Forbidden Game of Love Blu-ray Review

Mondo Macabro

Blu-ray Release: February 3, 2026 (following the limited edition release on August 7th, 2025)

Video: 1.66:1/1080p/Color

Audio: Spanish DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0

Subtitles: English

Run Time: 93:29

Director: Eloy de la Iglesia

During a holiday break, literature teacher Don Luis (Javier Escrivá) sees two of his students, Miguel (John Moulder-Brown) and Julia, hitchhiking and offers them a ride. He takes them to his isolated mansion in the country. The trip turns sinister when the young lovers meet Luis’ “friend,” Jaime (Simon Andreu) and discover that the tall iron gates of the house have been chained shut. (From Mondo’s official synopsis)

Welcome all to another half-baked episode of “Does This Count as a Giallo?”

Eloy de la Iglesia was a vital Spanish filmmaker in the waning days of General Franco’s regime. He was especially renowned for his groundbreaking quinqui (delinquent crime) features, queer-themed dramas, and erotic thrillers, all of which pushed the boundaries of the country’s fascist censorship standards. He also made a number of films in the giallo tradition, including straight-forward, Hitchcockian productions, like The Glass Ceiling (Spanish: El techo de cristal, 1971) and No One Heard the Scream (Spanish: Nadie oyó gritar, 1973), as well as films that pressed the genre beyond its expected definition, like Murder in a Blue World (Spanish: Una gota de sangre para morir amando, 1973) and Cannibal Man (Spanish: La semana del asesino, 1972).

Forbidden Love Game (Spanish: Juego de amor prohibido, 1975) isn’t usually discussed alongside de la Iglesia’s other thrillers, because it better fits the erotic and quinqui format, but counts as a twist on a less common giallo tradition of the terrible house party. That’s not a technical term – I’m not sure what you’d call these films – but it’s a pretty apt description, so I’m going to go ahead and coin the term. Terrible house party gialli mixes elements of Agatha Christie’s drawing room mysteries and home invasion thrillers with sleazy horror and sexploitation elements.

Though not the first of its kind (that might be Ernesto Gastaldi’s Libido [1965]), Umberto Lenzi’s Orgasmo (aka: Paranoia, 1969) is the progenitor of the movement, leading to Michele Lupo’s The Weekend Murders (Italian: Concerto per pistola solista, 1970), Silvio Amadio’s Amuck! (Italian: Alla ricerca del piacere, 1972), and Lenzi’s own An Ideal Place to Kill (Italian: Un posto ideale per uccidere; aka: Oasis of Fear, 1972). Many of the Orgasmo-type gialli are microcosm class warfare stories about humiliation rituals taking a deadly turn and even the more murder mystery-focused films, like Mario Bava’s Five Dolls for an August Moon (Italian: 5 bambole per la luna d'agosto, 1970), tend to be populated by trashy societal elites.

De la Iglesia’s thrillers are steeped in criticism of social and political inequality. In the cases of Cannibal Man and Murder in a Blue World it’s not even subtext, but an inherent part of the plot. This is also the case for Forbidden Game of Love, which presents a multi-tiered class battle between its wealthy, elite college professor antagonist, his middle class students, and his working class servant. In clear reference to Franco’s fascism, Don Luis’ initial promise of security becomes a means of imprisonment and exploitation, and the only way to combat his cruelty is solidarity between his victims. The age discrepancies between characters are also important, especially when the tables are turned in the third act.

De la Iglesia was also, as mentioned, known for queer-themed narratives, though, in the case of his thrillers, these themes were usually less straightforward (excuse the pun). Here, Don Luis and Jaime’s odd relationship, which is slowly revealed over the course of the story, has homoerotic undertones alongside allusions to a lopsided, abusive domestic relationship, which ends up fulfilling both the queer undertones and the larger political metaphor. References to the possible bisexuality of the other characters are extremely thinly disguised – just enough to feign ignorance, had the censors come knocking.

Video

Not surprisingly, Forbidden Game of Love never made it to US home video before now. There was a region-free Spanish DVD released in Spain in 2006, but it was the censored theatrical version of the film. Mondo Macabro’s 1080p, 1.85:1 transfer was made using a new 4K restoration of the original, uncut negative, making it, I believe, the first time the film has been available uncensored anywhere outside of theaters. It’s also the first English-friendly availability of the film, period, cut or uncut.

The image quality is clean, clear, and work has been done to boost the delicate black levels. There isn’t a lot of print damage and film grain appears accurate, rather than noisy. On the more critical side of things, the color quality is slightly washed out. The slight pink tinting throughout makes me think this was due to the condition of the negatives, though the overall softness of the palette is in keeping with similar Spanish films from the era, so this might just be how the film has always looked. 

Audio

Forbidden Game of Love is presented in its original Castilian Spanish mono and uncompressed DTS-HD Master Audio. This is a typically thin, performance-driven mix and all dialogue was recorded in post, creating a bit of an inherent lip sync issue. Composer Alfonso Santisteban, who provided music for other Spanish pseudo-gialli, like Javier Aguirre’s The Killer Is One of 13 (Spanish: El asesino está entre los trece, 1973) and Miguel Madrid’s Killer of Dolls (Spanish: El asesino de muñecas, 1975), underscores the film’s dueling whimsical, melancholic, and sinister tones appropriately with a couple of memorable themes. The soundtrack also makes good use of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” and other diegetic classical pieces.

Extras

• The Spanish Gothic of Eloy de la Iglesia (18:35, HD) – Angel Sala, director of the Sitges Film Festival, contextualizes Forbidden Game of Love as a transitional picture in the director’s career and discusses the larger Spanish film scene in the waning days of Franco, the concept of Spanish Gothic, the careers of the cast, and the film’s socio-political themes.

The images on this page are taken from the Blu-ray and sized for the page. Larger versions can be viewed by clicking the images. Note that there will be some JPG compression.