60's Italian Horror Part Eight

WEREWOLF IN A GIRLS' DORMITORY
(1961)
Dir - Paolo Heusch
Overall: MEH

While it tries desperately to get by on its hooky title, Werewolf in a Girls' Dormitory, (Lycanthropus), is a typically dull, B-Euro-horror movie with all of the standard hang-ups.  Bad dubbing, bad pacing, bad dialog, boring characters, a boring mystery, boring direction; it is what can be expected for better or worse.  To be fair, it is not exceptionally defective, just humdrum.  On paper, being conservative with a monster's screen time can be used to convey ever-mounting intensity, but Heusch's bland presentation here just consistently underwhelms.  Again, the werewolf make-up is not bad, but the whopping three scenes that he is properly shown in not only come too late, but are also unimaginative in their staging.  As it were, the movie is far too busy following around the head of a reform school, a handsome new teacher, a student who is clearly not a teenager, and the Italian Peter Lorre stand-in and genre regular Luciano Pigozzi as a caretaker, all fusing over missing letters and people's right arms.  It does makes sense when you see it.

THE EMBALMER
(1965)
Dir - Dino Tavella
Overall: MEH

Only two directorial efforts exist from Dino Tavella, both released in 1965 and one of them, The Embalmer, (Il mostro di Venezia, The Monster of Venice), is as mind-numbingly lame as any Italian horror film ever was.  Though it is not a direct adaptation of any Edgar Wallace works, it is certainly done in the style of the Krimis crime films made in Germany around the same time, most of which were based off Wallace's stories.  Well, at least it is done in that style when it is not wasting time showing a handsome detective talking to a non-stop barrage of unfunny people while hanging out with traveling college girls.  For whatever ridiculous reason, this is exactly what the movie spends almost its entire running time doing.  Tavella makes a few interesting visual choices such as freeze-framing the Grim Reaper-clad killer's intended victims, but this ultimately does nothing to lift the movie from its endlessly dull presentation.  The basic concept of a murder in scuba-diving gear is not frightening let alone even interesting and each time he kills, we are treated to virtually the exact same "I will preserve your beauty forever" speech from him, each one growing more laughably grating than the last.

AN ANGEL FOR SATAN
(1966)
Dir - Camillo Mastrocinque
Overall: MEH

The final Italian Gothic horror outing of several that Barbara Steele appeared in was Camillo Mastrocinque's An Angel for Satan, (Un angelo per Satana).  Once again in a dual role, Steele comes close to being a saving grace for the whole proceedings.  As a heiress to a noble Count occasionally getting possessed/tormented by a wicked ancestor who she of course looks exactly like, (or so it would seem), Steele gracefully balances being either innocent or a cold, evil seductress, sometimes within the same scene.  Though the film shies away from any actual nudity, Steele's diabolical persona spares no one, (wealthy, poor, male, female), in dropping her clothes in front of them and even in one instance, beating a mute village idiot who she dares to stare at her birthday suite.  Outside of Steele's bewitching and dynamic performance, the plot is meandering and the final twist rather dumb.  Mastrocinque keeps the first act moving along gracefully enough and the middle one is where Steele truly shines, but the third is an overall let down and gives off the feel of overstaying its initial welcome.  There is a fair share of memorable scenes and it is photographed as atmospherically as any other film of its kind, but it is still not one of the better examples of Gothic Euro-horror out there.

60's Italian Horror Part Seven

ATOM AGE VAMPIRE
(1960)
Dir - Anton Giulio Majano
Overall: MEH

For anyone hankering for a cheap, laughably, and remarkably dumb version of Georges Franju's Eyes Without a Face, look no further than Atom Age Vampire, (Seddok, l'erede di Satana).  The penultimate film that Anton Giulio Majano would make before undergoing a rather prolific television directing career, the premise is close enough to Franju's masterpiece as to be plagiarized.  The mad scientist angle is revved-up though to include a monstrous transformation that is held together only by the flimsy logic of campy horror films.  For an English-dubbed, foreign B-movie, it is as bad as can be expected with every line of dialog no matter how dramatically insignificant being delivered as if it is profound.  Also, the film is primarily made up of drawn out scenes of characters talking that slows the whole thing down to a laborious crawl as well as exemplifying the melodramatic dialog in the first place.  Another Euro-horror trademark is in the misleading title; there is no vampire in any frame.  Though the movie at least poses the question of what psychological trauma befalls victims of nuclear deformity, it does not actually explore it past that.

THE BLANCHEVILLE MONSTER
(1963)
Dir - Alberto De Martino
Overall: WOOF

Out of the hoards of tired, Gothic, Italian horror films that spat-forth in the 1960s, one of the least remarkable and derivative was Alberto De Martino's The Blancheville Monster, (also released simply and amusingly as just Horror).  Not the first or last film to haphazardly claim to be an Edgar Allan Poe adaptation by just barely if at all borrowing arbitrary, basic themes from the author's work, nothing here is remotely original let alone compelling.  Another "returning to their creepy castle, there is a curse, shady house servants, guy in a mask, whatever" set up, several characters are in love, some are in cahoots, one gets hypnotized, and none of it matters.  The dubbing and pacing is as ruinous as ever, but it is telling that De Martino himself paid the movie little to no attention after the fact, (or by the looks of it, even at the time), calling it "a little film of no importance".  He ain't lying.  If the script had any kind of clever components and if De Martino put forth any kind of effort to not lull his audience to almost immediate sleep, then there would at least be something to appreciate.  Instead, it is a wasteful enterprise through and through and a bit of Euro-horror that assuredly deserves to be skipped.

LA VENDETTA DI LADY MORGAN
(1965)
Dir - Massimo Pupillo
Overall: GOOD

For a single year, director Massimo Pupillo was prolific enough to make his first three horror films before never returning to the genre again.  By his own admittance, he only went into horror in the first place to get out of making documentaries, but once he found himself immediately pigeonholed, he essentially gave up and only got behind the lens a small handful of times over the next decade and a half.  His final horror effort then, La vendetta di Lady Morgan, (Lady Morgan's Vengeance), is a curious one that still drags and provides some unintentional chuckles do to its occasional clumsiness, but the structure is rather pleasantly bizarre.  At first, the complete disregard for creating any kind of mystery seems lazy, but once it is revealed that this was all in service of getting to the increasingly oddball third act, the movie's fiendishly silly charm is rather enduring.  Gianni Grimaldi's script cannot make up its mind what kind of supernatural rules it should abide by, so instead it just throws as many as it can into the mix at once.  This includes ghosts that can turn wine into water or acid, water into blood, spontaneously blow up ceramic decor, be either transparent or flesh, also be vampires, and also be afraid of fire.  Knowing Pupillo was hardly passionate about such a project to begin with, it is kind of a captivating film perhaps in an accidental sense, but it positively stands out at least amongst other vanilla flavored ones of the era.

60's Italian Horror Part Six

THE VAMPIRE AND THE BALLERINA
(1960)
Dir - Renato Polselli
Overall: MEH

The gimmicky, mildly exploitative The Vampire and the Ballerina, (L'amante del vampiro), was the first of several horror outings from writer/director Renato Polselli.  Not altogether a remarkable one, it manages to feature a handful of somewhat sexually charged and astonishingly boring dance sequences in a small living room where a troupe of leggy ballerinas flay their limbs about while swinging jazz music plays on the soundtrack.  Enough other opportunities are taken to show scantily clad women without going full frontal, giving it a deliberately sleazy feel for its day, if not an explicit one.  Polselli makes a few commendable attempts at creating a tense atmosphere, playing most of the scenes of characters walking around creepy places to no dramatic music.  These scenes go on for ages though and nothing exciting ends up happening anywhere else as the awful script is full of stock, lazy reasons for characters to venture into deserted castles, go off on their own, and become vampires in the first place.  The Gothic locations are well used and it is photographed acceptably, but the lead, caped undead baddie, (who is also given the worst dialog), wears a mask that a six year old would be embarrassed to don on Halloween, so it inevitably comes off more ridiculous than probably intended.

THE MURDER CLINIC
(1966)
Dir - Lionello De Felice/Elio Scardamaglia
Overal: MEH

Lionello De Felice, (who only directed a small handful of films over less than a two decade period), was unofficially behind the lens here as producer Elio Scardamaglia ultimately took credit for what may have been just a few days shooting near the end.  To confuse matters worse, Scardamaglia used the Americanized alias Michael Hamilton anyway.  Regardless of who is responsible, The Murder Clinic, (La lama nel corpo, The Knife in the Body), is in many ways an oddity that is certainly rooted in Gothic horror, but stylistically on the cusp of the newly emerging giallo.  A killer with a switch-blade wearing black gloves whose identity is only revealed at the very end certainly hits all the giallo check marks.  Likewise, the colors are striking, but cinematographer Marcello Masciocchi's use of shadow is formulaic for the creepy castle setting that would have worked just as well had the movie been in black and white.  The film is easily strongest from a visual standpoint and even features a grotesquely deformed woman in a black hood.  Violence wise, it is tame by the standards that Mario Bava would popularize at the same time, but still relatively jarring when it occurs.  It is the script that ends up sinking the ship though not so much by being laughable, but by being so mundane as to barely be worth paying attention to in the first place.

LA BAMBOLA DI SATANA
(1969)
Dir - Ferruccio Casapinta
Overall: MEH

A torture chamber, a woman suffering hallucinations, a mysterious figure wearing black gloves, a conniving governess, day for night scenes galore, a Scooby Doo-worthy, faux-ghost conspiracy to gain ownership of a property, and even the stock howling sound that Deep Purple used at the beginning of "Hush", La bambola di Satana, (Satan's Doll), certainly pulls no punches in embellishing in as many horror trappings as it sees fit.  The only cinematic effort of any kind attributed to writer/director Gerruccio Casapinta and one that was never released in the US or dubbed into English, it is not an awful excursion into Gothic horror by any means.  Yet it is assuredly not a very unique one either.  By 1969, flashy giallo thrillers were gaining much momentum and a handful of Italian directors had already done, (and were doing), more visually compelling works in the genre, making Casapinta's rather flat, uninspired presentation here stick out in an unremarkable fashion even more.  The shots are all static and in lackluster lighting, plus roughly eighty-five percent of the movie is characters sitting around in chairs talking anyway.  A random fist fight, a random sword fight, some mild nudity, and a couple would-be nightmare sequences are not really enough to propel it over its mediocre status.

60's Italian Horror Part Five

TERROR IN THE CRYPT
(1964)
Dir - Camilio Mastrocinque
Overall: MEH

Another Gothic horror movie inspired loosely as needed on the Carmilla novella by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Terror in the Crypt, (La cripta e l’incubo, Crypt of the Vampire, Crypt of Horror), is one of a handful of Italian productions that Christopher Lee appeared in during the 1960s.  Lee's non-villainous role as a Count who is afraid that his daughter may be possessed by an ancestor condemned as a witch, (naturally), is adequately prominent and thankfully his own voice is utilized alongside the rest of the American-dubbed Italian cast.  Camilio Mastrocinque replaced the equally prolific initial director Antonio Margheriti and for a filmmaker more accustomed to comedies, he does a fine enough job going through the "creepy old castle, stark candlelight, decrepit tombs, women being helplessly afraid of everything and having nightmares" motions.  Though it is well done for what it is and slightly less stagnant than most, the film's highly formulaic approach is ultimately its undoing as there were simply so, so many other movies almost exactly like it being made around the same time.

BLOODY PIT OF HORROR
(1965)
Dir - Domenico Massimo Pupillo
Overall: MEH

The second of three low-budget, camp-fueled horror outings from Domenico Massimo Pupillo was the flashy-titled Bloody Pit of Horror, (Il Boia Scarlatto).  The premise of an assembly of models and photographers stumbling across a castle to take advantage of the scenery for their photonovel, (a castle that naturally was long left abandoned with a convicted torturer called the Crimson Executioner sealed off in an iron maiden inside), is just adequate enough to hold the hilariously stupid plot together.  Asinine dialog that only exists in the campiest of Euro-horror movies such as "His noble crusade against sin lives again through me!" flow as freely as Italian wine.  We are also granted a four minute photo shoot sequence over a record skipping on the soundtrack, (no joke), which is enough to knock any fully conscious viewer into slumber land.  For the most part though, it is so stupid and nonsensical that plenty of laughter can be had by the proceedings.  The death sequences are equal parts arbitrary and elaborate, with a decked-out torture chamber and a random room full of wires attached to arrows with an adorable stuffed spider at the masked Executioner's disposal.  It manages to stay sleazy without technically showing any naked body parts, but you will be far too busy laughing at the dialog, costumes, lack of logic, and needle-skipping soundtrack to really complain.

LA STREGA IN AMORE
(1966)
Dir - Damiano Damiani
Overall: MEH

An adaptation of Mexican novelists Carlos Fuentes' Aura, the most Italian-named ever Damiano Damiani's La strega in amore, (The Witch, The Witch in Love, Strange Obsession), is a strange and frustrating psychological thriller.  The Haunting's Richard Johnson leads the otherwise local cast as a man asking gallons of questions and getting one cryptic, non-answer after the other from two thoroughly bizarre women living in a giant, crumbling house in the heart of Rome.  Everyone's behavior becomes increasingly agitated and baffling and because of that, the viewer never has a clue as to what type of relationship any of the characters truly have with each other.  The score from frequent spaghetti western maestro Luis Bacolov plays an almost staring role at times and certainly enhances the strangeness in a few key scenes, namely random dance numbers and feral motion breakdowns.  While some of this plays out in a creepy and odd enough manner to engage one's interest, twenty or so minutes could afford to be trimmed to keep the whole thing from seeming so wandering and aimless. 

60's Italian Horror Part Four

KATARSIS
(1963)
Dir - Giuseppe Veggezzi
Overall: WOOF

The only film ever made by Giuseppe Vegezzi, Katarsis, (Sfida al diavolo, Challenge the Devil), inexplicably stars Christopher Lee who apparently owed someone a favor or something.  While it is not altogether incompetent since the film is occasionally photographed in an atmospheric fashion, it is still a laughable mess.  There are preposterous scenes like a bunch of drunk assholes dancing around fully clothed which the movie constitutes as a diabolical "orgy" and a long, claustrophobic and awkward take of the same assholes, (very), slowly walking up a staircase.  Dialog like "Whisky! Whisky! Drugs! Drugs!" followed by "I want some drugs as well." gives a rather routine example of the high caliber of screenwriting present.  Of course, the biggest detriment is tortuously slow pacing.  Mostly told in flashbacks, it gives off the unmistakable feel that the original cut was far too short so they quickly wrote and shot more utterly pointless material to flesh it all out.  This includes a moment at a nightclub where several female singers perform one after the other without advancing a single element of the plot whatsoever.  The conclusion which is meant to be a surreal and dark trek into random madness is so absolutely moronic that it would warrant momentous laughter if not again for how utterly boring it simultaneously is.

TERROR-CREATURES FROM THE GRAVE
(1965)
Dir - Massimo Pupillo
Overall: MEH

It says something when director Massimo Pupillo was indifferent enough concerning his work on Terror-Creatures from the Grave, (5 tombe per un medium), to willingly use the alias Ralph Zucker and further distance himself from the project.  With yet another set up of a dead guy in a creepy villa needing his will gone over, the movie is off to a derivative start and never recovers from there.  Even for a low-budget horror film produced in the 60s, the pacing is cripplingly tortoise-like.  At one point a guy in a wheelchair stabs himself with a sword and then we see some monster hands for whatever reason, all of which takes absolutely forever and constitutes as one of the most impressively boring death scenes ever filmed.  There is a mystery that never picks up any momentum, no even remotely spooky set pieces, and the characters have absolutely zero charisma top to bottom, including a wasted Barbara Steele who seems to disappear entirely from the movie for large periods at a time.  It is pretty much a failure in every detail that it may be setting out to achieve, but it us so unremarkable in doing so that it deserves to be forgotten about more than it deserves anyone's outright scorn.

A QUIET PLACE IN THE COUNTRY
(1968)
Dir - Elio Petri
Overall: GOOD

One of the strangest and ultimately most pretentious horror films possibly ever made in Italy was Elio Petri's A Quiet Place in the Country, (Un tranquillo posto di campagna, Un coin tranquille à la campagne).  Based off of the wonderfully named Oliver Onion's own short story "The Beckoning Fair One", the pacing certainly is not sluggish.  Instead it is quite frantic with Petri's frequent collaborator Luigi Kuveiller's incredibly busy camera work.  This enhances the chaos along with lightning-fast editing and incessantly surreal images that mix flashbacks and hallucinations to confuse what may or may not be actually happening.  Django himself Franco Nero's performance from the get go is unmistakably of an unstable man, just as much as Vanessa Redgrave's is of an unstable, ultimately vulnerable partner in their bizarre relationship.  The images themselves are hyper-sexual and violent and the film could be saying something metaphorically about the struggling, depraved artist or it could "simply" be a visually over the top, cinematic unraveling of a tortured one.  The intentionally avant-garde presentation would seem indulgently absurd and may in fact be so to some, but it is so consistent and relentless that Petri's ambitious vision cannot be considered anything but fully realized.

60's Italian Horror Part Three

MILL OF THE STONE WOMEN
(1960)
Dir - Giorgio Ferroni
Overall: GOOD

Notable as the first Italian horror movie to be shot in color, Giorgio Ferroni's Mill of the Stone Women, (Il mulino delle donne di pietra), is highly stylish and often atmospheric enough to make up for its consistently sluggish pace.  It is unfortunate that the first act takes its time too leisurely as well as having laughable, melodramatic touches like characters falling in love to the point of having compete mental breakdowns over it.  Once the film plays the "It is all a hallucination" card and starts toying with the audience through its dashing, leading man Pierre Brice, things become a bit more interesting.  Ferroni and cinematographer Pier Ludovico Pavoni utilize Gothic, shadowy lighting and balance the primarily beige color backdrop with vivid reds, violets, and greens, but it is nowhere near as otherworldly clashing as what Mario Bava would famously indulge in around the same time if we were to compare.  As a more ghastly, Italian-flavored re-working of the already established House of Wax tropes though, Mill of the Stone Woman ultimately delivers, particularly with its gruesome carousel of hell and mad doctor romp final set piece.

IL DEMONIO
(1963)
Dir - Brunello Rondi
Overall: GOOD

Frequent Federico Fellini screenwriter, art director, and collaborator Brunello Rondi made his second full-length as director with Il demonio, (The Demon).  Unsettling and quite stark, it is an unrelenting depiction of superstition run amok in a small, Italian village where a woman for whatever reason has claimed a local man as only hers and resorts to witchcraft to obtain him.  Or so she and others claim.  As no supernatural activity is explicitly confirmed, (at least any that cannot be explained as being part of any kind of frenzied delirium), it works intentionally as an examination of religious ignorance, fear, and the mental instability caused by such things.  Israeli actress and future Bond girl Daliah Lavi, (who also appeared in Mario Bava's The Whip and the Body the same year), is captivating and frighting as the bewitched peasant girl, who dishes out as much torment as she gets back from the locals.  Themes of hypocrisy run frequent throughout the movie where men both condemn and banish her as well as sexually take advantage of her when it is convenient for them.  At the same time, villagers throw rocks, beat, and blame her for any current misfortunes bestowed upon them.

THE SEVENTH GRAVE
(1965)
Dir - Garibaldi Serra Caracciolo
Overall: WOOF

An Italian take on The Cat and the Canary, The Seventh Grave, (La settima tomba), is the disastrous only film from Garibaldi Serra Caracciolo.  More to the point, it does everything in an incredibly bland and mediocre fashion.  Gothic horror/mystery cliches run amok, (frequent organ cues on the soundtrack when something is supposed to be scary, an ancient castle, a seance, mad scientist experiments, corpses in caskets, a crypt, characters getting picked off or gone missing, a dead rich guy's will, a long and unnecessary explanation at the end to make sense of everything), and the story is so perpetually lame-brained that not a single plot point registers even the most minute intrigue.  Caracciolo's lifeless direction does not help, but the script offers so very little to work with that only a select few directors could have added enough flare to distract you from how monotonously mundane it is.  Dreadful pacing is nothing new to low-budget horror films from the era, (whether made in Hollywood or internationally such as here), and in fact is actually expected.  Yet everything going on in here could not be more uninspired if it tried, which it does not.

60's Foreign Horror Part Four

BLOOD AND ROSES
(1960)
Dir - Roger Vadim
Overall: MEH

Rober Vadim's Blood and Roses, (Et mourir de plaisir, All Die of Pleasure), was not the first or last cinematic interpretation of Sheridan Le Fanu's Carmilla, but it was the first in color and the first to make its lesbian story components more prominent.  Vadim and cinematographer Claude Renoir shoot Italy's Hadrian's Villa beautifully, briefly and memorably even indulging in an artsy dream sequence near the end that mixes black and white photography with bright, blood-red Technicolor and people swimming upside down outside of windows or something.  Sadly, the movie is flat-lined by dispassionate performances, most of all from the lead and Vadim's wife Annette Strøyberg who is about as emotive as a dry erase board.  It also does not bask in enough atmospheric, vampiric moments, outside of a small handful of superstitious townsfolk scenes right out of a cliche book.  While it is the most sexually awoken version of the source material then filmed and not that it needs to cross over into exploitation territory, it nevertheless lingers in a sort of awkward form that is too tame and pretentious in place of being perhaps more graphic.

MOTHER JOAN OF THE ANGELS
(1961)
Dir - Jerzy Kawalerowicz
Overall: GREAT

A logical contender for the first unequivocal nunsploitation film, Jarzy Kawalerowicz' Mother Joan of the Angels, (Matka Joanna od Aniołów, The Devil and the Nun), is a rather masterfully made, evocative look at human adversity.  As one of the prominent members of the Polish Film School, Kawalerowicz uses the historical backdrop of the Loudun possessions and Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz' novella about the same, examining the voluntary struggling of a severely humbled priest and a willingly possessed abbess.  Characters frequently stare directly into the camera and exhibit behavior that is conflicting with the positions that they are desperately struggling to uphold, raising questions for the viewer about dual human nature and perhaps the alluring need to self-torment.  Completely void of incidental music, much of the film plays startlingly quiet, but the sounds that are utilized, (such as church bells, self-flagellation, whispered prayers, and one character singing a song about preferring to be a nun over being an abused house wife), speak volumes as to the symbolic nature of the story.  It would primarily take Ken Russell's The Devils, (which was also based on the Loudun possessions), to more heavily influence the exploitative, golden age of nunsploitation, but the genre's origins here were far more metaphorically challenging and in many ways more rewarding.

CREATURE WITH THE BLUE HAND
(1967)
Dir - Alfred Vohrer
Overall: GOOD

Another Edgar Wallace-based outing from the Rialto Film production company by frequent director Alfred Vohrer, Creature with the Blue Hand, (Die blaue Hand), fuses whodunit and old dark house elements into its krimi format.  It is also more deliberately silly with a wacky jazz soundtrack, cartoonish, villainous set pieces perpetrated by an insane asylum overseer with a monocle, and a topsy-turvy plot involving elaborate secret passages, an inheritance, a room full of mannequins for some reason, and a guy with a spiked, medieval gauntlet at his disposal to murderize people.  The cast seems to be enjoying themselves with such convoluted hoopla, though as always it is difficult to tell where Klaus Kinski is concerned, who plays twin brothers and seems almost physically incapable of producing a smile unless it is for the utmost disturbing of purposes.  The plot is so nimble that at times it is difficult to keep up and at the end of the day, a generous amount of it falls apart under a microscope.  It is certainly entertaining though in a kooky, amusing way, using its more gruesome components as fun window dressing while letting the rather absurd story take center stage.

60's Foreign Horror Part Three

THE VIRGIN SPRING
(1960)
Dir - Ingmar Bergman
Overall: GOOD

As ground zero for the rape and revenge film, Ingmar Bergman's The Virgin Spring, (Jungfrukällan), does not qualify as a horror movie, but only as an unbeknownst origin for such plot components that later filmmakers would utilize to exploitative means.  This does nothing to lessen the impact of the film though; one of the most stark and intelligible of the director's career.  Based off the 13th century ballad "Töres döttrar i Wänge" about a respected Christian whose wife and three daughters are raped and murdered by three highwaymen, (here changed to three herdsmen and but one daughter, his only), it explores guilt and the juxtaposition of Norse, pagan rituals and Christian faith.  The literal spring of the movie's title signifies the victim's innocence, only emerging after the deeds are done and the remorse of those surviving has questioned the existence of any sort of god or magic at all.  This marked the second collaboration between Bergman and screenwriter Ulla Isaksson and the first with cinematographer Sven Nykvist who he would continue to work with.  Its blunt, overall direct presentation makes it as emotionally compelling as anything Sweden's greatest filmmaker ever made.

THE DEAD EYES OF LONDON
(1961)
Dir - Alfred Vohrer
Overall: MEH

A West German crime film set in England and dubbed in English by people mostly with American accents, The Dead Eyes of London, (Die toten Augen von London, Dark Eyes of London), was an adaptation of the Edgar Wallace novel of the same name, the Bela Lugosi-stared British version proceeding it by twenty-two years.  Director Alfred Vohrer helmed a handful of other films based off of Wallace's works, this being the first of them.  Focusing far more on the police investigation aspects of the story than any horror ones present in the 1939 version, it stylistically dips its toes into more macabre visuals with low angle framing, a heavy use of shadowy lighting, and creepy shots of hairy hands reaching out for doomed victims.  A few other odd, embellishments such as a POV shot from the inside of someones mouth while spraying their teeth and a skeleton cigarette dispenser keep it at least visually quirky.  There is also a young Klaus Kinski playing a, (of course), scuzzy low life which is always a plus.  Still, for a German film made only a few short years before they would begin their own cinematic New Wave, the plot is rather progressively confounding and it all inevitably comes off as a bit dated in both presentation and subject matter, as many in the German krimi genre inevitably were.

SPIRITS OF THE DEAD
(1968)
Dir - Robert Vadim/Louis Malle/Federico Fellini
Overall: GOOD

This Italian/French co-production from Alberto Grimaldi and Raymond Eger thankfully nabbed three prominent enough directors who rarely if at all worked in the horror genre, Robert Vadim, Louis Malle, and Federico Fellini.  The resulting Spirits of the Dead, (Tre passi nel delirio, Histoires extraordinaires), is based on yet another combination of stories from Edgar Allan Poe, easily the most cinematically adapted horror author of the 1960s if not ever.  Each segment is a loose interpretation at best, (which is nothing new), and each centers around a character recklessly indulging in debauchery.  Though all three directors have established themselves as having a unique voice behind the lens, for an anthology film, it impressively has a consistent, ethereal tone which links them all rather ideally.  Naturally being an anthology film in the first place, there are highlights and admitted downspots.  Each section could afford to shave off five to ten minutes, give or take.  Even the best of them, (which would be Fellini's "Toby Dammit", acting as more nightmarish version of 8 1/2 and La Dolce Vita in vivid color), overstays its welcome just a bit.  Visually though, the entire movie is superb and an expertly dreary, arthouse horror template to continue to take note of.

60s Foreign Horror Part Two

CAVE OF THE LIVING DEAD
(1964)
Dir - Ákos Ráthonyi
Overall: MEH

One starts to sound like a broken record when pointing out how so few low-budget, B-movies of the horror variety had any capacity whatsoever to pick up the damn pace.  Hungarian director Ákos Ráthonyi's Cave of the Living Dead, (Der Fluch der grünen Augen, Night of the Vampires), is a criminal-level offender of this particular cinematic faux pas.  In the hands of a skilled filmmaker who can propel their story without the use of a musical score and through sheer control of tone and mood, the results can be exceptional.  In the case of Cave of the Living Dead, the mostly dialog-only soundtrack gives it a catastrophically lifeless flow.  There are attempts at humor, sexual undertones, and issues of race are even touched upon, but the presentation is so comatose that they barely register.  Likewise, a small handful of spooky, vampiric visuals are peppered throughout which look rather good on their own, but the film is almost entirely driven by very meandering and frequently embarrassing dialog as a skeptical, wise-ass detective investigates a small village full of superstitious folk, uncovering the goings on in the most tedious of manners.

BLOOD OF THE VIRGINS
(1967)
Dir - Emilio Vieyra
Overall: MEH

Argentine-born, exploitation director Emilio Vieyra's take on the vampire genre with Blood of the Virgins, (Sangre de vírgenes), is full of naked boobs, unconvincing fangs, no budget sets, agonizingly long scenes that serve no narrative purpose, and swinging music that evokes absolutely no fear whatsoever.  So essentially, the usual checklist of Euro-horror cliches from the era.  Outside of a rather nifty, animated opening title sequence, there is virtually no visual flair.  The film is photographed incredibly bland with vampires walking around in fully lit rooms and crystal clear daylight.  The only idea Vieyra seems to have to spice anything up is a couple red-light shots of a bird that is supposed to be a bat probably and of course a bag fool of zooms used as leisurely as possible.  The script, (also by Vieyra), is uninspired enough to be borderline awful, with what seems like less set pieces than can be counted on one hand featuring any kind of undead activity in the first place.  Instead, it is mostly just people slowly walking around, very, very slowly having sex, sitting around, talking to each other, driving, and then walking around slowly a few more times just to make sure enough slow walking around is caught on camera.

MANEATER OF HYDRA
(1967)
Dir - Ernst Ritter von Theumer
Overall: MEH

Making foliage seem sinister on screen is quite an uphill battle.  It is even worse when the budget is working against you and the best you can muster is a few close ups of rubbery branches and vines while victims simply stand there either transfixed or screaming, (but of course never moving an inch out of the way).  This is not the only ailment that the Spanish-German co-production Maneater of Hydra, (La isla de la muerte, Island of the Doomed, and The Blood Suckers), suffers from.  Very little suspense is mustered since the kill scenes come off not only as non-threatening as possible, but are also few and far between.  The characters are all boring and poorly dubbed, none more than an elderly photographer with a Jewish accent that makes her sound absolutely ridiculous when she is delivering cryptic dialog or screaming hysterically about a murderer.  Cameron Mitchell plays another cookie-cutter mad scientist who mutates man-eating plants for no reason, with a grand scheme involving being nice to his vacationing guests while waiting for them to get close enough to his malevolent shrubs to stand there and do nothing while they attack them.  It is a dud from top to bottom and a B-movie wholly worthy of being laughed at, not with.

60's Foreign Horror Part One

THE MASK
(1961)
Dir - Julian Roffman
Overall: MEH

Having the distinction of being the first horror film ever produced in Canada, The Mask, (re-released as Eyes of Hell for television in the early 80s), was the second and last feature made by Julian Roffman.  Besides its historical significance, the film is notable for its tour de force 3-D sequences designed by Serbian-born montagist Slavko Vorkapich.  A hallucinatory hybrid of images based off ancient civilization temples and costumes as well as macabre weirdness such as fire breaking priests, robed figures wearing featureless face-masks, a haunted canoe ride with hands protruding from the water, otherworldly noises and screams, spiders, fogs, zombies and the like, all three scenes where the psychiatrist Dr. Allan Barnes puts on the unholy headgear are strikingly fantastic.  It is a shame then that every other aspect of the movie including the entire plot is persistently unexciting.  While the title mask casts a diabolical spell over its wearer once released back into the real world, the only thing it manages to unleash for the rest of us is a steady stream of arbitrary boredom and slightly melodramatic acting.  Whenever it is time to put on the 3-D glasses, the movie could not be more superb, but do not expect it to deliver in any other respects.

THE BLOOD DEMON
(1967)
Dir - Harold Reinl
Overall: GOOD

The Blood Demon, (Die Schlangengrube und das Pendel, The Torture Chamber of Dr. Sadism, The Snake Pit and the Pendulum, and Castle of the Walking Dead), is a West German, barely-qualifying adaptation of Edgar Alan Poe's The Pit and Pendulum by Austrian director Harold Reinl.  While it drags a bit too much as could be expected, it is also visually magnificent.  The set design by art directors Gabriel Pellon and Rolf Zehetbauer are a Gothic horror fan's wet dream with intricate sets full of ghoulish paintings, dungeon contraptions, bizarre decor, and of course cobwebs, fog, and Mario Bava-esque lighting all being liberally used.  Unfortunately, otherwise excellent, spooky images like a trek through a haunted forest where human limbs are literally protruding out of trees and a slew of bodies hanging from nooses are undermined by the horse and cart just carrying on through them after the driver refuses to go on about eighty-seven times without anyone listening to him or seeing any of the crystal clear, macabre evidence on display.  If the film was not so beautifully creepy to look at and full of such dark, strange set pieces, its sluggish pacing, lazy script, and unintentional humor would probably undue it.  Still though, Christopher Lee is in it too so go sports!

HOUR OF THE WOLF
(1968)
Dir - Ingmar Bergman
Overall: GREAT

While Ingmar Berman was no stranger to utilizing macabre and certainly heavily surreal imagery throughout his work, he never embraced these elements more collaboratively than in his follow up to Persona, Hour of the Wolf.  The first part in the unofficial Fårö trilogy, (which was proceeded by Shame and The Passion of Anna), it also has much in common with its predecessor Persona in its fourth wall breaking and examination of twisted realities and identities.  As was usually the case, Bergman himself was working out his own personal issues, namely his doubts, fears, and confusion as an artist as well as his relationship with actress Liv Ullmann after having left his wife.  All of this manifests via overlapping, expressionistic scenes combining folklore, other literary works, paintings, operas, and Bergman's own nightmares.  The film is sparse on music, but uses its soundtrack in an intentionally narrative fashion; every sound contributing explicitly to its emotional nature.  Look no further than when Ullmann and Max von Sydow arrive at their summer island and the motor of the boat that brought them is primarily heard as they empty their supplies, we watch the boat slowly disappear behind a rock formation, and then a harsh cut to the couple trudging uphill with the wheels of their cart signifying that they are now alone and cut off.  Bergman has so many paramount works in his filmography that it is understandable to short-end Hour of the Wolf amongst them, but it is unmistakably a significant one all the same.