No offense meant to scream queens—heck, at least one of my favorite people ever falls into that category, and I wholeheartedly admire many other performers who do—but one really could not, can not, use that term with respect to Ingrid Pitt, the Polish-born actress best known for her work in a relative handful of largely Hammer-produced horror films in the early 1970s. For one thing, she didn't do much screaming. There was something rather genuinely regal (if there is such a quality) in the aloofness she brought to the portrayals of her largely amoral characters, as in the titular virgin killer of 1971's Countess Dracula, whence the screen cap above is derived. Said appearance of aloofness, combined with her more...fleshly, erm, attributes, gave young fellows such as myself a very particular and somewhat intimidating impression of, if not Platonic ideal for, European womanhood.
She died today, aged 73, after having led what reads like a brave, adventurous life. Her screen presence left a mark on the consciousness of all those who were exposed to it, and I believe I speak for each and every one of those souls in saying we're glad of it.