque way Cardona captures the action is reminiscent of a Tinto Brass movie as the camera kind of wanders around looking for people who are getting it on.  The film also has a surprising amount of queer content as there are several gay and trans sex workers who ply their trade in the brothel. 

While the film is consistently involving throughout, it really can’t live up to its epic first reel.  The love triangle plot line begins to spin its wheels by the time the third act rolls around.  Cardona does pepper some great bits of cinematic gymnastics (like when he intercuts Pineda blowing away a cop in slow motion a la Sam Peckinpah with shots of Infante entertaining a client) in with the scads of skin, which is more than enough to prevent doldrums from setting in.  The strangely existential ending is really something too. 

The reason to see this though is for Infante.  She’s plenty hot and has several great nude scenes as well.  Whenever she’s on screen, The House That Burns at Night sizzles.