Murder Obsession (1981)

I sometimes wonder if evil is inherent in every one of us. Some say that evil does not exist at all, and what we call evil is merely the absence or lack of good. But what is it that compels one to want to do harm to another with a complete disregard for the viewpoint of the victim? Anger, jealously, or possibly just a primal instinct to inflict pain? The wicked and malevolent being that could potentially lurk deep down inside of us is brought to the forefront in MURDER OBSESSION.  

Riccardo Freda’s last directorial feature may be flawed, but it is one beautiful looking movie where familiar and highly significant genre actors such as BLACK SUNDAY’s John Richardson, BLACK EMANUELLE’s Laura Gemser, and giallo favorite Anita Strindberg (her last starring role) come together in a dark and mysterious series of murders, ceremonies, and somnambulant wanderings in a secluded villa. With its modern Gothic setting and indulgently directed sequences, MURDER OBSESSION feels like an exceptional finale from the man who brought the world the pioneering Italian horror effort I VAMPIRI and the unsurpassed and hypnotically psychedelic bloodbath in TRAGIC CEREMONY. The film effectively establishes the right mood by forcing a throwback to candlelight on account of the mansion’s electrical wiring malfunctioning, and along with the rich and vibrant colors as well as the lead character’s hairstyle and mustachio; the overall feeling is like a ‘60s Gothic in an ‘80s movie. Two of my favorite things… 

While playing the role of a killer during the filming of a movie, the lead character, Michael (Stefano Patrizi), is introduced as a movie star and a shady person when he takes the method-acting technique a little too far by nearly strangling his co-star, Beryl (Gemser). Although he might not be the most appealing or likable, the unease brought on by the character of Michael makes for an interesting lead that may or may not have a dormant impulse for murder. This creates one of surprisingly few red herrings in a murder mystery plot with pretty vicious death scenes where everyone dies except for the killer and one other final character, resulting in one of those fun horrific endings that is like Oh my god!  How could you!?  No….  Nooooooooooo!!!!  Roll end credits. 

The House That Screamed / La residencia (1969)

From Antonio Margheriti’s NAKED YOU DIE to Lucky McKee’s THE WOODS, the all-girl boarding school setting in a horror/thriller film is sort of an inviting and seductive guilty pleasure for me. The obvious appeal is the excuse to overflow the film with attractive female actors, but localizing storyline events into a gloomy and Gothic architecture has a lot of potential, especially when it is a claustrophobic and oppressive place with an overwhelming feeling of being cut-off, as if the outside world doesn’t even matter or exist anymore.   

What sets Narciso Ibáñez Serrador’s LA RESIDENCIA, aka THE HOUSE THAT SCREAMED, apart from most boarding school horror is its authentic nineteenth century setting, several interesting themes to explore, and an ambition for exploiting violence and odd sexual themes that seemed ahead of its time for 1969. The ambiance as well as the characters' costumes and mannerisms effectively transport the viewer to a different and melancholic world in an older era. The film’s body-count may be a little low, but things are exceptionally macabre and grim, with a certain character’s late night demise in a greenhouse being unexpectedly crowd pleasing and so beautifully and artistically filmed that Dario Argento would likely be impressed. Void of pomposity while having a lot of interesting character interaction and depth, and surprisingly little faults to identify, LA RESIDENCIA is a really well-made, classy, and high-quality movie. It did get the Elvira treatment, though, but we won’t go there.   

Something unusual but commendable is the manner in which the film proceeds after the protagonist attempts to escape the school. Due to a particular event that occurs, the final twenty-two minutes roll on in a way that is a very bold and risky move by the filmmakers and is usually something that is generally avoided in storytelling. I’ve only ever seen it happen in one other movie, which I won’t name because I don’t want to give it away, but it definitely adds to the unique flavor of the film. 

Dellamorte Dellamore / Cemetery Man (1994)

One can't help but wonder what cemetery watchman Francesco Dellamorte (Rupert Everett) would have had to of done in his past life to have to constantly lose his love, over and over again, in Michele Soavi’s darkly poetic and comical DELLAMORTE DELLAMORE. Could it be that Francesco is being punished by Death himself in an attempt to drive him to the breaking point so he’ll stop shooting the dead and instead do Death’s work for him by killing the living?   

I remember going into this expecting a zombie movie, but I ended up enjoying and appreciating it on a number of different levels, with the zombies being the part I cared the least about in the long run. Love and death are the main themes here and the zombies are merely a backdrop to the story and end up becoming the least important element. It is like this is a zombie movie that isn’t primarily about zombies.   

There is an eminent cycle of ironic plays on life and death all throughout this film. Consider the brilliant intro when Francesco is having one of his evening chats over the phone with his only other living associate that ever calls him. He is interrupted by a knock at the door and after opening it, without being alarmed at all, Francesco gazes at a slightly rotting visitor for a mere few seconds before shooting him in the head, point blank, and all the while looking very bored. After the person on the other line asks how things are with him, Francesco calmly replies with “You know how things are (exhales cigarette smoke), life goes on” to which the camera travels out the front door to a beautiful view of the Buffalora Cemetery. Cue the opening credits.  

Bravissimo Soavi! That’s how you start a movie.

Orgasmo (1969)

Those who may only know him from his terribly cheesy ‘80s outings like NIGHTMARE CITY and GHOSTHOUSE or his violent cannibal jungle adventures, should know that director Umberto Lenzi also directed a number of crime, Eurospy, and giallo films that are considered to be very respectable and accomplished. What I like best are his giallo films from the late ‘60s and early ’70s, and so, if you thought the cannibal movies were too distasteful or that NIGHTMARE CITY was ultra-sucky (not me) and crime films just aren’t your thing, then perhaps what you may’ve been missing all along are some of his terrific gialli, like SEVEN BLOOD STAINED ORCHIDS, KNIFE OF ICE, SPASMO or one I recently enjoyed for the first time, ORGASMO, which sadly, unlike SPASMO, doesn’t include paranoid cries of the enigmatic movie title in its trailer. It was actually released as PARANOIA in America, which adds a good deal of confusion because following the success of the film in America, Lenzi made another movie called PARANOIA in Italy that was released as A QUIET PLACE TO KILL in the US, resulting in two movies called PARANOIA made roughly around the same time. Adding further confusion is the fact that both films star the flamboyant sex icon Carroll Baker as the leading actress. Ah, title confusion… What better way to nerd out on films?

  

Recently widowed and wealthy Kathryn West (Carroll Baker) has moved from America to a lonely villa in Italy. Detached from her past and looking to live a quiet life of peace and isolation, her only form of contact and company now is her lawyer, a stern housemaid, and a deaf gardener. Kathryn finds herself attracted to a young stranger whose motor happens to breakdown in front of her house one day and is seduced and charmed into letting the young man and his sister stay with her. Once she is hooked in, both brother and sister, and surely some other outside influence, mess with her sanity in cruel and evil ways that drive her mad.

   

So, she was alright as a witch in BABA YAGA and a distressed dame in SO SWEET… SO PERVERSE, she displayed fairly interesting acting in KNIFE OF ICE without delivering any lines on account of playing a mute character, and she had an Academy Award nominated role in BABY DOLL, but for a while now I’ve usually wondered: what’s so great about Carroll Baker? Well, read on to find out.

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. 

All the Colors of the Dark (1972)

In this delirious piece by director Sergio Martino, viewers are granted the pleasure to spend, literally, the entire movie with actress Edwige Fenech, as Jane. 

Childhood trauma and a miscarriage, as a result of a car accident one year ago, has resulted in Jane’s mental instability. She lately seems to be spending a lot of time at home now, smoking and drinking while waiting around for her lover, Richard (George Hilton), who’s out working most of the time. Our introduction to Jane in the movie sees her waking up from a bewitchingly filmed nightmare, full of symbolic hints to her troubles, and in a daze, she walks into the shower while still in her nightgown. 

Is this a symbolic and desperate attempt for Jane to wash away what is grieving her, or is it just a chance for Fenech to get wet? I’d say definitely both, which is part of what makes ALL THE COLORS OF THE DARK so pleasurable. It is not just an empty ploy for mindless sex and violence, you see, but the film is just as sexy as it is intelligent, head spinning, macabre, and psychedelic. 

Fenech is sort of the main attraction, whose pleasing looks, vulnerability, and pleasant company carries the proceedings rather well, but the movie is also packed with notable Euro-genre actors who contribute to the show, also, such as the frequent Fenech co-stars George Hilton and Ivan Rassimov, and giallo divas Marinna Malfatti and Nieves Navarro, the latter being a fantastic and groundbreaking lead herself in DEATH WALKS AT MIDNIGHT. 

Messiah of Evil (1973)

MESSIAH OF EVIL is an unusual and artistic low-budget American horror film with a fanciful script that results in a surreal and nightmarish sensibility that feels more like ‘70s Euro-horror, causing it to be either fondly remembered or easily forgotten, depending on the viewer’s taste. Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz’s (the couple that brought us HOWARD THE DUCK and scripted AMERICAN GRAFFITI) ode to madness is probably not everyone’s cup of tea, but with its odd nature and unique horror sequences, the easy to find, but still relatively unknown or unloved, MESSIAH OF EVIL just begs to be blogged about. 

The start almost feels like some sort of one minute film project tacked on at the beginning. The scene of a man running from something unexplained and into a homicidal little girl with a razor blade seemed misleading and unnecessary and ends up being completely forgotten later on since it really has no connection to anything. Things get more interesting quickly, after a short sub-credit sequence, with a shot of a blurry asylum hallway and a woman’s obscure figure walking towards us, slowly, as if she is sleep walking. A woman’s unstable voice, no-doubt crazy from what we are in for, openly narrates a coming threat, calmly at first and slowly builds up to a maddening crescendo. Whether she is talking to herself or narrating to the viewers is unclear, but much like the film, this part is open to interpretation and starts things off beautifully, unlike the tacky throat slashing that occurred before. 

After that terrific intro, we move to Arletty, played by Marianna Hill, driving to the seaside town of Pointe Dune where her father resides. She is concerned about his recent silence and increasingly drastic letters. When she arrives, her father is missing and she is left to ponder the strange situation with journal entries and letters left behind by her father in his bizarre and necrotic house by the sea. 

The Nude Vampire (1970)

THE NUDE VAMPIRE has a lot going for it and is just as enjoyable as other early efforts from Jean Rollin (THE SHIVER OF THE VAMPIRES and REQUIEM FOR A VAMPIRE) and is a masterpiece that I can’t help thinking ends up not getting the love it deserves on account of its low production and bizarre ‘out there’ feel; although it is getting a Blu-ray release this January along with a few other Rollin favorites. 

A mysterious woman, Caroline Cartier, is stalked in the middle of the night by strange pursuers with animal masks. She runs into a well-dressed young gentleman, Pierre, played by Olivier Rollin (Rollin’s half-brother), who senses she is in danger and attempts to help her out but with no such luck, as she is eventually shot by her masked pursuers and carried away to a clubhouse that happens to belong to Pierre's father, Radamante, Maurice Lemaitre, where nicely dressed people seem to aggregate. Concerned, the young man attempts to enter, but he is refused by a gatekeeper who doesn’t let him in without an invitation. 

The appearance of the stalkers in animal masks are an early sign of the ‘no-budget’ feel of the film, but they still manage to be eerily intriguing, and the particular sequence is so visually unique that it is hard not to be interested. During this sequence, the dissonant and screeching violin and a delirious sounding saxophone that can be heard blend into a cacophony at times. The music succeeds in setting an unusual mood that is just as weird as the movie. The violin will sometimes shriek out, resulting in a feeling that is like a slap to the senses. 

When Pierre manages to gain entry to the nocturnal meetings, he finds that what might have been an exclusive private party at his father’s clubhouse turns out to be a meeting ground for a cult that worships the mysterious and alluring woman he met and saw shot on the streets.