If there’s one thing Arrow Video is really great at it is
gathering together disparate, forgotten but otherwise kindred films that are
unlikely to be seeable elsewhere let alone in such lavish boutique editions
with pristine restorations. Usually
adorned with booklets, posters and plentiful extras, among their latest
curations of obscure but still relevant cult international films is Gothic
Fantastico: Four Italian Tales of Terror ranging from 1963 to 1966 which remain
all but completely unknown outside of their country of origin.
Springboarding from the success of such costumed period
gothic horror as Mario Bava’s Black Sunday and Black Sabbath while
finding their own unique footing that seemed to predate in some areas the
emergence of giallo, the four black-and-white films here restored in 2K from
the original camera negatives represent what can be characterized as offbeat
offshoots of the gothic horror subgenre.
Moreover, they demonstrated the legendary Bava wasn’t the only name in
Italy when it came to terrorizing and thrilling audiences with exhilarating
gothic horror films.
Issued in a limited boxed set with an 80-page booklet on the
first pressing as well as a double-sided poster and double-sided sleeve art, Gothic
Fantastico presents Massimo Pupillo’s Lady Morgan’s Vengeance,
Alberto De Martino’s The Blancheville Monster, Mino Guerinni’s The
Third Eye and lastly Damiano Damiani’s The Witch. Though out of order in the year of which they
were released, Arrow Video’s arrangement is much like their Years of Lead box
where the lineup had more interest in thematic progression. Each film builds upon the other when watched
in this order, in theory. In any case,
let us take a deep dive into Arrow Video’s world of Gothic Fantastico!
Lady Morgan’s Vengeance (1965)
Though his career was short lived, only directing nine films
(that we know of) including unofficial sequel Django Kills Softly and Bloody
Pit of Horror, writer-director Massimo Pupillo directed not one but three Italian
horror films in 1965 including the first entry in the Gothic Fantastico box,
Lady Morgan’s Vengeance. All
three of the gothic horror subgenre, the third feature of that year Lady
Morgan’s Vengeance tells the story of Lady Susan Blackhouse (Barbara Nelli)
who intends to marry architect Pierre (Michel Forain). Deciding to announce their engagement to her
uncle Neville (Carlo Kechler), their plans are overheard by the nefarious Sir
Harold Morgan (Paul Muller) who has some rather murderous ideas for the
soon-to-be newlyweds.
After trying to kill Pierre while wooing Lady Susan
Blackhouse into his sinister arms, also deploying tactics to drive the woman
mad including dropping snakes in her bed while she’s sleeping, Lady Morgan’s
Vengeance takes some turns which won’t be revealed here, eventually working
in such outlandish elements as the unfinished business ghost story and some
startling makeup effects sequences. Then
things start to get really weird as the film seems to clutch chunks of rules
governing the world of this movie and hurling them hard against a brick wall to
see how it smashes together. All of it
is very fun but it works in just about everything but the kitchen sink when it
starts nearing its fiery conclusion.
At once an atmospheric slow burn that eventually turns into
a bit of a bonkers romp, Lady Morgan’s Revenge starts out as a classy,
spooky endeavor shot handsomely by Oberdan Troiani, augmenting the film’s
period costume and production design by Ugo Pericoli. The soundtrack by Piero Umiliani is subtly
quiet ambient horror with some of the cues playing softly to a dull rumble so
were on guard but unsure of why. One of
the most effective combinations of the sight and sound elements involves the
protagonist in her nightgown traveling down a dark hallway only armed with a
lit candle just barely illuminating the walls.
This scene alone suggests stark dread and a sense of danger without ever
ballooning into full bombast and is a quintessential trademark of gothic
horror.
An old-fashioned costumed gothic period piece
with more than a few sneaky tricks up its hooded sleeves, Blancheville zeroes
in on Emilie De Blancheville (Ombretta Colli) returning to her childhood home
with friends Alice (Irán Eory) and John (Vanni Materassi) now
spearheaded by her mercurial brother Rodéric (Gérard Tichy) and his
witchy housekeeper Miss Eleanore (Helga Liné).
Meanwhile the castle Count Blancheville (Emilie’s presumed dead father)
seems to be hidden away in one of the castle towers after being severely
burned. Soon after Emilie begins
sleepwalking while a voice in her head implores her to fulfill a deadly family
prophecy.
Much
like Lady Morgan’s Vengeance, this black-and-white chiller is something
of a progenitor to such giallo fare as Death Smiles on a Murderer while
also channeling elements of Mill of the Stone Women with a mysterious
serial killer lurking about the premises.
Not all of it adds up but as we dive deep into the world of The
Blancheville Monster we forgive its shortcomings as the tropes of old dark
stormy nights, candlelit cobweb covered hallways and endless strumming at the
harpsichord kicks into high gear. As
with Morgan’s Vengeance, there’s a subplot involving the protagonist being
deceived with either something supernatural or more down to Earth as the
culprit and soon we’re not sure where our alliances lie with whom.
Originally
titled Horror in Italy before being renamed The Blancheville Monster for
UK distribution, this loosely-based compendium of Edgar Allen Poe rendered by
Gianni Grimaldi and Bruno Corbucci features beautiful location cinematography
in Spain and Rome by Alejandro Ulloa and a brooding incidental atonal score by
Carlo Franci and Giuseppe Piccillo interspersed with low key piano key
strumming. The ensemble case, namely Ombretta
Colli as the beautiful damsel whose life is being threatened by a mercurial
force and Leo Anchóriz as local Doctor LaRouche whose demeanor can be ready
many number of ways. One of the charms
of this movie is how it shifts our alliances around, never sure who to trust
with plenty of doubt cast on each and every character. The Blancheville Monster could be
anybody and we’re constantly guessing who it most likely is.
Though
director Alberto De Martino himself would disown the picture years later as it
soon slipped into public domain in the United States where it languished in
lower quality DVD copies for decades, The Blancheville Monster seen now
in beautifully restored form is a handsome little gothic horror chiller with an
inspired set of montages, frightening dream sequences and a startling moody
atmosphere. Yes at times the actual
grand revelation of The Blancheville Monster is kind of silly but
overall the tone, senses of claustrophobia and paranoia and moments of terror
are undeniable. While perhaps not on the
scale of Holocaust 2000 which might be the peak of De Martino’s career,
it’s a solid number well worthy of a top-to-bottom cleanup and reissue to
modern moviegoers.
The Third Eye (1966)
In the same year he achieved cinematic immortality with
Sergio Corbucci’s still blistering spaghetti western Django, Italian
gialli/poliziotteschi actor Franco Nero was a busy man in the world of movies
in 1966. Having done three distinctive
spaghetti westerns that year in addition to a science fiction thriller, Nero
paired up with writer-director Mino Guerrini for a role reversal that posited
him as an adversarial psychopath in the truly perverse and twisted The Third
Eye. Co-written by Piero Regnoli and
based on a story by Emmano Donati, The Third Eye out of the gate is
easily the roughest of the pack as well as the goriest. Designed a bit like Hitchcock’s Vertigo only
set in a distant castle with a count, Guerrini’s film pushes boundaries further
than any other Italian horror film at that time, including Bava even.
Happening upon a gargantuan
apartment building in the middle of downtown Rome, he meets elderly widow Consuelo
(Sarah Ferrati) who unsuccessfully tries to seduce him but not before meeting
her alluring and beautiful daughter Aura (Rosanna Schiaffino). All the while this is going on, Consuelo’s
present librarian Fabrizio (Gian Maria Volontè) returns beleaguered and jealous
but also harboring a secret as to why Consuelo and Aura are so keen on finding
a replacement.
From
soon-to-be Amityville II: The Possession helmer Damiano Damiani in one
of his earlier directorial efforts and based on the novel Aura by Carlos
Fuentes readapted by Damiani and Ugo Liberatore, The Witch or The
Witch in Love has loose hints of the supernatural but mostly functions as a
proto-giallo of sorts with love triangles and double crossings coming about
along with a male protagonist who finds himself trapped in an inescapable
spider’s web.
Aided by arresting cinematography
by Divorce Italian Style director of photography Leonida Barboni and
sporting a sumptuously jazzy score by Academy Award winning Il Postino composer
Luis Bacalov, the look and feel of The Witch is ornate, mannered and
elegantly constructed. Even as things
start to ratchet up in terms of tension or action, things rarely boil over into
shock or transgression, part in parcel to the film’s classier approach.
Costarring
Mario Bava legend Ivan Rassimov, this ensemble thriller begins quietly before
becoming an all-encompassing imprisonment for the protagonist (and us) as occult
forces seem to be driving the actions and events of the saga. British actor Richard Johnson, in one of his
younger roles here, makes an excellent leading man in Italian horror and proved
to be a familiar face that would return to such genre fare time and time again. The real showstopper here though is The
Killer Reserved Nine Seats actress Rosanna Schiaffino whose screen glamour gives
off an enticing, romantic vibe that also just barely exudes hints of danger. Special attention goes to Gian Maria Volontè
for his initially irate but eventually petrified current employee who fears he
won’t just lose his position at the apartment, but perhaps his life also.
One of
the only films in the set that managed to secure both domestic and foreign
theatrical distribution before becoming a regular player on syndicated
television, the film though successful was met with some measure of
disappointment from author Carlos Fuentes who remarked he would’ve much
preferred if the great Spanish surrealist Luis Bunuel handled the task
instead. Of the films in the set, while
the tamest of the crop it is also incidentally the sexiest. Just barely managing to avoid full frontal
nudity with more than a few allusions to sex or promiscuity, The Witch in
that regard is fairly daring and able to exude eroticism without veering too
heavily into explicit fare. As an
attempt at the so-called “Roman Witch” film, The Witch is one of the
most realistic attempts to transport old fashioned gothic lore into
contemporary Italy, a film where your next-door neighbor or friend could be
immersed knee deep in the occult.
--Andrew Kotwicki