Love and Death in the Garden of the Gods (1972)

Being a conversation heavy drama mystery with a bit of a dreamy languor about it, Love and Death in the Garden of the Gods may require a little focus from viewers if they hope to get absorbed in its compelling story, beautiful scenery, and tragic characters, but it is worth it. The plot is more or less structured to be an exploration of a hazy backstory that slowly crystalizes before eventually catching up with the present.

The film is directed by Sauro Scavolini, a prolific screenwriter (All the Colors of the Dark, amongst many others) with few directing credits. He is the brother of director Romano Scavolini (Nightmares in a Damaged Brain), who also helmed cinematography for Love and Death in the Garden of the Gods.

The story is fed to us in fragmented bits and pieces from an inquisitive Professor of ornithology (Franz von Treuberg), restoring and listening to a heap of tangled audio recording tape he discovered in the forest outside the villa he’s rented to study the non-indigenous birds of the region. As the Professor listens to the tape recordings, the film cuts to flashbacks of the previous inhabitants of the villa, making the place seem haunted by a past that is both alarming and fascinating. While the past is the primary setting of the story, the film still emphases events in the present, particularly the relation between the professor and the seedy estate administrator, Dominici (Vittorio Duse), giving the Professor dimension and making him more than just an avenue of backstory disclosure.

The Night Evelyn Came Out of the Grave (1971)

Even with the gory movie poster and the seductively macabre title, movie theaters thought this film could use a little extra hype during its premiere, by serving red popcorn, otherwise known as bloodcorn. Moviegoers were then probably expecting a gratuitously bloody show of a female zombie getting vengeance with some of the craziest and most terrifying scenes of which the world had never seen before on the big screen. What they got instead was a slow burning mystery and a lot of time spent with a mentally ill mind. Oh how they must’ve been disappointed….   

Similar to Emilio Miraglia’s own THE RED QUEEN KILLS 7 TIMES, THE NIGHT EVELYN CAME OUT OF THE GRAVE establishes itself as a giallo just as much as it does a modern Gothic horror piece. It contains all of the conventional trappings of Gothic horror, such as the creepy mansion, supernatural themes, a séance, and a promise that something will rise from the grave, a promise that the movie admirably keeps. But, it also has a fair share of that addictive ‘70s modern look; with the European nightclubs, swinging parties, sexy divas, and a brutal faceless killer, giving it an undeniable giallo feel. Fans of both genres that haven’t checked this out yet, really should, and anyone that has already seen it, should take the coming analysis as an attempt to make you want to watch this again.   

Experiencing grief for the loss of his deceased wife, Evelyn, formerly institutionalized nobleman, Lord Alan Cunningham (Anthony Steffen), finds solace by frequenting the London night scene, in search of something or someone new. However, there is an added facet to his inner-torment and that is the reoccurring and haunting memories of when his once precious Evelyn was disloyal to him. 

The Devil's Nightmare (1971), Starring Erika Blanc

It is believed that Succubi repeatedly visit men in their dreams and upon paralyzing them engage in nocturnal intercourse whilst draining their life and vitality until they wake up dead. I am writing to you all today to relate my encounter with a Succubus during one of my somnambulant journeys. It’s a miracle that I survived the horrific encounter with that unwholesome she devil to write to you these words today. Of course, I am talking about my encounter with the fiery redheaded, blazing hot demon from Jean Brismée’s “THE DEVIL’S NIGHTMARE”.

In this film, Erika Blanc stars as a homicidal Succubus prowling a twelfth century castle luring the film's various characters to their dooms. The brooding feminine threat in the movie is personified with a theme song consisting of moody haunting female vocals that the Succubus herself would surely approve of.

Filmed in Sepia with WWII stock footage interspersed between scenes, the start of this nightmare is a brilliant segment set in 1945 Berlin during one of the bloodiest battles in human history. While the battle is raging outside, a maid/midwife is nursing the Baroness, who is in labor. 2 uniformed men are nearby; one of these men is the Baron von Rhoneberg, looking fairly agitated, and the other is his servant Hans. The Baroness eventually passes away while giving birth, and even after the Baron realizes his wife has just died, he still seems to be deeply troubled by something else (and it’s not the fall off the Third Reich). When he learns that the baby is not a boy, he sends everyone away in order to be alone with his newborn daughter. Afterwards, he says a prayer, takes out a knife, and commits a dastardly deed…. What on Earth could compel a man to do such a thing?!!