Fräulein Doktor is as good a demonstration as any of how the once great film industry in Western Europe has declined in the past 40 years. Then, in the late 60s, while the big Hollywood studios were on the ropes, Italy,France and England were turning out movies to fill the void left by Hollywood's decline. There were the James Bond pictures (Doctor No was a surprise hit in the USA, it was first released at the Century theater chain in NYC with a 99 cent afternoon admission price), the Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns (with A Fistful of Dollars released by a distributor that never paid the Italian producers a dime)and French crime movies that usually went to art houses, with exceptions like The Sicilian Clan. And there were European co-productions like Doctor Zhivago and, of course, Fräulein Doktor. With its big budget for the time, and the world talent involved, Fräulein Doktor was good enough that viewers still remember the movie decades later.
Kenneth More, playing a British intelligence officer, has a line in Fräulein Doktor where he tells a caught spy to either talk or he will play the Wall Game. The wall being opposite a firing squad, with little chance of the spy winning the game. That sort of cynical attitude played well across national borders, in the Vietnam War era of 1969.
The steamy scenes between Suzy Kendall and Capucine probably did not damage these performers' chances at getting parts in Hollywood movies, Hollywood studios were in the process of shedding their overseas distribution and production businesses. Fox would no longer co-produce films like The Sicilian Clan, Columbia wouldn't distribute films like Belmondo's The Night Caller. MGM went even further, cutting almost all film production, selling its chain of theaters in India for the value of the land underneath and unloading its Borehamwood studio facilty as Kerkorian looted the studio to raise money for building his casino in Las Vegas (where a Bally casino gift shop sold MGM memorabilia at giveaway prices, stuff left over from the auction of MGM's prop warehouses).
Paramount distributed Fräulein Doktor, but Gulf and Western's Charles Bludhorn, who had taken over the company and canned the studio's aged Board of Directors, unloaded the studio's film library to Universal (as I recall) and really became interested in movies after production chief Robert Evans started turning out one hit after another. But that was in the 70s. Fräulein Doktor with its lesbian scene was buried, with cut versions of the movie showing up on local stations through the 80s.
Kenneth More was usually typecast as a bumbling guy when he was older, especially in the BBC detective series Father Brown. When he was younger, as in the British movie Titanic, he played his standard reserved British officer. In Fräulein Doktor, he had a chance to be a lot tougher than usual, as I recall. It would be nice to see if my memory of this movie is accurate, about his role and, of course, those cavalry horses wearing gas masks and protective covers riding into battle. That was some scene, and Alberto Lattuada showed he was some director, helming this World War I espionage movie, where the money spent on production values really shows up on the screen.

**Possible Spoilers Ahead**
Jason (a.k.a. Herb) Evers is a brilliant brain surgeon who, along with wife Virginia Leith, is involved in the most lackluster onscreen car crash ever. Leith is decapitated and the doctor takes her severed noggin back to his mansion and rejuvenates the head in his lab. The mansion's exterior was allegedly filmed at Tarrytown's Lyndhurst estate; the lab scenes were apparently shot in somebody's basement. The bandaged head is kept alive on "lab equipment" that's almost cheap-looking enough for Ed Wood. Some of the library musicthe movie's high pointlater turned up in Andy Milligan's THE BODY BENEATH. Leith's head has some heavy metaphysical discourses with another of Ever's misfires, a mutant chained in the closet. Meanwhile, the good doc prowls strip joints looking for a body worthy of his wife's gabby noodle. The ending, in uncut prints, features some ahead-of-its-time splatter and dismemberment when the zucchini-headed monster comes out of the closet to bring the movie to a welcome close. This thing took three years to be released and then, audiences gave it the bad reception it richly deserved. Between this, PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE and a few others, 1959 should have been declared The Year Of The Turkey.