Bava Horror, Anyone?
By
Kristin Battestella
In
my ongoing search for upper crust, classic European Horror, one name
consistently tops the charts: Mario Bava. Here’s a small sampling of Italian
made treats – and one warning of how not to botch a perfectly good Bava tale.
Baron
Blood – Joseph Cotten (Citizen Kane) and Elke Sommer (more on
her in a bit) star in this often unloved 1972 tale of family curses, and the mix
of centuries old torture, witches, hidden treasure, and vengeance does indeed
need some polish and clarification. Is this about the past cruelty, the raised
baron, or the contemporary haunted hotel? Why do these clearly out of their
depth people go messing with these past horrors anyway? Despite a bright, swanky,
jet setting, and cliché start – an American coming back to his spooky ancestral
Austrian castle complete with outfitted dungeon – the titular ghost talk,
tolling bells, and incantations build suspense. The accents, poor script, and exposition
scenes may be tough, but the dark, murderous actions counter the lack of motivation
or room to maneuver from the cast. How is the viewer to like them when the
resurrected baron is their fault? Thankfully, the country locales and estates
look lovely – the partially restored castle is both dreary as needed or lit
with just the right ambiance and fog. Perspective kills, scary zooms, angles, shocks,
chases, and kids in peril continue the creepy, and the sickening makeup is burned
and nasty effective. The wheelchair bound Cotten does add some slick and twisted
layers, however, we don’t see him enough to enjoy his nuances. The picture is
off on the wrong foot and hampers itself under a muddled story because it
doesn’t focus on the eponymous character. This is rougher around the edges than
Bava’s usual style, charisma, and mood, granted, yet the look and players
remain just watchable enough thanks to an entertaining finale.
Black
Sunday – We’ve seen other anniversary
curses and execution revenge pictures beyond this 1960 black and white so-called
Bava directing debut, originally edited and released by AIP stateside without
its proper Mask of Satan title. Every
cliché is here, complete with a coach breaking down in front of a derelict
mansion, scholars turned grave robbers, and a few drops of blood releasing a
ghoulish mistake, but we’ve never seen such lurid family history, look a like
damsels, and undead doctors like this. The stereotypical hysterias, Old World
mysticism, Eastern European staples, and Moldavia vibes not only work, but the
opening 17th century fire and brimstone narration is darn effective
with excellent wind and thunder to match. Sudden movements add surreal jump scares,
but fog, phantom carriages, and creepy forests know when to be still. Artfully,
posed scenes are filmed thru branches, shadows, cobwebs, and smoke – almost
like a silent movie. Sure, this was probably done to conceal the on the cheap
but no less crafty period flair or assorted set flaws, but the design looks
damn scary and perfectly atmospheric. I wouldn’t go out alone at night and milk
the cow either! Though the English delivery and vocals are very well done, it is
unfortunate Barbara Steele (The Pit and
the Pendulum) is dubbed. Nonetheless, her dual role as the ingénue princess
and the not so well to do witch is ethereal and captivating – the classic lighting
and photography captures her stunning beauty as well as the totally creepy
corpse effects and ghouly makeup. Of course, the blood necessities, servants
dead in the day but alive at night, bodily possessions, and witch or vampire
and Satanist terms are all somehow used wrongfully or interchangeably as
needed; yet the science versus occult talk is also well thought out, even ahead
of its time. Thankfully, the complete 87 minute European version has all the simmering
pace and swelling music intact, and one can see why so many other films
followed this model. Why did we forget how to make pictures like this?
Planet
of the Vampires –AIP also
co-produced this 1965 Bava science fiction horror bizarre, and though old, the
space effects look good, even sophisticated for the most part. The thin science
and early space flight futuristic lingo is dated, of course, but existential,
non-corporeal spins, infrared light, lots of smoke, alien green glows, and more
surreal visual designs assure the audience this isn’t the Lost in Space juvenile style of the time. Though the uniforms look
like cast offs from the first X-Men movie,
the atmosphere doesn’t feel low budget or foreign cheap thanks to Bava’s
in-camera tricks and flair. Today’s CGI spoiled viewers may be unaccustomed to
the sparse rooms, big buttons, lights, knobs, and sci-fi gizmos, but this
nostalgic charm helps make up for some of the who is who confusion and slow
start. Sound effects and scoring also accent the very interesting premise,
scary disaster mood, and planetary dangers as the straight SF adventure turns
bloody and deadly. The quiet exploring and festering creepy tops when the undead
astronauts rise, and wise viewers can definitely see the space horror genre
influences here – mystery homing beacon, giant calcified ancient skull, ominous
massive alien spacecraft and all coughaliencough. Fans of Bava’s gothic horror
designs or gory lovers may find this picture an unconventional departure and
not even necessarily horror – and it is
more in the spirit of a macabre anthology episode – but fans of his style and
even straight SF audiences should take a look.
Lisa
and the Devil – The dubbing is
off, the spoken volumes low and the music too loud and over the top for this
dreamy, stylized, and somewhat confusing 1974 Bava bent. Subtitles are
definitely a must to help explain the mysterious men, macabre apparitions,
bizarre guests, and Spanish flair. The maze like city streets, weird statues,
cluttered Old World feelings and eerie estate,
however, are perfectly atmospheric and match the almost elegant filmmaking.
Fresh color and blood add to the scandals and up close, erratic violence while
reflections, zooms, and angled camerawork anchor the photography and parallel the
multi dimensional players and their affairs, secrets, and crimes. This ensemble
is aware of their spooky circumstances, even when the script is uneven with
superfluous soliloquies and silence. Wispy flashbacks take too much time to
explain all the past connections, yet the tale also seems overlong like a 85
minute supersized anthology segment. The nasty implications will be tough to
watch, too, but the unique saucy and peculiar sensuality is smartly obscured
what we think we see sex and nudity. Telly Savalas (Kojak) is likewise creepy yet charismatic with the svelte ingénue
Elke Sommer, and this crisscrossing mix of doppelgangers, demons, and the dead
is a bizarrely entertaining, twisted little ride.
But Skip
House
of Exorcism – Stay with me now,
for this re-edited version of Lisa and
the Devil from producer Alfredo Leone adds new possession themes, exorcism
footage, and Robert Alda (Rhapsody in
Blue) as the titular performing priest in an attempt to mainstream Bava’s
Euro-fashioned uncut edition. From different opening titles and the
re-christened Mickey Lion aka Leone directing to more blood, violence, and
intercut medical scenes, it’s apparent this is not the same film. Sommer’s grunting and demonic scenes are
embarrassing and somehow seem more exploitative than her nasty sex scene in Lisa and the Devil. Not that this is a
bad performance by Elke, but the crass sex, extra boob shots, and full frontal
nudity just seems so classless – sex and priests just don’t feel right then or
now. All the exorcism clichés seem trashy, and the language is so unnecessarily
foul it’s almost funny: “Where do you come from?” “A cunt, you jerk!” Wtf?
“Don’t break my balls, Priest!” Granted, Bava’s tale is confusing, but this
Lisa being possessed has nothing to do with the doubly flashback scandals and
makes even less sense. Would I have
liked to see an exorcism or possession drama from Bava? Sure. Is this it? No.
Die-hard fans may like to watch and compare, but otherwise, don’t bother with
this rehash.
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