FORGOTTEN GIALLI - VOLUME 8 - BLU-RAY REVIEW

While Vinegar Syndrome’s previous FORGOTTEN GIALLI box set presented a new, refreshing angle on the usual Italian thrillers with a distinctly different, modernized spin on the genre, this latest collection focuses on a trio of obscurities (two of which have never been on disc) that draw heavily on the usual convoluted plotlines of ulterior motives and plenty of sordid and violent underpinnings. To say these were some of the best films the genre had to offer would be damning praise, but despite their obvious low-budgets, they include some engaging principal performances, several shamelessly trashy set-ups, and a whole shoal of red herrings, which are all made extra watchable thanks to VS’s newly-minted restorations.

Often referred to as the third film in the loosely-connected “schoolgirls in peril” trilogy initiated by Massimo Dallamano’s WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO SOLANGE? (1971) and his follow-up WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOUR DAUGHTERS? (1974), Alberto Negrin’s RINGS OF FEAR (1978) likewise possesses a similarly skeevy feel, but unfortunately, it also lacks the elegance of the first film or the poliziesco-styled vitality of the second. Given the time period in which it was made, Negrin’s film avoids the glossy, stylized sheen of other ’70s Euro thrillers in favour of a grittier coarseness more in common with titles that include THE SISTER OF URSULA (1978) or GIALLO IN VENICE (1979), and even though the basic material and ideas are potent enough to prompt the feeling that the makings of an excellent film are in there somewhere, it’s far from having been released. When asked about this troubled production in the first issue of the Canadian ’zine Tame (Steve Fenton & Michael Ferguson, 1993), co-star Jack Taylor insisted that “it was never finished, and so they just took bits and pieces of it and… it was a dreadful experience!”, which goes a long way to explain the rather haphazard results, even if, the final product still remains infinitely entertaining. 

 

Following much the same pattern as the series’ previous entries, RINGS OF FEAR begins in suitably cruel fashion when the body of a murdered teenager named Angela Russo is found floating in a river with her belly horribly mutilated. Gianni Di Salvo (Fabio Testi) is assigned to the case and soon learns that the girl had been “torn open by an instrument that was anything but sharp” or “a cock THIS big!” as Di Salvo puts it in no uncertain terms. As he weaves his way through several potential suspects including Michael Parraviccini (Taylor), owner of the Feline Jeans boutique, his suspicions soon lean towards St. Teresa’s School for Girls, a highbrow academy for socially privileged young women, which also conceals several dark secrets…

 

In view of the film’s grim subject matter, it should come as no surprise that a perverse ambiance predominates much of the running time with an accent placed upon the sordid gutter-level procurement of under-age prostitution. With its expected barrage of gratuitous female nudity, which includes full-frontal shower scenes, an extended orgy sequence, and a visit to a sleazy back alley abortionist, RINGS OF FEAR is definitely more in touch with the pornographic side of Italian films from that era. Among its squalid succession of situations and characters, further allusions to political skullduggery and corruption also make their way into the convoluted script, which isn’t all that surprising given that six (!) different writers receive onscreen credit. Alongside some striking visual moments including a hauntingly-lit nun statue, which overlooks the ‘sacred’ halls of the academy, and a possible homage to Mario Bava’s FIVE DOLLS FOR AN AUGUST MOON (1970), Negrin’s film also incorporates several much-welcome Eurocrime staples into its mix including an energetic foot and motorcycle chase, and one of the more bizarre – and certainly memorable - interrogation scenes, which is set on an old rickety rollercoaster! Further accentuating its crime film roots, Riz Ortolani’s strident jazzy themes are swiped entirely from Dallamano’s earlier poliziesco hybrid SUPERBITCH (1973), while leading man Fabio Testi, who usually appeared in Italocrime films of reliably competent quality such as Tonino Valerii’s GO, GORILLA, GO! (1975) often refers to his partner as ‘Starsky.’ In what is easily one of the film’s strongest assets, Testi gives a highly credible performance as the tough-talking commissario who must navigate through all of the film’s rattlesnake twists and turns, which, despite its general incoherence, still manages to pack a powerful punch with its kick-in-your-face third act and ingenious plot twist. 

 

Most viewers in the U.S. and Canada of a certain age probably discovered this slice of Italo-sleaze during the video rental boom via Wizard Video’s big box VHS and Beta videocassettes. Re-titled TRAUMA for the home video market, Wizard’s tape contained a poorly-cropped edition of the film, which made a real mess out of Eduardo Noé’s and Carlo Carlini’s scope photography. In the early ’90s, Canadian VHS outfit Lettuce Entertain You released a similar middling transfer under its British title VIRGIN TERROR (“Terror runs wild at the academy for girls.”), which also did the film no favours. Outside of an English-friendly German DVD from Eyecatcher Movies (circa 2008), the film bypassed DVD altogether in North America (the less said about Full Moon’s VHS-ripped Grindhouse Collection DVD from 2013, the better), but in 2018, it made its HD debut thanks to the late Walt Olsen’s Scorpion Releasing in what was a very pleasing restoration. Suffering from some occasional scratches and imperfections, this was easily the best-looking edition up to that point, which also included both English and Italian DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono audio options (the latter with English subtitles) and an entertaining audio commentary from Mondo Digital’s Nathaniel Thompson wherein he has plenty to say about the film’s troubled production history, the interesting cast and crew, and the film’s many odd touches and obvious faults, but also freely admits that it does improve with repeated viewings.

 

“Newly scanned and restored in 2K from a 35mm blow-up CRI (color reversal intermediate),” the most recent Blu-ray of RINGS OF FEAR (which contains the film’s original Italian title ENIGMA ROSSO) appears more naturalistic in terms of its overall colour scheme as opposed to Scorpion’s earlier Blu, which leaned towards slightly pinkish skin tones; while certainly not perfect, this is a solid upgrade. Once again, both English and Italian DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono audio options (the latter with newly translated English subtitles) are included and sound fine given the film’s troubled production history with Ortolani’s brassy score dominating much of the soundscape.

 

The extensive special features begin with another in a long line of wonderful audio commentaries from returning authors and Italian cinema whizzes Nathaniel (Frightfest Guide to Vampire Movies) Thompson, Troy (So Deadly, So Perverse: 50 Years of Italian Giallo Films) Howarth and Eugenio (Darkening the Italian Screen) Ercolani, all of who have plenty to say about the film’s “complicated history and genesis”, the large group of screenwriters attached to the production that even includes future Dario Argento collaborator, and one-time director of SWEETS FOR A STRANGER (1987) Franco Ferrini, Alberto Negrin’s lengthy career on Italian television (he considers the film in question “the lowest point of his career”), the “sleazy porno vibe” and the decline in production of gialli by the late ’70s, the film’s many “sketchy” home video releases, and several of the inconsequential parts that turn up in the film such as Helga Liné, Tony Isbert, “Waldemar Wohlfahrt”, and Christine Kaufmann, whose role herein is nothing more than an extended cameo, despite receiving second billing. Not only do they provide a ton of information related to the film and its production woes, but their discussion also helps viewers deepen their appreciation for this “rough around the edges” picture.

 

Unlike Scorpion’s earlier Blu, Vinegar Syndrome have included a ton of informative featurettes, which not only shed light on the film itself but director Alberto Negrin’s vast television career as well. Beginning with From Big Screen Scares to Small Screen Epics (23m31s) Negrin goes over the evolution of his career starting with his early work as an assistant director, his eventual involvement with RINGS OF FEAR, and all the frustration and disappointment that came with the job. For the rest of the interview, he seems more eager to talk about his extensive work in television on such prestigious projects like his 7-part miniseries SECRET OF THE SAHARA (1988), which, given how little is known about this facet of Italian film, is all quite fascinating. In Deep Red Rings (26m22s), screenwriter Franco Ferrini also discusses his time on the project who recalls he was hired as a sort of script doctor, and had minimal participation with Massimo Dallamano. While not having too much to say about the film itself, Ferrini goes on to talk about his time working with Dario Argento on both PHENOMENA (1984) and OPERA (1987). Fabio Testi is interviewed next in The Red Thread (25m33s) wherein he discusses his lengthy, genre-hopping career, which also includes his time working on said film, his relationship with both Dallamano and Negrin, the film’s much-talked about production issues, his co-stars, and his other collaborations with Negrin. In the amusingly titled Cecil B. Negrin (13m51s), the director gives further insight into his vast television career and the eventual downfall of the industry itself.

 

Moving on to the second film in this box set, director Tano Cimarosa’s REFLECTIONS IN BLACK (1975) was always regarded as a routinely B-grade programmer of little real distinction, but given the film’s poor presentation on home video over the years (in usually badly-cropped and edited VHS copies from either Greece or Holland), it’s no wonder this film was best left forgotten. That said, Vinegar Syndrome’s new restoration should definitely help improve its standing, and allow viewers to better appreciate the film’s undeniable virtues. 

 

After a promising opener showing the brutal, drawn-out murder of a young woman (Daniela Giordano) at the hands of a black-gloved killer, this unabashed, attention-grabbing scene is quickly supplanted by the more mundane police procedural settings, which seem to hamper most gialli of the period. Director Cimarosa – who also stars in the film – plays Pantò, an unshaven working-class cop with an over-confident grin and manner that makes people uncomfortable (“C’mon, that’s a load of balls!”), and whose character has more in common with the many loose-triggered commissarios from any number of polizieschi. British born John Richardson on the other hand plays Inspector Lavina, a well-groomed, budding intellectual whose high moral pedestal (“Only a crazy nut could have done a thing like this!”) is in direct contrast to Pantò’s everyday cop, which not only adds an interesting interplay between the two men, but helps generate some much-needed chemistry into the film’s many talky passages. 

 

Having scoured the entire area surrounding the scene of the crime, Pantò quickly deduces that “the broad was killed with a razor”, and it soon develops the young woman was also “making a living pulling down her panties”, but when Emma Giorgi (Giovanna D’Albore) is murdered soon afterwards, it quickly emerges that the two victims were connected through a trendy, high-priced hair salon run by Mario (Giovanni Brusatori). Determined to solve the case, they track down many of the girls’ acquaintances that frequented this haughty establishment, which includes minor-league drug pusher Sandro (Ninetto Davoli) and his girlfriend Marilyn (Dada Gallotti), as well as Leonora Anselmi (Dagmar Lassander) whose respected lawyer husband (Giacomo Rossi-Stuart) also has ties to the decadent and highly-influential Countess Orselmo (Magda Konopka), which ultimately requires our detectives to try and solve the case without causing any political waves…

 

Cimarosa is perhaps best known to most Eurocult fans for appearing in a number of films for director Damiano Damiani including THE DAY OF THE OWL (1968), THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WIFE (1970) and A MAN ON HIS KNEES (1977), three of the director’s most impressive mafia pictures, where Cimarosa gets to demonstrate his acting chops alongside big-name stars like Franco Nero and Giuliano Gemma. That said, it becomes readily apparent this charismatic actor is far more comfortable in front of the camera than behind it. As revealed in Rachael Nisbet’s audio commentary included on this disc, Cimarosa “sought help from his friend” Gianni Siragusa, who directed most, if not all of the picture. Even as the body count begins to pile up, the director(s) laissez-faire approach to the material neglects to realize the genre’s proper stylistic potential, and while the film does feature several gruesome murders and carelessly exposed breasts, very little suspense is generated outside of these few scenes. Numerous subplots are briefly alighted upon, only to have the director (or was this the choice of editor Romeo Ciatti?) whisk us away to another character or situation, which also includes a subordinate inspector named Manlio (Gianni Williams) and his inquisitive girlfriend (Ursula Davis, herein credited as Pier Anna Quaia) who also attempts to curtail the murders herself, even as Manlio jokingly suggests to “keep her impulses to the bedroom and supermarket!” While there are certainly more memorable gialli, REFLECTIONS IN BLACK does still provide all the requisite whodunit tropes (including a languid but no less effective Carlo Savina score), and it’s always enjoyable watching the relatively game cast do their earnest if bored-looking best while trying to untangle this undercooked spaghetti knot of trailing plot strands. 

 

Finally retaining the film’s original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, which does wonders with Marcello Masciocchi’s functional widescreen photography, this new 2K restoration taken from the “35mm Italian copyright deposit print” remains fairly consistent and offers a more textured, colourful presentation. Given the source print, some scratches, dirt and finite damage is present, but doesn’t distract from one’s enjoyment of the film, especially when compared to the many grey-market bootlegs that came before it. DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono audio options are provided in both Italian (with newly translated English subtitles) and English, and while the latter frequently switches to Italian (with English subtitles, ‘natch!) substituting scenes never dubbed into English, it’s always nice to hear familiar voice talent such as Edward Mannix (who provides a hilarious Brooklyn-styled accent for Cimarosa) and Carolyn De Fonseca. As expected, the film’s rather meagre sound design doesn’t push boundaries, but everything sounds just fine for a low-budget Italian exploitation film with Carlo Savina’s score adding plenty of atmosphere and energy to the various murder and travelogue sequences.

 

Considering the film’s obscurity, VS still manages to deliver several noteworthy special features beginning with another detailed audio commentary, this time from film historian and critic Rachael Nisbet wherein she discusses the influence of Dario Argento and how the “giallo formula persisted” over the years, even among low-budget films such as this with its “classic beats and visual hallmarks.” Of course, she also goes over the film’s genesis, how actor Tano Cimarosa stepped into the director’s chair, the film’s stylistic choices, its modest budget, the large cast and crew, the film’s costuming, the rather unusual seaside location, it’s numerous sub-par VHS versions, and the film’s many faults, which certainly warrant it as a “forgotten giallo.” Equally entertaining and informative, Nisbet’s commentary offers up plenty of valuable historical context, while remaining thoughtful and focused throughout. In Eugenio Ercolani’s featurette Reflections on Cimarosa (28m52s), Cimarosa biographer Domenico Monetti offers up a loving tribute to the “legendary character actor of Italian cinema” whose career is discussed at length beginning with his time in Sicily doing puppet shows and travelling theatre, his early work with director Oreste Palella, his breakout role in Damiani’s aforementioned THE DAY OF THE OWL where he recited his lines in Sicilian “in a totally brilliant way,” his skills at improv, and his eventual directorial efforts, which of course includes REFLECTIONS IN BLACK as well as NO ALLA VIOLENZA (a.k.a. DEATH HUNT, 1977), and his little-seen mafia picture UOMINI DI PAROLA(1978). The extras conclude with a brief look at the Footage Unique to the Export Versions (7m38s), which are a number of extended nude scenes sourced from videotape. 

 

Doomed to obscurity for decades, the last film included in this set comes from Demofilo Fidani, a director that has become inseparably identified with helming several enjoyable, but cheaply-produced spaghetti westerns that include such colourful titles as DJANGO AND SARTANA’S SHOWDOWN IN THE WEST (1970) and DEAD MEN DON’T MAKE SHADOWS (1971), which usually starred American ex-pat Jack Betts under his usual alias of Hunt Powers. This time, Mr. Betts relinquishes his six-shooter and Stetson hat and appears alongside a bevy of other Fidani repertory players in A.A.A. MASSEUSE, GOOD-LOOKING, OFFERS HER SERVICES… (1972), Fidani’s first and only giallo. 

 

When Cristina (Paola Senatore) decides to move away from home, her youthful idealistic exuberance is immediately questioned by her mother (Yvonne Sanson), who worries that she is simply leaving home to spite her stern father, Enrico (“Hunt Powers” / Jack Betts). After moving in with her friend Paola (Fidani’s real-life daughter “Simone Blondell” / Simonetta Vitelli), she quickly finds work as a “masseuse” (i.e., prostitute), partly as a result of complacency and the easy money the job brings. She eventually meets Oskar (“Howard Ross” / Renato Rossini), a smooth-talking pimp who coerces her to work for him (“You’re a good product, but the packaging is all wrong.”) with the promise of meeting several influential clients, but soon thereafter, Cristina’s pervy johns get bumped-off by a shadowy figure in a black fedora and yellow gloves…

 

Despite its lengthy run-on title, which does embrace similar Italo thrillers of the period (i.e., Alfonso Bresica’s RAGAZZA TUTTA NUDA ASSASSINATA NEL PARCO / NAKED GIRL KILLED IN THE PARK [1972]), Fidani’s film is probably more befitting of a softcore sex film. And while it does indeed incorporate several gialli elements into its narrative, Fidani and his wife Mila Vitelli (who also co-scripted) seem more interested to explore its themes of resistance to tradition and the patriarchal structures in Italy at the time. Whether Cristina is seeking freedom from her controlling father or her love-sick boyfriend (Raffaele Curi), or even fending off the violent impulses of her pimp (“You’re not like the others. You need a good slap!”), Cristina expertly navigates this suffocating male-dominated world using her intellect (“You even use it too much!” Remarks Oskar in a typically chauvinist barb.), even as she apathetically resigns herself to the whims of her clientele’s “refined tastes.” As played by ’70s softcore sensation Senatore, she provides a richness to her strong-willed character and emotes both beauty and vulnerability as the blooming girl-next-door in search of a few kicks and some fast cash (“Without money, you’re nobody.”), but as stressed in the film’s final unexpectedly poignant revelation, after all is said and done, she is left with nothing more than bittersweet memories.

 

Much like his westerns, Fidani once again rounds up a stellar supporting cast that includes future ’80s action star Giancarlo Prete (a.k.a. Timothy Brent), seasoned actor Ettore Manni as the obligatory commissario (“I’m going to nail him, even if it means stepping on some toes!”), and of course, Howard Ross as the consummately obnoxious misogynist with a conceited smirk, all of who add tremendously to the pulpy narrative. Together with Coriolano “Lallo” Gori’s highly-diverse score, which switches fluently between brassy horn sections, some solid chugalong funk with rock guitar riffs and more traditional suspense cues, Fidani’s whodunit also seems uncertain as to whether it’s a sexploitation pic, a giallo or perhaps an overwrought socially aware drama, but whichever you choose, it’s a solidly entertaining picture that shall arguably remain Fidani’s finest moment as a director.

 

Never earning a home video release of any kind, nothing but praise should be given to Vinegar Syndrome’s impressive Blu-ray. As quoted on the packaging, it has been “newly scanned and restored in 2K from its original camera negative” and the results are stunning to say the least. Preserving the film’s intended 2.35:1 widescreen framing (which was cropped to 1.85:1 on the various online copies), details are very well-defined in the shadowy murder sequences, whereas the film’s colourful set design and brightly lit Roman exteriors highlight notable depth in the image. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Italian mono is also clean and free of any noticeable issues. 

 

Both Troy Howarth and Eugenio Ercolani return for another superb audio commentary wherein they discuss the idiosyncratic Fidani, his family and dedicated associates, and the film itself to the fullest extent possible. Working with very small budgets, both agree that Fidani’s giallo is “quite competent” even if it does focus more on “the sleazy side of things.” The two of them also go into the “lazy attitude” of some film scholars who lump all genre directors into “one big cauldron” whereas they compare Fidani to similar directors working with limited means such as Renato Polselli and Luigi Batzella. Other topics discussed include Lallo Gori’s diverse score and some of its recycled cues including one from Mario Bava’s FOUR TIMES THAT NIGHT (1969), Fidani’s partner Mila Vitelli who was a “vital figure” within his cinematic universe, the success and influence of Dario Argento’s THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE (1970), even if Fidani’s film was not a “run-of-the-mill rip-off”, which seemed more inspired by ’60s “sexy horror giallo” photo stories. They also delve into Fidani’s overall career including his extremely prolific – but short-lived – period directing westerns, the friends and family aspect of his films, the film’s cast and crew with a particular focus on Senatore’s illustrious, and later troubled career, Fidani’s subsequent projects such as the risqué CALDE LABBRA (1976), and his love of parapsychology, which dominated the rest of his life. As usual, this is another thoughtful, deep-dive discussion, which sheds plenty of light on this little-known film and Fidani’s career. Needless to say, it comes highly recommended!

 

Other extras include several on-camera interviews beginning with Simone Blondell in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (38m16s), a very welcome chat with the actor who affectionately goes over her time working with her father. Although regarded as more of a painter, she goes over his time working as a set designer on numerous films throughout the ’60s, where through his friend actor Robert Woods was prompted to begin directing. She goes on to defend her father’s work from numerous detractors, his “shyness” shooting sex scenes, and his work as a popular medium. In Photo Story Hero (16m22s), actor Renato Rossini is extremely appreciative for the opportunity to discuss his long career that began as a child when he fantasized about being a cowboy, a dream which was later fulfilled with his starring role in Piero Pierotti’s ZORRO THE REBEL (1966). He has nothing but fond memories working on various film sets, which felt like being in a “big family”, and whose career was guided by “love and passion” and never money. As expected, he also finds time to talk about Fidani and his time working on A.A.A., which led to more roles as “well-meaning villains.”  Film historian Luca Rea is interviewed in Remembering the Medium (14m22s) wherein he discusses the film’s “cult” status due to its long absence, its comic book roots, some of the film’s interesting casting choices, and Fidani’s work as a well-known medium. And finally, Eugenio Ercolani goes in front of the camera in A.A.A. Looking for Paola (20m13s) in which he goes over Paola’s rather remarkable career in great detail and how the changing tastes and “loosening of censorship” required her to push the envelope alongside other actors such as Karin Schubert and Femi Benussi. 

Thanks to Vinegar Syndrome’s first-class restorations, this trio of films finally look their very best, and along with the wide-array of superb supplementary material, these solid, if unspectacular gialli turn out to be far more entertaining than one may initially suppose. Great stuff, all-around!

MURDER-ROCK: DANCING DEATH - 4K UHD / BD REVIEW

A couple of years previous, Lucio Fulci had directed, with slick and brutal efficiency, one of the most harrowing and controversial films of his career. A hard-hitting and unsparingly violent picture, THE NEW YORK RIPPER (1982) divided critics and fans alike, while some journalists, rather unfairly, went so far as to label Fulci a misogynist for his efforts. However, with time it has become abundantly clear that Fulci’s bleak – but highly compelling - late-entry giallo can easily hold its own alongside the best of the director’s work. With MURDER-ROCK: DANCING DEATH (1984), Fulci turned to another New York-based story (once again co-written by TNYR’s Gianfranco Clerici and Vincenzo Mannino), but unlike that film’s memorable in-your-face title cue of a dog biting down on a rotted dismembered hand, MURDER-ROCK opens with colourful NYC skylines intercut with voguish breakdancing, in what was clearly an attempt to ride the coattails of Adrian Lyne’s enormously popular FLASHDANCE (1983). Notwithstanding the film’s then-popular ‘topical’ content (which, admittedly does give the film an extra jolt of adrenalin), Fulci’s last “respectably” budgeted film is another technically assured, inventive, and highly-engaging picture, which looks especially impressive via Vinegar Syndrome’s first-class UHD/BD box set.

Candice Norman (Olga Karlatos), a hard-driving dance instructor at New York’s fiercely competitive Arts for Living Center, pushes her students to the very brink as they contend for a role in some prestigious unnamed Broadway production. When one of the students is murdered with a lo-o-onng hatpin during a virtually bloodless – but nonetheless gripping – scene, the already simmering rivalries between the students soon boil over as investigating detective Lt. Borges (Cosimo Cinieri) digs deeper, and uncovers a convoluted web of jealousies and in-fighting. But when George Webb (Ray Lovelock), a mysterious ex-actor appears, who also had ties to one of the victims, further distortions of the truth emerge… 

 

A slick but otherwise underdeveloped giallo, MURDER-ROCK: DANCING DEATH contains more twists than a rotini noodle, but the narrative – however far-fetched at times it may be – becomes most entertaining at its conclusion during the big reveal. Brimming with lots of close-ups of suspicious faces (a Fulci trademark), much of the interaction between the spandex/lycra-wearing protagonists is unimportant (“For a lousy part, you’d even sell your souls!”), but Olga Karlatos does instill some angst into her part growing understandably edgier as more of her dance troupe is murdered. Ray Lovelock, far-removed from his über-cool leading role in Jorge Grau’s seminal living dead film THE LIVING DEAD AT MANCHESTER MORGUE (1974), is first introduced haunting Candice’s dreams clutching the very same hatpin used in the murders, and whose character pulls in another few plot strings that are again reminiscent of the TNYR. Cosimo Cinieri, one of Fulci’s many stock actors also seen TNYR and MANHATTAN BABY (1982), really immerses himself in his role as the wry-tongued detective (“He’s not a psycho! He’s an asshole!”) who radiates a calm control throughout, which is in direct contrast to the cut-throat, fast-paced world of showbiz, so it’s no surprise he ends up being one of the few cast members who possesses any admirable traits.

 

While very competently executed across the boards, the most noteworthy aspect of Fulci’s film is Giuseppe Pinori’s highly-stylized camerawork whose occasional low-lighting design is by no means inappropriate within this coldly futuristic dance academy, a claustrophobic and unrelenting urban setting akin to a sort of purgatory set amidst the immorality of (in)human nature. It’s definitely one of Fulci’s most skillfully polished films from the ’80s, successfully emulating not only that cultural touchstone that is FLASHDANCE with its choreography of agile and toned limbs (in one brazen copycat scene from Lyne’s film, an actor even performs a water-soaked ‘flashdance’ at a nightclub), but some of Mario Bava’s most successful pictures as well with its vivid colour palette.

 

Although MURDER-ROCK: DANCING DEATH did receive a very belated U.S. theatrical run during the spring of 1989 as THE DEMON IS LOOSE, the film was never released on North American English-friendly VHS. Fans had to track down either the 1987 French-Canadian Video Vision VHS (“The frenetic rhythm will drag them to their deaths!”) or the Italian-language Domo Video VHS tape, which could be found in most Italian video stores. With the advent of DVD, Fulci’s off-beat thriller finally managed to snag an impressive, fully-loaded 2-disc DVD release in 2006 thanks to Media Blasters’ sub-label Shriek Show, but in 2018, the film arrived on Blu-ray courtesy of Scorpion Releasing in a much-improved restoration, which benefitted the film’s striking style immensely. Along with an audio commentary by Splintered Visions author Troy Howarth (more on that later), Scorpion’s disc also included an entertaining interview with the always wonderful Geretta Geretta (25m11s), wherein she talks about her time working with Fulci and how she landed her role in this “dance giallo.” Although she never had any problems working with the temperamental director, she did witness “the whole Fulci effect” and admits he “didn’t suffer any fools.” She also concedes that she doesn’t have too many stories from the set, but does express her love working alongside Olga Karlatos (“Her acting is so perfect!”) and was happy to be a part of it. Lastly, she delves into her other Italian film roles such as Joe D’Amato’s 2020 TEXAS GLADIATORS (1983), Bruno Mattei’s RATS: NIGHT OF TERROR (1984), and Lamberto Bava’s DEMONS (1985) as well as the confusing origin of her many screen names. Make-up artist Franco Casagni in interviewed in Pins Through the Heart (13m40s) where he goes over the early stages of his career, his respect for Fulci, the challenges of the make-up continuity with the dancers, and some of the issues with the retractable pin, which utilized glucose-made blood that made it jam. The film’s French-language trailer, and additional ones for some of Scorpion’s other Italian releases are also included. 

 

Perhaps it was inevitable, but Vinegar Syndrome’s newly-restored UHD and Blu-ray was a tremendous surprise just the same, which not only features a brand new “4K scan from the original camera negative”, but a whole slew of newly-produced special features sure to please fans of the film. As good as Scorpion’s disc was, the VS release is another significant upgrade, which includes HDR10 compatible Dolby Vision and helps better preserve the carefully composed visual aesthetic missing from previous releases; it’s a flawless restoration, which establishes a far more immersive experience for this long-misunderstood and oft-maligned film. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 stereo English and Italian 1.0 mono audio options (the latter with newly-translated English subtitles) also sound excellent with Keith Emerson’s highly-divisive score and pounding soundscape adding a surge of energy into its many sweaty dance numbers.

 

The extensive special features begin with the aforementioned Troy Howarth audio commentary, which has been ported over from Scorpion’s disc. In it, Howarth attempts to “mount a little defense” for this film, which he feels shouldn’t be dismissed as a “Lucio Fulci breakdancing dud.” He praises the film’s “visual flair”, which he believes plays like a film version of Mario Bava’s “The Drop of Water” segment from BLACK SABBATH (1963) showcasing the amazing technicians Fulci worked with over the years. Other topics discussed include how MURDER-ROCK was the first film in a proposed trilogy of similarly themed gialli, an idea which was eventually scrapped due to Fulci’s looming health issues, its “cleverly layered” plot and interesting character motivations, the usual “lapses of logic and contrivance”, all of the cast members, and even most of the English voice talent including old hand Edmund Purdom (he dubs actor Claudio Cassinelli) whose “impeccable diction” is unmistakable. As can be deduced from the above description, this is another engrossing listen, which sheds plenty of light on this unconventional film, while also acknowledging the film’s flaws, and its place among Fulci’s large body of work. Excellent stuff!

 

Highlighting the hard work of film historians Eugenio Ercolani and Federico Caddeo, VS’s disc also includes an assortment of featurettes beginning with Ballet in Blood (27m49s), an interview with actor Robert Gligorov who confesses that he’s had “an adventurous life.” Born in the former Yugoslavia, he talks about his early stints working on ‘photoplays’, which eventually led him to the Roman film industry and one of his first roles in Umberto Lenzi’s CICCIABOMBA (a.k.a. FATTY GIRL GOES TO NEW YORK, 1982). Naturally, his discussion eventually shifts to MURDER-ROCK, which he says was a “little bundle of magic.” In Hellfant Prodige (9m35s), former child actor Silvia Collatina, talks about how she was “never forced into a role” thanks to her protective mother, the competition among other child actors in Rome, the importance of her of role in MURDER-ROCK, and how she remains “stuck in the ’80s.” Renowned among Italian horror junkies for his role in Fulci’s ZOMBIE (1979), popular Fulci stock player Al Cliver (a.k.a. Pier Luigi Conti) is interviewed in Lucio’s Pet (13m33s) where he chats about his early film appearances, his first meeting with Fulci at the ZOMBIE production office, and his general dislike of horror movies (“I found the cannibal ones absolutely repulsive!”). Although he had a fruitful relationship with Fulci, he speaks candidly about the famously unpredictable director who “treated women terribly” and had poor hygiene (“He was just like a kid, he loved getting dirty!”), but despite these behaviours, he always enjoyed his company.

 

In what turned out to be his last interview (circa 2018), Giuseppe Pinori reminisces about his interesting career in Lighting Murder (26m33s) where he frequently divided his time working in advertising between his assorted film projects. Inspired by paintings, he wished more directors would be better versed in the art of cinematography, but praised Fulci for his knowledge (“He was sure of himself and knew what he wanted.”), which also allowed him to experiment a little more on MURDER-ROCK with such filters as the “black Dior sock” that guaranteed effective filtration with better contrast and more preservation of colour saturation; it’s a wonderfully detailed interview about one of the less-talked about, but no-less talented, Italian DPs. And speaking of talent, the usually reclusive Gianfranco Clerici participates in an audio interview (his first ever) in A Pen in the Dark (13m56s) who discloses that “he always liked doing new and different things” and doesn’t consider himself an artist but a “professional craftsman” instead. He also discusses his long-time affiliation with Fortunato Misiano’s Romana Film, and how Fulci was one of the best directors he’d ever met who “embodied the very essence of cinema.” Another person to “touch upon” all Italian film categories is writer/producer/director Augusto Caminito whose career is examined in detail by Eugenio Ercolani in Augusto’s Empire (32m), which got underway thanks to his ties with Roberto Rossellini. He eventually became a “powerhouse writer” when he became a part of “la bottega”, a group of writers molded by Rodolfo Sonego, who penned some of the most popular commedia all’italiana in the ’70s such as Luigi Comencini’s IL GATTO (1977), and by the end of the decade, he formed Scen.A Film (sometimes just spelled Scena Film), a production company which eventually produced MURDER-ROCK. Thanks to Eugenio Ercolani, further discussions about Caminto take place in The Murder Instigator (17m34), which are nicely intercut with an on-camera interview with the late producer who talks about his goal to “produce high-profile Italian pictures.” He also has fond memories of working with Fulci (“I always liked him. He was a spontaneous man.”), even though he did not appreciate horror, which is the main impetus behind MURDER-ROCK’s lack of gore; Caminito did not want a “splatter-heavy” picture, but instead wanted to focus on an “innocent kind of eroticism.” Although he speaks warmly of Fulci, there was some strain between the two very different men (Caminito sometimes referred to Fulci as a cinghialotto or ‘little boar’), but Ercolani believes that “difficult collaborations can lead to interesting films.” 

 

Music historian and CEO of Four Flies Records, Pierpaolo De Sanctis is up next in Murder Prog (32m10s) wherein he examines the role of music in Fulci’s films as “key component” of his filmography whether it be jazz, “the dark side of Morricone” or a “throwback to the American folk tradition” in his western THE FOUR OF THE APOCALYPSE(1975). Naturally, Keith Emerson is discussed at length who seemed perfect for MURDER-ROCK. Silvia Collatina appears yet again in Child’s Play (24m29s), which is another excellent interview and more of a career overview where she fondly discusses some of her commercial work, her part in Sergio Martino’s THE GREAT ALLIGATOR (1979) where she was regarded as a sort of “mascot”, and her experience on both THE HOUSE BY THE CEMETERY (1981) and MURDER-ROCK, the second of which she got without auditioning because Fulci had “great regard for her.” And finally, author and screenwriter Antonio Tentori casually chats to Fulci in an archival audio interview with the director discussing the current situation of fantasy cinema and his latest project THE DEVIL’S HONEY (1987), which he describes as “intellectual sadomasochism.” The VS disc also includes the aforementioned Geretta Geretta interview from Scorpion’s disc as well as a re-edited version (8m15s) of the Franco Casagni interview. The film’s original English-language export trailer is finally included, too!

 

And if that weren’t enough, this attractively-packaged box set also includes a 40-page book featuring essays from several highly-respected writers including J.A. Kerswell from The Hysteria Lives!, the esteemed Stephen Thrower, author of Beyond Terror: The Films of Lucio Fulci (FAB Press, 1999), and Amanda Reyes, author of Are You in the House Alone? A TV Movie Compendium 1964 – 1999 (Headpress, 2017) all of whom add their usual expertise and wit to the project. There’s no doubt that MURDER-ROCK will still divide audiences, but for those that will allow themselves to become immersed in its strangely mesmerizing reality and dog-eat-dog world of showbiz will consider this one of the director’s more fascinating pictures with its eccentric and inimitable style. 

HELL OF THE LIVING DEAD - 4K UHD / BD REVIEW

Translation of an original Italian newspaper ad: “An overwhelming threat to all humanity.”  

During the ’Eighties, Bruno Mattei’s HELL OF THE LIVING DEAD (1980) was readily available as shelf-filler in the “horror” sections of virtually every video store in North America thanks to Vestron Video’s VHS and Beta videocassettes. While initially conceived as a cash-in on George A. Romero’s DAWN OF THE DEAD, this film’s U.S. theatrical and home video release as NIGHT OF THE ZOMBIES was promoted as a highly-ostensible companion-piece to Lucio Fulci’s ZOMBIE (1979), whose marketing campaign even promised “They Eat the Living!”, a cheeky tribute to Jerry Gross’ original “We Are Going to Eat You!” ad copy. Bearing some rudimentary - if key – similarities to Romero’s then-recent smash-hit, including that film’s Goblin score, which is brazenly pilfered here, HELL OF THE LIVING DEAD’s dark vision shall arguably stand as one of Mattei’s finest moments within the sphere of Italian horror.

 

Commencing the film in fine gloomy style, no sooner have the opening titles ended than several scientists and workers at Hope Center One have been contaminated by a mysterious green vapour and turned into flesh-eating zombies, a gruesome side-effect of ‘Operation Sweet Death.’ Developed by Professor Barrett (Joaquín Blanco), this experimental project is quickly deemed a “complete failure” when he reveals that “some kind of degenerative process has begun, which may by catastrophic for everybody!” This contamination also results in another violent altercation at the U.S. consulate in Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea where a gang of terrorists have taken one of “the highest-ranking magistrates in the city” hostage in the hopes of shutting down the Hope Centers, which, much like Romero’s film, also introduces our quartet of S.W.A.T. team members. Led by Lt. Mike London (“Robert O’Neill”/ José Gras), this tightly-knit foursome soon finds themselves in a jungle hell on a top-secret mission, but when their rendezvous at a native graveyard fails to materialize, they reluctantly team up with famed French journalist Lia Rousseau (Margit Evelyn Newton) and her cameraman Max (Gaby Renom). Amidst the usual strained psychological warfare and in-fighting, the group encounters hordes of the living dead as they venture to Hope Center One, only to learn the highly ironic truth behind the apocalypse…

 

Unlike its inspiration, HELL OF THE LIVING DEAD accents pulpy action and lots of gore over credible human drama with Mattei wasting no time getting down to the nitty-gritty, which includes zombie attacks, gut-spilling, and a lengthy shootout within the film’s first 15 minutes. Despite several potent ideas interspersed within Claudio Fragasso’s and Rossella Drudi’s script (who goes uncredited here), their original and much-grander treatment (which has finally been revealed in Brad Carter’s novelisation of the “mega-budget screenplay edition” of said film) was unfortunately never realized due to budgetary constraints. Behind Goblin’s dynamic orchestrations (which even includes tracks from Luigi Cozzi’s CONTAMINATION [1980] and Joe D’Amato’s BEYOND THE DARKNESS [1979]), and its generally grim outlook, Mattei attempts some pointed and pertinent commentary about world politics and societal malaise (“The apocalypse is bearing down upon us!” Exclaims Lia), but he never takes the time to fully develop these ideas and soon slips back into more familiar territory with lots of killing and lots of blood spilled, but not before he and his scriptwriters deliver the film’s exceedingly cynical development.

 

Considering the picture’s obvious limitations and strictly Spanish locales, Mattei and his crew also manage to come up with some decent tropical settings (the lush Vallvidrera woods near Barcelona filling in nicely for Papua New Guinea), which are chock-full of zombie extras, some of which are decked-out in undeniably gruesome zombie make-up. However, the whole careful illusion is immediately shattered by the inclusion of painfully obvious stock footage, most of which usually includes innocuous shots of various wild animals, but in a possible nod to Italian cannibal films (which were also popular at the time), Mattei even includes long stretches of solemn, real-life tribal funerals, which are easily the most harrowing, stomach-churning moments in the entire film. Of course, this cut-and-paste technique was nothing new to signor Mattei who also employed this highly-dubious practice for his various surrealistically ‘authentic’ sex-themed mondo films such as PORNO NIGHTS OF THE WORLD (1977).

 

As Lt. Mike London, tough-talking José Gras exhibits less sanctity for human life than the zombies themselves, and is only interested in completing his mission no matter the cost. Initially galaxies apart from Margit Newton’s character Lia in both profession and personality, his hatred for his purely coincidental ‘enemy’ accounts for most of the film’s dramatic conflict, but like most of Mattei’s filmography, much of the film’s interesting ideas are also drowned in over-the-top histrionics and hilarious English dubbing. While not without its share of decent lines (“Why should nature begin breaking its own rules?”), dialogue also incorporates several – um – jewels (e.g., “You shit-faced bastards!”) to keep trash movie fans suitably entertained. As the wide-eyed perspirant Zantoro, frequent character actor Franco Garofalo (who also appeared in Mattei’s and Fragasso’s nunsploitation two-fer THE TRUE STORY OF THE NUN OF MONZA [1980] and THE OTHER HELL [1980] the same year) chews the scenery and swallows it whole without passing for breath, so logically he gets most of the best lines (“Whoa! These mothers have got more lives than a cat!”), but even he admits (in an interview located elsewhere on the disc) that Mattei allowed the actors to “ham it up” a little too much. 

 

While most critics were generally unkind to this shameless, cobbled together rip-off of DAWN OF THE DEAD, it has nonetheless remained in print throughout the history of home video, and in the UK as ZOMBIE CREEPING FLESH, the film was also caught up in the video nasties furor where it was classified as a Section 2 video nasty. Although never released on Laserdisc, it did receive a nice widescreen videocassette release in Japan courtesy of TDK Super Video, which remained the optimal release for English-speaking fans of the film until it hit DVD in 2002 via Anchor Bay. Given this was the early days of the format, AB's disc turned out to be a one hell of an upgrade over its analogue brethren, which also included an interview with Mattei entitled Hell Rats of the Living Dead (8m38s), a poster and still gallery, cast and crew biographies, filmographies, the film’s English-language export trailer (3m48s), and a 4-page liner notes booklet, which included a conversation with director Scooter McCrae and former Fangoria editor Michael Gingold. Of course, other DVDs from around the world soon followed including a Blue Underground re-release in 2007, and later in 2014, a BU Blu-ray double feature paired up with Mattei’s RATS: NIGHT OF TERROR (1984). 

 

Taken from the film’s original camera negative, BU’s new HD transfer was another huge leap forward in terms of picture quality and the DTS-HD master audio 2.0 mono track was likewise nice and clear, which allowed viewers to better to appreciate the off-the-wall English dubbing, which includes such voice talent stalwarts as Edward Mannix voicing José Gras, and a truly manic Frank Von Kuegelgen having loads of fun as the voice of Zantoro. However, it should be noted this Blu-ray was very slightly – almost imperceptibly – edited due to some unorthodox splices in the OCN, which required the removal of some frames, a fact which was revealed on numerous forums. Extras included the previously-seen Hell Rats of the Living Dead featurette, the English export trailer, and the film’s Italian trailer (3m47s) as well. The disc also included Bonded by Blood (50m14s), one of the very best and entirely unique making-of documentaries, which has Severin’s David Gregory casually interviewing Fragasso and Drudi at an Italian restaurant where they prepare dinner whilst Fragasso discusses his career, the film’s in question, his directing work, and even the subtleties of Italian cooking. Other turnouts in the doc also include Margit Evelyn Newton, Franco Garofalo, and actors / stunt performers Ottaviano Dell’Acqua and Massimo Vanni as they visit an aging De Paolis Studios where Rats was shot. Great stuff!

 

In the UK, 88 Films released this former video nasty on both Blu-ray and 4K UHD in 2017 and 2023, respectively, and while the 2017 Blu looked virtually identical in terms of picture quality to BU’s earlier release (including the subtle edits), 88 Films did include both the English and Italian audio tracks in LPCM 2.0 mono audio (with optional English subtitles on the latter) alongside a set of new special features including an interview with Margie Newton entitled Margie Among the Living Dead (22m06s), and Welcome to Hell (26m11s), yet another conversation with Fragasso wherein he talks about his entire career including his working period with Mattei. The film’s English-language export trailer was also present as was an 8-page liner notes booklet with writing from Marek Zarcharkiw. Unfortunately, 88 Films’ initial print run of their 4K UHD/BD combo was met with a good deal of controversy, but after loads of online grumbling, a replacement program was eventually put in place, and while not having the time to check these corrected discs, it has since been confirmed that not only do they look terrific, these new transfers also reinstated many of the cuts which plagued both the earlier BU and 88 Films Blu-rays. For the record, the 2023 edition also included a newly-recorded audio commentary with authors and film historians Eugenio Ercolani and Troy Howarth, further interviews with Newton (26m36s), Fragasso (39m02s) and Drudi (22m56s), and a featurette detailing the film's place within the Video Nasty era (27m52s). The film’s trailer, a fold-out poster (including newly-commissioned art from Graham Humphreys which also adorns the slipcover) and a 12-page liner notes booklet with writing from Francesco Massaccesi finish off the extras. 

 

Given the film’s on-going popularity on the home video market, it was inevitable that a 4K UHD would eventually hit North American shores, and who better to release this beloved Italian horror film and former Section 2 video nasty but Severin Films. “Scanned in 4K from the original camera negative,” their new 4K UHD (with Dolby Vision) looks and sounds outstanding, which has superior detail that accents plenty of luminous highlights like glistening gore, and an overall richness (especially in terms of the film’s colour palette) missing from previous editions. While the numerous instances of stock footage still stick out like a sore thumb, even these haphazardly inserted scenes also seem improved with Severin’s superb transfer, and like the 88 Films disc, this new printing also includes the full uncut version with all of the previously-mentioned edits restored. The DTS-HD master audio 2.0 mono tracks, which include both English and Italian (with optional English subtitles on the latter) likewise sound nice and crisp with most of the aggression centred around the film’s many bursts of machine gun fire and Goblin’s pounding score. Closed captions are also included. 

 

As expected, Severin have loaded their 2-disc set with several fabulous special features not seen on previous editions beginning with Go To Hell – A Talk with Bruno Mattei(12m29s), an archival interview with the late director where he talks about his love for horror movies, how this project came to fruition, his love of improvisation, Fragasso’s patience with actors, and how the two men formed a “perfect symbiosis.” In The Beauty and the Zombies – A Talk with Margie Newton (11m21s), she goes over her surprise of getting the lead role (“It was a mix of joy and fear!”) who was chosen because the directors wanted an “international face” and not Italian. She also goes on to talk about the production and the “open-ended hours” of the shoot, which allowed her to do plenty of sightseeing around Barcelona, her shyness about the nudity in the film, Fragasso’s and Mattei’s working relationship, and the arduous make-up required for the film. Next up, Franco Garofalo is interviewed in My Big Chance (21m40s), a lengthy sit down with the charismatic actor who reminisces about his many early roles and his time on said film, which was “an adventure inside an adventure” due to the production’s limited means. Despite feeling “a bit uncomfortable” within this genre of film, Fragasso gave him a lot a space, which allowed for a lot of improvisation whereas Mattei “brought a lot of energy” to the set. In what turns out to be a nice surprise, the once elusive José Gras appears for an on-camera interview in the aptly-titled Lt. Mike London is Back (26m35s) wherein he discusses how he obtained the role, Fragasso’s involvement in the picture, the production itself and his many co-stars including Victor Isreal and Franco Garofalo (“He had a quality. I liked him.”), the film’s premiere in Stiges, the origin of his ‘Robert O’Neill’ pseudonym, and how he eventually fell out of acting as roles began to dry up. Spanish character actor Bernard Seray is up next in I Will Never Be A Zombie (10m55s) in which he also talks about his early career as a fashion model, which led to his meeting with Spanish director Ignacio F. Iquino and his subsequent role in the director’s LOS VIOLADORES DEL AMANECER (1978). As for HELL OF THE LIVING DEAD, he signed on for the role with the clear intention of “not going to be a zombie” because he was a staunch vegetarian and didn’t want to eat raw meat, and despite his small role, he enjoyed his time on the picture, which he regards as a “real cinematographic feat.” And for those interested in such trivia, he reveals the zombie child in the film is the grandson of Spanish director José Antonio de la Loma! Lastly, Pep Ballester is interviewed in My Son Is A Zombie (8m05s) who also goes over his early start and how his career changed after the death of dictator Generalissimo Francisco Franco, and in an interesting bit of minutiae, he alludes to some possibly alternate scenes, which were shot for his death scene at the hands of his zombified son. 

 

Taking a break from the many actors who appear in the film, producer José María Cunilles steps in front of the camera next in Producing the Apocalypse (5m39s), where he reveals this was a project initiated by Italian producer Roberto Di Girolamo, the film’s “complicated shoot” due to the many locations used throughout the production, and the film’s distribution. Even though the picture “sold well in many countries” at a “fixed price” and went mostly straight to video, the shifty U.S. distributors at Motion Picture Marketing released it to theatres without his knowledge. Next up, Xavi Sánchez Pons and José Gras guide us through the many locations used in the film in Papua New Guinea in Barcelona (42m24s) beginning with the Teknon Clinic, which doubled for the U.S. consulate in the film, the aforementioned – and still operational - power plant at the end of the fast-flowing Besembocadura del Besòs river, the Merendero Font de las Planes in Collserola, a now popular camping destination, which has changed significantly over the last 40 years since it was seen in the film as the abandoned mission, and of course, they also visit the lush forests of Vallvidrera. Last but not least, in Peter and the Test Tube Babies – Zombie Creeping Flesh (17m40s), frontman Peter Bywaters of the British punk rock band is interviewed wherein he talks about why he got involved in punk music, his early gigs (including lots of footage of them performing), some of their wonderfully absurd lyrics, his numerous albums such as “Pissed and Proud,” and of course their 1983 single Zombie Creeping Flesh is discussed at length. Finally, the film’s English-language export trailer (3m45s) concludes the extras. And for anyone that orders directly from Severin Films, their limited edition 3-disc 4K UHD/BD also includes the film’s soundtrack CD (13 tracks, 39m11s) and an exclusive slipcover.

 

Despite some momentary flashes of ingenuity and an energetic, gore-filled narrative, Bruno Mattei’s HELL OF THE LIVING DEAD shall, if nothing else, forever remain noteworthy for its sheer, lowbrow audacity, and now more than ever, there’s no better way to watch this fan-favourite than via Severin Films' stunning must-own 4K UHD.