(1970)
Dir - José Luis Merino
Overall: WOOF
A wretchedly boring, run-of-the-mill Euro-Gothic nudie, Scream of the Demon Lover, (Il castello dalle porte di fuoco, Ivanna), is nothing but cliches front to back and only for those ravenous enough to find no error in such a trait. Laboratories, murdered village maidens, a devilish yet charming Barron, a hideous monster, a torture chamber, a disapproving housekeeper, a castle that the townsfolk are afraid of with mysterious locked doors inside, dubbing that is not good, pacing that could not be in less of a hurry, and possibly more camera zooms than Jamaica has mangos, it never lets up on the vapid, hackneyed horror tropes. As a Spanish-Italian co-production with actors from each country, (given anglicized names for US release), the performances transcend the stock dubbing at least which is about the only mild positive you can grant it. If you are looking for boobs and gore, it is not very plentiful in either, but rest assured, a woman does almost get raped of course because why wouldn't such a moment like that happen?
(1972)
Dir - Francisco Lara Polop
Overall: MEH
Taking your sweet ass time making a horror movie, well, seem like a horror movie is a risky undertaking. Acting as the debut from Spanish filmmaker Francisco Lara Polop, (who did not make another horror film until his last, 1990's The Monk), Manic Mansion, (La mansión de la niebla, Murder Mansion), is not likely to blow anybody's mind with its first two meandering acts. Even with tired tropes like characters getting lost in the fog and holding up in a mysterious castle, women going in to shock just because they were told a vaguely disturbing story, creepy passages leading to creepy crypts, and a convoluted, Scooby-Doo worthy plot to drive people crazy with would-be supernatural shenanigans, so little happens of any interest for so long that by the time the movie starts really indulging in its cliches, you have forgotten what the mystery was supposed to be. It is all in fact so unendurably boring though that it is almost impossible to tell that there is a mystery going on in the first place. It perhaps could have been a more pleasantly unique, contemporarily set bit of Gothic horror otherwise, but too little, too generic, too late.
(1975)
Dir - Miguel Madrid
Overall: GOOD
A positively weird, Spanish semi-giallo, The Killer of Dolls, (El asesino de muñecas, Killing of the Dolls), is the second of only three films directed by Miguel Madrid, here going by the name Michael Skaife. It focuses on an odd, young, thin, hairy, effeminate, Norman Bates stand-in who wears a woman's mask and wig, likes to take lots of baths and showers, hallucinates mannequins and dolls everywhere, and naturally enjoys murdering and fondling people because a woman in a mirror tells him to. He is also a surgical school reject who got kicked out for being afraid of blood. Indulging in hazy dream sequences and impatient editing, Madrid keeps up a remarkably frenzied pace that is rarely not burdensome for a change. The film's overall presentation is quite manic, fusing the usual elements of overtly dramatic acting, colorful set and costume design, zooms, nonsensical plotting, and a dated, porn-worthy soundtrack that also includes a fittingly random rock music sequence that is as ridiculous as anything else going on. This is not one that is particularly easy to keep up with, but that is also certainly part of its fun. It is a shame that Madrid was behind the lens on so few occasions as his work here is eccentric enough to take note of.
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