I only saw it once. This happened in 1952, I was seven, the movie 13.
We were so young... But I kept in mind, forever, the strong moments of Gunga's sacrifice.
I realized that time how much a people can be hardly submitted and used by a foreign nation. Under these historical circumstances, in the movie, the personal relation of friendship, a kind of friendship that ignores itself, the one raised between people who share daily life, who see each other faces, who knows each other names, but belong to different worlds, can only make appears. Then, in the most critical moments a troubling question emerges: "Whom are we, in first, supposed to be loyal?", which People, family, motherland, the person you know close to you?. You do not have time to give a perfect answer, urgency is there, and it is for life or death. Gunga-Din gives his answer with sacrifice of himself. Somewhere, in a confuse manner, a problem remains unsolved, the emotion grows with the rhythm of the movie until somebody dies, just one life, nothing compared to so many other fictions or realities we can see today, because this death, this unique vanishing life I lived it, I shared with my child unconditional friendship. It was lived by the spectator I was. That day I loose Gunga-Din for ever. As I left behind, later, my pretty childhood, as I left from then so many worlds I lived in. I left all that for good and these lines are today a short visit I didn't expect to do this morning when getting up.

Well, there you have it, another disillusion on my account. Two, actually! First of all, even though I like to think of myself that I know a little something about 70's euro-exploitation and its most prolific contributors, I never heard about Joseph W. Sarno before. Here's a guy who made over seventy rancid and cult-laden exploitation movies and I haven't seen a single one! How? Why? What happened here? Secondly, and even worse, just when you think to have found a new source for obscure cult movies, that director's most famous and supposed "masterpiece" turns out to be an irredeemably dull and irritating film. Admittedly, lesbian vampire movies form a pretty insignificant sub genre as a whole, but some of them bath in ominous atmosphere and curious sensuality (like José Larraz' "Vampyres" or Harry Kümmel's "Daughters of Darkness"). Joseph Sarno's film has nothing to offer, except copious amounts of gratuitous nudity and even that becomes boring rather quickly. The events take place in a secluded old castle, hidden deep in the German mountains, where five centuries ago lived a malicious and bloodthirsty (literally) baroness. Her loyal disciples still throw naked dance parties in the castle's catacombs, which are lit by penis-shaped candlesAUCH, and hope to resurrect the baroness any time soon now. Suddenly (don't even ask how) the castle is full of young and sexy female guests, so even more erotic rites ensue. Sounds delicious and entertaining enough, but "The Devil's Plaything" contains a massive number of sequences where literally nothing happens and where the cast members' ignorant facial expressions are simply unendurable! Sarno isn't capable of creating suspense or building a Gothic atmosphere (or maybe he just didn't bother to) and the actresses' capacities restrict themselves to standing in front the camera topless and pull a really pathetic face. Please do yourself a favor: no matter how desperately you strive to see all lurid lesbian-vampire movies of the 70's, this one isn't worth a penny! Even the repertoires of Jess Franco and Jean Rollin are pure art compared to this dud.