Lemora: A Child's Tale of The Supernatural

We first discovered this gem over twenty years ago on The Late Late Show on Houston's CBS affiliate, KHOU. Then, it
was known as The Legendary Curse of Lemora. Now reassigned its original title, Lemora: A Child's Tale of The
Supernatural, the film has been restored to its original low-budget glory in the form of Synapse Films' superbly restored
DVD edition.

Now you might find it odd for me to assign to iy an American Film Institute-styled critical dispensation of the technical
merits of a no-budget lesbian vampire film, but the movie carries that much weight in the Ashworth siblings' circles. It's no
re-hashing of J.S. Le Fanu's "Carmilla", to the extent that the vampire is more pedophile than lesbian. Stay with me here.
We may well be discussing the world's first pedophile vampire flick.

We'll begin with a quick summary of the plot.

The angelic Lila Lee, played without a hint of camp by the campy goodness that was Cheryl "Rainbeaux" Smith, is her
town's "Singin' Angel". Her crappy lip-synching of church hymns is the only aspect of the performance that betrays an
otherwise spot-on role. In Smith's finest and most fulfilling role, the viewer sees all of the vulnerability and innocence that
would lead us to believe we were actually watching a thirteen year-old, and not the eighteen year-old beyond-her-years
party monster that Cheryl Smith actually was.

We'll discuss my unhealthy obsession with Cheryl Smith on
another page, but suffice it to say that her role in "Lemora" is her
most complete, and was apparently completed before the young
starlet began her descent into heroin addiction. I deduce this by
the presence of the occasional party bags under the eyes and not
the red-rimmed glare of heroin.

The ward of the town's repressed preacher (played by the
economically-minded director Richard Blackburn), Lila runs away
upon receiving a letter about the aililng health of her gangster
father Alvin Lee, who apparently had some time off from touring
with Ten Years After.

The letter is signed "Your fellow Christian, Lemora". Odd
thing to find a Christian vampire, but I guess 'ole Vlad
himself was once one (or was he Jewish?)

Lila can't seem to go anywhere without attracting the
attention of sickos looking to get into her pants. She
takes off stowed away in the backseat of a car and ends
up in town only to attract the attention of the ticket seller
offering her the symbolic chocolate candies and
complimenting her status as a pretty little girl. Come to
think of it, "Pretty Little Girls" looks like a header I've seen
posted in alt.binaries nudie newsgroups. Let's move on.

The rickety bus she boards to Lemora's swampy lair
known as "Astroth" is helmed by the venerable
crappy film veteran Hy Pike. You may have seen him
in "C.H.U.D.", but I didn't. His bus driver seems to be
the only person in the film not completely intent on
deflowering the virginal Lila, but probably not for lack
of wanting. This emphysemic orc has probably not
seen even a semi-erection for some time.

The bus ride to Astroth is a bumpy one to say the very
least, anticlimaxing in an abrupt thud that sees Pike's
driver devoured by the pasty ghouls that inhabit the
bogs. Just as our heroine is about to become another
meal for the mysterious creatures (who look like
they're waering an old man mask smeared with
paste), another layer of intrigue is added when
vampires show up to save Lila from the creatures.
Again, stay with me.

Lila wakes up locked in a stone house to be fed a
healthy meal of raw meat by some old broad named
Solange that could pass for a zombie herself.
Solange does a bizarre dance around Lila singing
"There Was An Old Woman", and seems to be
thoroughly enjoying scaring the shit out of the young
teen. Watch for the old lady's exit: Lemora calls her
away and she does a sprint back to the house that
would make Jesse Owens proud.

An attempted escape later, we are introduced to Lemora formally.
A tall, pasty vampire seemingly stricken with rosacea, Lemora is a
treat to watch. Dialogue is not the film's strongest suit, and Leslie
Gilb's Lemora treats us to lines so fantastically stilted they would
make George Lucas proud. I can't resist. Here's a sampler:

"She was a weakling who couldn't stand love."

"You cannot kill me. I am The Un-Killable."

I could go on, but you'll have to buy the DVD to really appreciate it.

A tall, spooky apparition full of bugged-out expressions and
poorly-applied wigs (see left), Gilb brings one of the most unique
Lesbian pedophile vampires to the screen in ways only she could.
As evidenced by the rest of her acting work (Dinner theatre?
Waitressing?), it would seem she played the role all too well...