Lion (2017)

Some of you who have been with me long enough might remember me covering two short horror films, The Puzzle (2008) and The Sweet Hand of the White Rose (2010), from Italian filmmaker Davide Melini (assistant director for Dario Argento’s Mother of Tears (2008), Penny Dreadful and Into the Badlands). These were pretty good and provided me with a new experience in reviewing movies much shorter than I was used to. I also briefly spotlighted Melini’s supernatural horror/giallo hybrid Deep Shock (2019) back when it was still in pre-production. The film was delayed for quite some time but was eventually released in 2019. It has a cool classic and modern feel to it with a brutal bathroom murder scene that is worthy of the giallo style film it is celebrating.  

Davide Melini’s horror short from the UK titled Lion is boasted as being the most awarded horror short film in history. It feels like a runaway award effect is taking place with the film, as it is now up to a staggering 902 awards – which are individually posted on the film’s socials. 

 

After being attracted by the comic book style color scheme of the poster art by Manuel Espinosa Quiros, I went into Lion cold, and what I got was quite the brutal haunting, with an ethereal lion and a gory, albeit surreal, aftermath, with a tender close out. It’s a satisfying take on cosmic justice, but I also like to think that the supernatural violence that transpires could also be viewed, perhaps, as the mistreated child's fantasy. 

As a fan of mood setting intro credits, I did enjoy the impressive detailed galaxy and constellation visuals over the relaxing and regal sounding theme song (by Francesco Tresca) that also plays the film out during the end credits.

 

Lion stars Pedro Sánchez, Tania Mercader, and Michael Segal (who I fondly remember from the Italian Lovecraft adaptations from Ivan Zuccon, particularly The Shunned House (2003) and Colour from the Dark (2008).) Here, Segál is chewing the scenery as a drunken abusive father lost in his cups (beer cans). He’s kind of a caricature of the familiar alcoholic father always planted in front of the TV. He is nonetheless frightfully intimidating.

Sánchez plays the poor vulnerable child with no escape, and Mercader is the complicit mother. My favorite part is the suspenseful stalking scene with the mother in the bedroom. 

 

Lion is surprisingly original. Unlike Deep Shock, it doesn’t seem to feature any obvious homages to Argento. Although, Lamberto Bava’s Demons 2 does briefly come to mind during a certain pivotal moment. 

With a meager twelve-minute runtime, Lion wastes no time in telling its story that benefits from tight editing (Daniel Salinas) and slick cinematography (Juanma Postigo). It’s enjoyable, brief, and to the point without feeling the need to squeeze in too many ideas. It’s not a typical stalk and kill horror film but more of a power fantasy ghost story that I wasn’t anticipating. It’s a solid addition to Melini’s collection of short films. Here’s to a full-length feature for Melini someday. 

© At the Mansion of Madness

 

Lion is currently available to watch on Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/video/detail/B088ZM366G/ref=atv_sr_def_c_unkc__2_1  

 

Arcana (1972)

“That’s twentieth-century progress for you; we can put a man on the moon, but we can’t find a few simple ingredients to do a magic trick.” – Captain Manzini  

If magic is real, then it isn’t obvious. It will probably never lend itself to definitive proof but rather reserve itself more for personal interpretation that depends on the hopes, beliefs, and dreams of the individual. Be it paranormal or psychological, magic spells can provide a lot of symbolic meaning, clarity, and guidance for the caster. 

Giulio Questi’s inventive, esoteric, enchanted sorcery of a film, Arcana, is an unforgettable experience that I like to think is a magic spell itself. The effects of that spell really start to hit at about the one hour and fourteen-minute mark (when that hypnotic violin theme kicks in) and we get a peculiar standout segment in the film that is unlike anything else. The film also does a good job at capturing the appeal and mystique of tarot in both the divination reading scenes and in the unfolding of its mystifying plot. 

Diary of an Erotic Murderess / La encadenada (1975)

Let’s keep the femme fatale thrillers rolling with the penultimate movie as director for Spanish filmmaker Manuel Mur Oti, Diary of an Erotic Murderess, starring Marisa Mell in the lead role as a seductive killer con woman. Despite being a true villain in the story, there’s something really likeable about her in this. She’s not a sympathetic villain, although she might try to incite sympathy, and she really isn’t redeemable in any way, but she’s still appealing. Perhaps that’s just a testament to the power of the outward charm and beauty of the femme fatale.

How many of you like to think you can change her? or that she might make a special exception in your case? and maybe you just might survive your romantic but likely deadly sojourn with her, with your fortune and life still intact? It’s a fun idea that I usually have when watching this movie, but it’s not very realistic considering it doesn’t go well for her partners in crime. Joking aside, this one also does get pretty dark. 

It shouldn’t be surprising that Diary of an Erotic Murderess is a treat for fans of Marisa Mell and her Italian and Spanish swindler thrillers like Perversion Story (1969), Marta (1971), The Great Swindle (1971), and Death Will Have Your Eyes (1974). She’s great in it, and it’s just as good as another of my favorites Marta, which has a similar concept but is told quite differently.

Diabolicamente... Letizia / Sex, Demons and Death (1975)

“The oppressed have assimilated their fate so well that they become indignant if we offer them a less repressed sexual future.” – Emmanuelle Arsan – Mon Emmanuelle, leur pape et mon Eros  

The name Letizia means “joy,” and one can’t help but feel joy when a name like Letizia rolls off the tongue. So, there’s a bitter irony to the title character of Salvatore Bugnatelli’s Diabolicamente… Letizia baring the sweetness of joyful pleasure only to turn out to be quite the devilish killjoy.

Diabolicamente… Letizia (also known as Sex, Demons and Death) is another peculiar erotic Italian horror that kind of stuck with me after only seeing it once about six years ago. There is something off-kilter and ominous about it, with a repressive, isolated autumnal villa setting involving a capricious young woman, Letizia (Franca Gonella- Zelda 1974), moving in and sexually perturbing the idle and seemingly peaceful lifestyles of her Aunt Micaela (Magda Konopka) and Uncle Marcello (Gabriele Tinti). The resulting erotic situations are intentionally built up only to push back and break the spell with some sort of unease, be it emotional confliction, humiliation, mockery, or even a jump scare, brought about by the sexually manipulative Letizia. Is she really some kind of sexual she-wolf demoness or do these characters have some serious hangups?

La lunga notte di Veronique / But You Were Dead (1966)

“There are two kinds of taste, the taste for emotions of surprise and the taste for emotions of recognition.” – Henry James 

Even with its familiar look (that darkly romantic title and poster art baiting me in), I could still sense La lunga notte de Veronique was going to be a little bit different than the ‘60s/’70s Italian gothic horrors I’m accustomed to (and still a big fan of). No obvious Poe, Le Fanu, Stoker, Lovecraft, Shelley, or Sade influences. No witches, black masses, zombies, blood countesses, demons, masked killers, sadistic crimson executioners, or satanic love interests, just an effective, tragic ghost romance, without much in the way of ambiguity. 

Currently, it doesn’t seem to have much of a fanbase, but the film is lowkey intriguing. I only just came across it recently, and it is somewhat of a pleasant surprise and a nice addition to the ever-growing collection of underseen Eurocult that will hopefully see a restored release someday. 

Shadow of Illusion / Ombre roventi (1970)

“I understand those who want to live against this century, but I fear those who believe they can live outside of it.” – Emmanuelle Arsan – Mon Emmanuelle, leur pape et mon Eros  

Cults erect out of myth. Myth gives rise to cults. Their members become so enamored in myth that they become grossly detached from reality. Yet, they’ll maintain a strong conviction and belief that they are the ones who are really in tune with reality, above all others. And when this happens, people get hurt.

For fans of ‘60s/70s Italian thrillers, it’s the prospect of a deadly hippie cult that gives a film like Shadow of Illusion its primary appeal to genre explorers, and while that promising aspect might bring us here, we end up finding even more to like about it. One of the film’s strong points is that it does integrate Egyptian mythology, particularly The Osiris Myth, into its plot rather nicely, even to the point of provoking further viewer interest.  

Shadow of Illusion is directed by Mario Caiano (Nightmare Castle (1965) and Eye in the Labyrinth (1972)) and is quite the excavation for the Eurocult archeologist. It is indeed an enjoyable but unusual watch that kind of feels at home alongside other paranoid Italian occult thrillers like All the Colors of the Dark (1972), The Cat in Heat (1972), or even The Perfume of the Lady in Black (1974).

The Unnaturals / Schreie in der Nacht (1969)

When poring over the impressively diverse range of genre films from Antonio Margheriti, I realize there’s still a lot more I need to see. I have more blind spots here than I care to admit. I plan on eventually rectifying this issue in good time, maybe starting with some of the derivative sounding ‘80s action/adventure stuff like The Last Blood (1983) or The Ark of the Sun God (1984). I do have a soft spot for retro space movies, so something like Assignment: Outer Space (1960), Margheriti’s first full film as director, would probably make my day. I have been a big fan of Margheriti’s exquisite gothic horror films for quite some time (no surprise there), and I’ve been itching to review one of his least talked about (as far as I can tell) gothic horrors, The Unnaturals / Contronatura. 

I thought this German / Italian co-production kind of had a classic comic book feel to it (something kind of in the vein of EC’s Crime SuspenStories). It’s also been compared to the krimi thriller, with all the fixings of a crime fueled storyline, only instead of a detective or Scotland Yard, the criminal foil and justice comes in the form of the supernatural beyond. There’s also no denying that the 1920s setting, primarily in a gloomy haunted mansion during a long meditative séance, hosted by none other than Luciano Pigozzi, with a bunch of stranded shady characters seeking shelter on a dark and stormy night is gothic horror as fuck. This is the kind of gathering that I consider a good time.

Night of the Damned / La notte dei dannati (1971)

“Thank Heaven! The crisis / The danger is past, and the lingering illness, is over at last /, and the fever called “Living” is conquered at last.” Edgar Allan Poe 

Horror films are more traditionally associated with anxiety and sleepless nights. Funny, then, how we tend to look towards horror sometimes to wind down after the day. Now, I love to be scared and shocked just as much as any horror fan, but what about a horror film that can have the opposite effect, one that puts you to sleep through relaxation and comfort? Thanks to the usual languid pace and soothing dark ambiance, a lot of older gothic horror films can serve as a pretty good example of this, such as the gothic literary mashup Night of the Damned. 

Directed by Filippo Walter Ratti and written by Aldo Marcovecchio, Night of the Damned is a quaint little ‘70s Italian gothic horror that hits a lot of the right notes when it comes to style, mood, and atmosphere. Sure, there is better to pick from, but something about this film made me want to revisit and connect with it on a deeper level. The Poe-inspired world is worth getting lost in, and it appeals to my love for the supernatural femme fatales who reign from their remote dark castles, with the occult and hedonistic rituals that usually accompany them.