Solo Lady Horrors!

Solo Lady Horrors

by Kristin Battestella

Old and recent, foreign or domestic – this viewing quartet is a healthy dose of solitary moms, virgins, co-eds, and tough ladies single-handedly facing the scares.

Goodnight Mommy – Lullabies and divine outdoor locations quickly turn ominous with dark caves, deep lakes, nearby cemeteries, and underground tombs accenting this 2014 Austrian psychological scare featuring twin boys and a mother under wraps. Despite the bunk beds, wise viewers will of course immediately wonder if there are really two sons – one always hides or jumps out while the other calls, and their mother only acknowledges one boy amid talk of an accident and a separation. Mirrors, windows, blurred portraits, and odd artwork embellish their cool mod home, and eerie visuals heighten the freaky surgery bandages, prying peering, twisted dreams, and creepy bugs. Close the blinds, no visitors, total quiet – the twins become increasingly suspicious when such strict recovery rules and more unusual behaviors don't compare to sing-a-longs and loving tapes made pre-surgery. Naturally, English audiences have to pay attention due to the German dialogue and subtitles, however viewers must also watch for silent moments and visual clues as this TV host mom's obsession with her surgery results increases and the boys' talking back turns into some rough encounters. The sons research videos online and find strange photos while hidden baby monitors and timer tick tocks up the suspense. Who's right? Who's overreacting? What if we could see things from the opposite point of view? They want proof she is their mother and contact the local priest, but these seemingly innocent boys play some gruesome games, too. The situation becomes more and more claustrophobic, becoming trapped indoors and locked in one room with homemade defenses and cringe-worthy torture done with something as simple as the magnify glass with sunlight trick. The audience is swayed with evidence one way before being presented with new unreliability, familial violence, and pyromaniac tendencies in a fiery topper. At times, this feels more like a sad drama than a horror movie and some elements might have needed a bit more clarification. However, the horrible stuff herein and debating on the what ifs lasts long after the viewing, and this is a fine isolated tale using slight of hand power of suggestion for its slow burn unraveling.

The House of the Devil – Creepy menus, cult statistics, and retro credits start this 2009 blu-ray featuring Jocelin Donahue (The Burrowers), Dee Wallace (The Howling), and Mary Woronov (Death Race 2000). Payphones, eighties rhythms, and old fashioned style add period flair alongside onscreen smoking, maps, feathered hair, and a big old cabinet television showing Night of the Living Dead. Even the giant Walkman and slightly corny music montage and dance about the house has a purpose in the narrative. Church bells, cemeteries, and an imminent eclipse lay the scary foundation, and rather than an opening scare fake-out, writer/director/editor Ti West (The Innkeepers) uses zooms and movement within the camera frame to create viewer intimacy, closing in from the chilly exterior and ominous windows as the suspicious phone calls lead to desperate babysitting jobs, desolate night drives, and a maze-like Victorian manor. Yes, our Samantha is at times very dumb and unaware she is in a horror movies thanks to plot holes a collaborator not wearing so many behind the scenes hats could have clarified. Mistakes and convenient contrivances in the somewhat tacked on final act also break the solitary point of view for the audience's benefit. However, that finale free for all with ritual candles, hooded robes, and a sudden twist ending is in the seventies splatter spirit, and the simmering, silent build happens naturally over the film. Instead of hollow thrills a minute, the viewer is allowed time to suspect the scary attic, theorize on suspicious photos, and listen for every noise – we know something is supposed to happen but not when. Though this kind of approach may seem boring to some, this innate alone trickle let's us appreciate the dark basement and the inopportune power outage for when the titular frights do happen. It's nice to have something different from the mainstream horror trite, too – not to mention an $8 pizza! 

Hush – Writer and director Mike Flanagan (Oculus, Absentia) and his wife, co-writer, and star Kate Siegel place our deaf-mute author in a pleasant forest cabin for some writing, relaxation, and terror in this 2016 eighty minute Netflix original. Comfort cooking noise fades and unheard laptop tones switch to wild kitchen alarms – immediately establishing the common sounds taken for granted alongside subtitled Sign Language, feeling vibrations for sound, and hearing an author voice in your head brainstorms. Friends speak while they sign, breaking up the quiet for the viewer, and we must pay attention to writing onscreen such as book jackets and manuscript text. Understandably, phone technology and Facetime calls are important, but an over-reliance on gadgets in horror can be tiring and soon dated with wi-fi switches, lost connections, and cut power. Fortunately, the intimate home makes the audience accustomed to the hearing challenges before adding the muffled silence, unseen scares, unheard screams, and instant cyberstalking. Through windows or foreground focus and background action, we have the full perspective when the protagonist doesn't. It is however a mistake to reveal the crossbow and Bowie knife wielding stalker so completely. We don't need to know the sociopath motivation nor should the viewer feel for the killer or care if he has any personality, and removing his mask just creates limp assholery. The frightening unknown with footstep vibrations, hands at the window, and approaching shadows creates a better siege, and the mystery of who and why is lost in the contrived lulls and stupid mistakes while Maddie waits around for his taunts instead of fighting back. Why not set something on fire, smoke signal authorities? Having her inner monologue address the situation and the pros or cons in each course of action is also better than breaking Maddie's point of view and using fake out possibilities. Although it's a pity millennial viewers wouldn't watch something that was all silent, the long periods with no dialogue, sound effects, and score crescendos do just fine in accenting these unique dynamics. While not perfect, this tale has enough thriller tense and innate woman alone in peril – and thus proves exactly why I must know where all the windows, entrances, and exits are in a given location and never sit with my back to any of them!

A Virgin Among the Living Dead – Various versions of this 1971 French/Spanish co-production exist thanks to re-releases of Jesus Franco's (The Awful Doctor Orloff) edition and added zombie footage from director Jean Rollin (Fascination). The trying to be poetic narration is unnecessary, the subtitles are off, and the dubbing is out of sync with the serious close ups. A dockside tense and snotty hotel warnings don't bode well for the boobies and little white panties revealing an obvious brown carpet not matching the blonde drapes, either. Askew angles, empty rooms, and creepy statues make this secluded villa Old World eerie – kind of like the mid-century Gothic look my parents' house had when I was a kid with big, foreboding lamps, tall, arched mirrors, and The Man with the Golden Helmet above an orange settee. Yes, I now realize this probably explains a lot about my interest in horror. (That and being forced to wear pink and bows but that is another story.) A happy nature stroll can't compete with demented music and deathbed vigils, and townsfolk suggestions to run, abandoned chapels, and prayer recitations are ignored in favor of this freaky family's casual views on death. Distorted camerawork accentuates weird eyes, facial oddities, and ritual pursuits as flies and buzzing sounds increase. From voyeuristic geezers and bats on the bed to a giant dildo on the floor and a blind chick getting her seventies bush trimmed by another girl sucking on her bloody boob – it's time to get out of Dodge. Unfortunately, the inconsistent characters and forgetful, stalling plot are very thin with potential psychic connections unclear and a running in circles, going nowhere fast pace. Intercut zooms while everyone squints over the reading of the will feels Charlie Brown wah-wah, and nothing comes of possible sexual awakenings, suicides, and daughters paying for sins of the father themes. There were no zombies in the version I saw – I'm not even sure which version it was. However, the muddled onscreen reflects the messy behind the scenes intrusions, and the overall result is not as good as it could have been. Fortunately, this isn't super bad, and Franco enthusiasts will find many bemusing aspects alongside the saucy violence and undead foretellings.

Just Vamps 6!

Just Vamps 6!

by Kristin Battestella

Here we are on our sixth vampire viewing list – this time with a hungry helping of foreign, avante garde, and saucy little bloodsuckers to tempt your toothy grin.

Dracula's Widow – Red titles, neon signs, and late night storms set the Hollywood horror noir tone for this 1988 vamp moody from director Christopher Coppola (Deadfall) and starring Sylvia Krystel (Emmanuelle). Wax museum artifacts, rattling crates, and jar specimens add an old fashioned Gothic creepy while antiques, retro film reels, red spotlights, and colorful shadow schemes invoke period style. Musty books, horseshoe phones, swanky jazz, and classic cars are sweet, too – better than the dated hairstyles, shiny suits, and symbolic red splash screens inserted over the toothy bites. Krystel's forties femme suit and silky white shirt also mystically remain blood free despite claw-like webbed hands and bemusing gore. Camera irises, stockings, garters, and mid century hats do more for the noir update than the unnecessary bitter detective voiceover and cranky cop clichés – bad dialogue and unfortunate scene chewing miss the attempted dark comedy mark. This movie is very specific on the eighties does forties hot minute, and while audiences from those eras will recognize the look, most viewers today will just end up confused by the seemingly mishmashed genres thanks to the uneven then-contemporary hip and devil worshiping punk gangs intruding on the otherwise careful noir design. Fortunately, there are some good moments here, a lot of the campy works, and the eighty-eight minutes moves fast with investigation clues and vampire research – complete with a crazy, feeble Van Helsing who still has enough amazing strength to stake some vampires in the morgue. Interesting Renfield transformations and conflicts accent boobs, rack torture, bathtub perils, rituals, and slice and dice montages so laughable they are actually kind of good. Despite seriously Saturday morning cartoons ridiculous flying bat graphics and hammy interference, the eighties visual schemes do make for a unique yuppie horror retro and late night suave to fulfill your unintentional vampire comedy needs.

Lips of Blood – French Director Jean Rollin gets right to the mausoleums, Winnebagoes, shrouded bodies, coffins, and rituals in this more upscale than his usual 1975 tale. A somber score, beautiful but spooky memories, and a mysterious woman in white are immediately eerie while a colorful, swanky party and retro fashions create drama and a sophisticated foundation. Blocked childhoods, an overprotective mother, and castle ruins maybe real or imagined add to the secret cemetery passages, hidden tunnels, and questions regarding perfume, scent, and memory. Naturally, there's nudity both male and female complete with a bonus photography session, seventies bush, and masturbation. However, the saucy isn't as rampant here, and this has a more put together story compared to Rollin's usually thin plotlines. Although there is a bit of walking around filler, blue street lights and a moonlight ambiance anchor the after hours aquarium pursuits with an abandoned about the city feeling – there's a dead body in the water fountain and The Shiver of the Vampires is playing at the late night movies, too. Mysterious men follow on the subway while bells, alarms, abductions, and straight jackets intensify the bats, toothy vampire nurses, and undead who help one and hinder or kill another. Phone the mayor the hungry, naked, vampire chicks are loose so gather the staking posse! Though rushed in the end, the unique finale is well edited with an interesting mix of doubt, mystery, character drama, and a sexy creepy. Who's the worse villain – entombed vamp ladies or the village torch mob? And who knew coffins would float so well? Did we know this?

The Shiver of the Vampires – Pall bearers and a black and white graveside set the 1971 Jean Rollin mood before colorful castle ruins, overgrown greenery, and edgy music both embrace the heady and keep the medieval flair with torches, goblets, and candelabras. Howling winds, red lighting, and askew camera angles accent torture chambers and sacrifices, creating a surreal dreamscape with saucy vamps in ye olde but tie dye dresses. The bride in white contrasts those mourning in black while gruesome skulls belie the cathedral architecture, canopy beds, and rustic yet cozy fireplaces. She's too distraught for the marital bed – but our bride strips downs when a hippie woman humorously pops out of the grandfather clock and they lez be friends no questions asked. Sheer clothing doesn't cover the perky naughty bits, so they need all those furs to keep those caressing ladies warm. That poor lonely groom gets left out in the cold! More camera panning, vampire opportunists stepping in and out of the frame, and overhead shots parallel the us versus them debates and whirlwind talk of undead religions and vampire persecutions. Although flashbacks add to the dreamy tone, they also confuse the wild library scene and talk of past crusades, former vampire slayers, and predestined deadly fates. But hey, killer nipple spikes! Yes, the premise is thin with strung together coming to and going fro or looking cool, meandering scenes. Rather than one vampire perspective or the young couple viewpoint, the focus constantly resets. Who's dead? Who's alive? Who's undead? Rival vampire hierarchies at first seem tempting, but twists and true colors ultimately show. Granted, you can say that if you've seen one Rolling vampire movie, you've seen them all. However, had there been seriously proper writing, The Nude Vampire, Shiver of the Vampires, and Requiem for a Vampire could have been a fine trilogy. Fortunately, the nicer production values keep this bizarre romp brimming with an avante garde but no less creepy atmosphere.

Tale of a Vampire – A delicious Julian Sands (Warlock, people, Warlock) leads this 1992 brooding character study brimming with “Annabel Lee” and Poe references to match the bleak back alleys, dark morgues, abandoned blue buildings, and dreary British mood. Despite the underlying urge to bite, predatory love, black cats, creepy vampire beds, and sucking on some bloody fingers, this isn't a gorefest thanks to multilayered social awkwardness, melancholy, loss, and conflict. This lovelorn vampire spends his time in the rare books section of a sweet old library – you use that card catalog! The plot is unfortunately very slow, the isolated characters have no sounding board, and confusing flashbacks of lookalike women and lost bliss don't explain much. The centuries ago golden patinas are well shot, however the uneven pacing and flawed constructs interfere with the storytelling. We should have seen the past to start, using that previous to accent the current torment and slightly unreal, demented fairy tale tone. Why is the audience more sad than creeped by this thirsty stalker? Fine performances carry the drama once the characters actually interact by quoting history and poets in insightful two-handers. “'Tis better to have loved and lost” and all that. Lighting and shadow schemes add to the mysterious rivals, for good love or ill pain possibilities, and strange seductions. Can it really be love if a vampire's idea of romance is to consume the life of his lover? It's oddly pleasing to see this kind of twisted vampire bite symbolism rather than teenage moon eyes, and this simmer builds to a fine finale with some interesting surprises. While not scary, the Gothic romanticism and Victorian waxing on forever and death not being the end of love provide a solid helping of morbid and memento mori.

Mummies, Vampires, & Torture, Oh My!

Mummies, Vampires, and Torture, Oh My!

By Kristin Battestella

Don't get to close for these foreign and domestic monsters, toothy dames, or rack masters!

Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb – Based upon Bram Stoker’s The Jewel of Seven Stars novel, this 1971 Hammer outing gets right to the saucy, sexy mummies, colorful jewels, tombs, and classic Egyptian designs not through spectacle of production but via subdued lighting, firelight, soft music, foreboding curses, and a silent, dreamy start. The intriguing father and daughter dynamic between Valerie Leon (The Spy Who Loved Me) and Andrew Kier (Quartermass and the Pit) is both endearing and suspicious – straight jackets, psychics, ominous constellations, cluttered museums, and sinister relics likewise contribute to the visual mixing of old, Egyptology styles and early seventies designs. Pleasing hysterical fears, snake scares, uneasy reunions, and power struggles unravel the reincarnation tale nicely. It is tough, however, to see some of the night sky transitions, and the simmering 94 minutes may be too quiet or dry for today’s speedy audiences. Subtitles would help with the exposition as well – especially for the fun homage character names like Tod Browning that may be missed otherwise. Brief nudity, one by one deaths, the collecting of killer artifacts, and a resurrection countdown also feel somewhat rudimentary at times, predictable before snappy and missing some Hammer panache in cast or direction. Considering the on set death of director Seth Holt (Taste of Fear) and the departure of Peter Cushing – both briefly discussed in the DVD’s features – the film’s flaws are certainly understandable. Besides, this is still most definitely watchable with an enjoyably moody atmosphere and fun, subjective finish.

Conspiracy of Torture – Oft giallo director Lucio Fulci’s (Zombi 2) 1969 Beatrice Cenci is not actually a horror movie but rather a historical drama chronicling terrible twists, torment, and disturbing, cutthroat family. The similar names, confusing politics, voiceover expositions, and edgy situation aren’t immediately clear and those unfamiliar with Italian names and history may have a tough time with the non-linear work here. Some action scenes are also too up close, hectic, or dark at times, but fortunately the medieval velvets, frilly collars, and chanting prayers have the Inquisition-like feeling and dangerous atmosphere needed for eponymous daughter Adrienne Larussa’s (Days of Our Lives) vengeful violence and subsequent persecution. Yes, the dubbed romantic dialogue and the over the top sentiments are a little hokey, but corrupt, sinister papa Georges Wilson (The Long Absence) balances anything you might find tender. Not to mention the executions, dog attacks, racks, medieval limb crackings, and other fancy devices adding to the ruthlessness. Considering the subject matter, perhaps the script should have upped the unscrupulous and refined its timeline – thanks to the misleading title change, horror audiences expecting something uber nude and scandalous like other exploitive films of the time may also be disappointed at the seriousness. However, there’s enough bloody action to go with the cruelty, anti-church earnest, and nasty suggestions. This style and topic won’t be for everyone, but fans of Old World productions or those studying their 16^th century history can view, compare, and delight.

The Nude Vampire – Hooded rituals in science labs make for some unique disrobings, blood vials, and colorful beakers to start this 1970 French saucy from writer and director Jean Rollin (Fascination). Although I could do without some of the now tame but up close, lingering nipple shots and overlong gyrating and dancing – continental seventies staples though they are – the black and white noir mood is well lit with candles and torchlight alongside striking red, purple, orange, and pretty people treating the eye. The interracial nudity is also surprising for the time, and the seemingly suave, exclusive clubs veil more kinky, sinister, creepy animal masks, and dangerous gun play. There isn't a lot of gore or blood, however, a simmering string score, evening streetlights, and cobblestone streets invoke an Old World mood to anchor the rare blood disorders, cult rites, and disturbing deaths. Unfortunately, the production is somewhat small scale and not as lavish as viewers might expect with minimal locales and poor editing. This picture is quiet, slow at times, even boring when precious minutes are wasted on meaningless walking here and there or out there plot exposition that feels tossed in after the fact. Thankfully, there are some great stairs, columns, and marble to up the decadent atmosphere, and the overall sense of bizarre helps the under cooked statements regarding immortality, blood possibilities, man's stupidity, and the superstition versus science comeuppance. The story could have been better, but this is a fun viewing and we're not really meant to notice the thin plot over all the titular shapely now are we? 

Requiem for a Vampire – Clown costumes, shootouts, daring car chases, and dangerous roads lead this 1971 Jean Rollin juicy before two chicks on a motorcycle roam the countryside leaving dead bodies and torched cars in their wake. The spoken English track and Anglo subtitles don't match, however there is hardly any dialogue until the latter half of the picture when we finally find out what's afoot. Some may dislike this silent style, but grave diggers and thunder create an intriguing, off-kilter spooky atmosphere. Scares, screaming ladies – we don't know the details but we're on their side as rituals and titular bloodlines escalate. Of course, colorful castles and seemingly hospitable cults providing purple furs on the bed for some lesbian touchy feelys add to the bushy babes and bemusing euro shtick. Granted, the first half hour could be tighter, and the bare bones plot should have gotten to the naughty sooner rather than all that running here and there. The sexual statements are iffy as well, even erroneous, for one wants to be a vampire/lesbian while the other doesn't want to be and gets a man instead – having sex with a woman still means you are a virgin and can still claim to a man that you haven't made real love yet! Some saucy scenes are also more graphic than others are, with uncomfortable to watch slaves in chains and more violence against women. I'm not sure about the oral sex bat (um, yeah) but the good old toothy bites mixing supernatural pain and pleasure are nicer than the rough stuff. Bright outdoor photography, pleasant landscapes, sad but eerie abandoned buildings, silhouettes, and well lit candlelight patina with gruesome green and creepy crimsons accent the dark graveyards and frightening dungeon traps, too. Once you get passed some pacing flaws and the uneven smexy, this is a fine looking and bizarrely entertaining vampire ode.

More Witchy and Demonic Viewings!

Witchy and Demonic Viewings, Two!

By Kristin Battestella

Another night, another quartet of foreign witches, campy cults, musical devils, and a whole lot of sexy, scary panache! 

The Devil Within Her – We know the happiness of having a baby is moot for this 1975 British tale once the hip title music, disturbing medical tools, heady zooming lights, and a writhing Joan Collins (Dynasty) start this 90 minutes off with an arduous delivery. There’s surprisingly little blood and gore considering the amounts shown onscreen then and now – not to mention the reality of a difficult 12 lb birth! – but toss in a baby who will scratch his mother, bite the maid, tear up his own toys or try to drown his nurse and the mood is set! What he does to dad Ralph Bates (Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde), well…hehehehe. I wonder if Adam Sandler’s Little Nicky title came from Collins’ screaming “Nicky! Nicky!” when her devil baby flips out at his christening? Period but pointless London streets and retro cars accent a juicy Caroline Munroe (The Spy Who Loved Me), brief strip club nudity, and a laughably filmed sex scene, but the flashback narration should have been shown instead of told. Most of this so serious is just too hokey and amusing because without special effects for our knife wielding newborn, the child violence scenes have to be bad up close shots or humorous cut away action. An eerie dream sequence is horror fine, but flashes of spurned dwarf George Claydon (Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory) as a baby are absurd. Faux Italian accents and superstitious medieval talk are also ridiculous, and the little person portrayals as evil, cursing, freakish, undesirable folk run rampant. A viewer can’t tell if the plot is chastising and blaming the eponymous Lucy for her stripping past and marrying rich or rooting for her as a victim of this monstrous baby. It’s tough to take the intriguing notions of an evil birth or a post partum mother seriously as well thanks to the surprisingly amusing but misogynistic men who think she must be exaggerating the bad baby behavior. This could have been something unseen sinister or all in a mother’s demented state of mind, but awkward scenes debating medicine versus religious magic fill up the time without really discussing any intelligent or scary possibilities. Fortunately, fun performances from doctor Donald Pleasence (Halloween) and nun Eileen Atkins (Cranford) can’t be faulted, and there’s enough bemusement for the audience to see the outlandish through to the inexplicable finale. I mean, lab testing on mice nuns who study animal psychology?! 

Fascination – Writer and director Jean Rollin (The Nude Vampire) uses eerie zooms and haunting camera speeds to provide wonderful turn of the century style and Old World feelings for this 1979 French saucy. Phonographs and period music, ominous sounds, flowing white frocks, frilly lace, feathered hats, graceful mannerisms, candles, decorated interiors, natural visuals, and a great castle locale contrast the morbid slaughter house, vivid red colors, blood, rogue, symbolic lips, scythes, black robes, and blonde/brunette or good girl/bad girl expectations. Talk about a sexy grim reaper! It does help to know your français, sure, but the fine performances and talk of death taking the form of seduction add extra panache and gothic allure even amid any translation discrepancies on the available English subtitles. The laid back mood may be tough for modern American audiences, but the curious characters and simmering atmosphere is soon set with crimes, betrayal, and a siege situation – not to mention how the boobs are out early and often. We’re immediately intrigued in how one man is going to survive being locked in a house with blonde Brigitte Lahaie (I as in Icarus) and brunette Franca Mai (Zig Zag Story), let alone five more cultish women and a blindfold! Though there’s a lot of skin and tender kissing, the saucy scenes may also be a whole lot of nothing for those who are expecting more full on porn. This pretty Victorian via seventies French lesbianism won’t be for everyone but the kinky sucks the viewer in for the disturbingly delightful fashions, sinister switch, and sophisticated chic.

The Mephisto Waltz – Demonic Bond on acid opening credits set the mood for this 1971 simmering satanic thriller along with sweet cars, fancy décor, statues, and of course, creepy uses of the titular Litsz from composer Jerry Goldsmith (The Omen). Although one should probably appreciate classical music before watching, the diabolic orchestration accents the twisted relationships, foreboding zooms, askew angles, and macabre mid century masks. Enough smoke and nudity suggest more while strategic shadows and gauzy glows add dimension to hazy dream sequences. Set off the deadly rituals and eerie funeral with morbid French texts, and it’s easy to root for Jacqueline Bisset (Day for Night) and her understandably suspicious anchor against the decadently posh Curd Jurgens (The Spy Who Loved Me) and Barbara Parkins (Peyton Place). Alan Alda (M*A*S*H), however, is unfortunately too limp in his quest for high art and evil society. He doesn’t show the madness or range needed nor even any maniacal piano playing – he’s plastered for a face cast in one scene and his presence remains the same! Wise viewers or readers of the source novel may expect what happens – there’s an obligatory old-time library research montage, too – but the immoral isn’t always so apparent. Considering its title and subject, perhaps this isn’t as depraved or shocking as other occult pictures of the era, either. Despite some head scratching motivations or plot holes, the scary pacing, freaky drama, and sometimes unexpected turn of events give the audience a few good shocks and mysteries indeed. 

The Witch’s Mirror – Oft spooky actor Abel Salazar (The Curse of the Crying Woman) produced this black and white 1962 Mexican horror treat with Isabela Corona (A Man of Principle) as a creepy housekeeper amid the excellent smoke and mirrors and titular visual effects. From a macabre prologue and illustrations to Victorian mood, candles, and rituals, El Espejo de la Bruja has it all – love triangles, jerky husbands, revenge, betrayals, grave robbing, and ghoulish medicine. The plot is at once standard yet also nonsensical thanks to all the sorcery, implausible surgeries, ghosts, fire, even catalepsy all building in over the top, soap opera-esque twists. The sets are perhaps simplistic or small scale with only interior filming, but this scary, play-like atmosphere is enough thanks to wonderful shadows, gothic décor, and freaky, sinister music. Several language and subtitle options are available along with the feature and commentary on the DVD as well – not that any of the dubbing, subtitles, or original Spanish completely matches. The audio is also messed up in some spots, but the script is fun and full of cultish summonings and medical fantasies. Maybe this one will have too much happening for some viewers, as every horror treatise is thrown at the screen here. However, this is a swift, entertaining 75 minutes nonetheless and it doesn’t let up until the end.