Lamberto Bava’s DEMONS (1985) and its sequel DEMONS 2 (1986) were sizable hits around the world, and based on the strength of his work on those films, Bava was entrusted by Reteitalia’s Silvio Berlusconi to try and deliver the same magic to the small screen. The result was BRIVIDO GIALLO, a series of four pictures with titles that included GRAVEYARD DISTURBANCE (1987), UNTIL DEATH (1988), THE OGRE (1989) and DINNER WITH A VAMPIRE (1989), which were eventually aired on Italian television in 1989 with little to no fanfare. While these above-average tele-films did eventually find an audience through several home video releases around the world (even before their airings on Italian television), their notoriously poor reception didn’t fare well for Bava’s next television series ALTA TENSIONE (a.k.a. HIGH TENSION), which was abruptly dropped from Reteitalia’s broadcast schedule upon completion. Featuring another quartet of films, Severin Films have miraculously resurrected these highly-watchable, and at times gleefully violent pictures on Blu-ray, which should definitely help develop and cement their stature among fans of Italian horror.
Based on a story by the mysterious Ira Goldman with a script by the incredibly prolific Dardano Sacchetti, THE PRINCE OF TERROR (1989) is a fitting start to Severin’s box set and a significant entry in the series on account of its neat self-awareness about the erstwhile Italian movie industry. Tomas Arana stars as famed horror director Vincent Omen, who, in keeping with the film’s title, is better known under his egotistical alter-ego, The Prince of Terror. Following a botched day of shooting on his latest opus (“The scene is ridiculous! It sucks!”), he fires his long-established screenwriter Paul Hilary (David Brandon), and much to Paul’s chagrin, he vows to re-write the entire film. Early on, Vincent is interviewed by a plucky reporter (Virginia Bryant) at his favourite golf course where he talks about his work (“I like telling stories about life, and life is full of horror.”) and resolutely insists that he’s “pretty much like everybody else,” despite having a dog named Demon and golf balls labeled 666. Later that night, as he prepares for a dinner party with his wife Betty (Carole Andre) and his daughter Susan (Joyce Pitti), Vincent’s philosophies about making horror films become all-too real when a pair of men invade their home…
Helped along by slick and glossy production values, THE PRINCE OF TERROR is essentially yet another variation of the home invasion theme, but Sacchetti’s quirky screenplay also hints at his many real-life disputes with directors such as Dario Argento and Lucio Fulci. As Nathaniel Thompson and Troy Howarth point out in their audio commentary (more on that later), Sacchetti’s career was “tainted with anger, jealousy and resentment” over some of the criticisms directed at his scripts, so this may have been a “fantasy scenario” of sorts for the embittered writer. At any rate, the film adds plenty of fresh ideas to the same old story, which helps keep everything incredibly entertaining. Also, thanks to some strong performances, the generally tense and rather menacing mood is nicely sustained throughout as Vincent and his family try and dissuade their attackers, which allows the wild scenario to stretch its steadily deceptive logic, including several surprises best left unspoiled here, but rest assured, that final twist is a real eye-opener, which viewers won’t soon forget.
Although THE PRINCE OF TERROR did receive a belated home video release on Italian VHS, most Italo horror fans (at least in North America) first caught up with this unique picture via awful dubbed-down copies that did the film no favours whatsoever. As with the other titles in this set, TPOT was scanned and restored in 2K from its original camera negative, and the results are quite stunning, which helps bring out all its previously unseen colors and textures. Each film in the set also comes with DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono tracks in both English and Italian, which sound clean and free of any distortion, and in the case of TPOT, it was shot using live sound, so English is by far and away the preferred option.
Given the rather fascinating premise, Severin have commissioned several worthy special features for their disc beginning with an audio commentary with Mondo Digital’s Nathaniel Thompson and So Deadly, So Perverse: 50 Years of Giallo Films (Midnight Marquee Press, 2015) author Troy Howarth in which they enthusiastically discuss its origins including the “playful meta aspect,” the film’s unfortunate release schedule (“The timing was just off.”), and how it packs in a lot of interesting elements into a unique “pressure-cooker dynamic.” They also go over Sacchetti’s “quick and efficient” writing style and his numerous run-ins with directors over the years, which possibly led to this very odd “revenge script.” Naturally, this is another very valuable listen with both men providing plenty of engaging insight into not only TPOT, but Lamberto Bava’s vastly underappreciated television work as well. In The Adventures of Anfri (16m46s), Bava sits down for a talk about his production company Anfri, which he formed with Andrea Piazzesi, their production deal with Reteitalia, his enduring – and important - friendship with Dario Argento and Daria Nicolodi, his desire to shoot in 35mm, his reasons for switching to television, and how he was always “mindful of his father’s teachings.” In We Call Him Maestro (17m52s), Lamberto Bava sits down for another on-camera interview where he discusses said film in greater detail including its “mockery of the horror genre business,” his relationship with Sacchetti, the decision to shoot using live sound, the actors, and the film’s many special effects.
Based upon a short story by Ukrainian-Italian author Giorgio Scerbanenco (1911-1969), Bava’s THE MAN WHO WOULDN’T DIE (1989) marked the first time Lamberto Bava filmed one of the author’s stories. Regarded as one of Italy’s most popular crime/mystery novelists, Scerbanenco’s books have periodically been adapted to the Italian movie screen in such films as Duccio Tessari’s DEATH OCCURRED LAST NIGHT (1970) and Fernando Di Leo’s MILAN CALIBRE 9 (1972), so this was a nice change of pace for the director. Shot in the beautiful seaside towns of Santa Margherita Ligure, Portofino, and Genoa, the story centres on a group of thieves led by Fabrizio (Keith Van Hoven from Lucio Fulci’s THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS [1989]) that have been hired by high-end fence Mme. Janeau (Martine Brochard) to steal several works of fine art from a luxurious palazzo. Everything proceeds smoothly, but when Gianetto (Gino Concari), a hotheaded member of this tight-knit crew, steals a priceless Renoir painting for himself and hides it within the house, further complications arise when he also rapes the bound and gagged housemaid as her husband watches. Thanks to a swift kick in the head from her trussed-up hubby, this reckless scumbag gets his deserved comeuppance, leaving him catatonic and spitting blood. Left for dead, the second half of the film follows the dogged pursuit of the thieves (by someone in a black trench coat and large fedora, no less!) amidst the sordid, shadow realm of the underworld, while Mme. Janeau tries to re-appropriate that missing painting…
Part crime actioner and part heist film, THE MAN WHO WOULDN’T DIE is also equal parts giallo, and much like the other Scerbanenco contributions from the previous decade, it’s populated by a number of unscrupulous characters, each firmly believing that the ends justify the means in the realization of their goals; perhaps the most ruthless of all is the elegant and stylishly dressed Mme. Janeau (superbly realized by Euro veteran Martine Brochard), who straddles that twilight zone between the working-class thieves and the über-rich whose obsessions know no limits. Sophisticated enough to avoid most clichés, Bava and long-time editor Daniele Alabiso deliver some fairly tight pacing, and despite a couple of short-comings, including Gianetto’s middling relationship with his concerned girlfriend (Daniela Franchi), which even attempts to instill some rather laughable – but well-intended - social commentary (“When you’re born wrong, it isn’t easy getting right.” Remarks Gianetto.), it makes for an altogether engrossing and satisfying addition to the series, which is further bolstered by another stunning restoration.
Extras begin with The Scerbanenco Touch (22m17s), which has Lamberto Bava on hand again to talk about the author, the many recurring themes prevalent in his work, and how this project was originally started by his father Mario. He also praises the aforementioned locations used for the film, as well as his assistant director Ferzan Ozpetek and some of “formidable” actors in the main roles. Utilizing a lengthy archival interview with Dardano Sacchetti where he discusses some of his earlier work, Bava once again chimes in about his thoughts on Sacchetti in Stephen King Italian Style (15m23s) and, despite being friends, admits he always had a “chip on his shoulder.”
Taking a decidedly different tack, the third film in Severin’s set accents talkative drama over visual viscera, but SCHOOL OF FEAR (1989) also offers plenty of mounting tension and a dominant tone of unease in this simple enough premise about evil tykes at an upper-crust school. Staying resolutely within the bounds of plausibility, Diana Berti (Alessandra Acciai) arrives at the Giacomo Stuz private school to replace the previous teacher who mysteriously fell to her death on the school grounds. Despite being warmly welcomed by most of the staff, even if for the wrong reasons (“She’s good looking, pretty young and has great legs.”), she begins to sense that something “doesn’t ring true for the way those kids behave in school.” Resentful for poking her nose into their hermetically sealed world of deception and dark games, these kids even resort to digging up former traumas from Diana’s past, but despite all this, even the local cop (Jean Herbert), who ostensibly at least sympathizes with her plight, refuses to believe her, which is further stressed by the film’s final disorienting revelation.
Severely testing the courage of Diana’s convictions to their very core, Alessandra Acciai puts in a wonderful, grounded performance as the terrorized teacher where she is given a lot of breathing room to help develop her character. Penned by Robert Gandus (who also wrote Lamberto Bava’s MACABRE [a.k.a. FROZEN TERROR, 1980], his first – and arguably – best film) with further additions from Sacchetti and Giorgio Stegani, strong writing and performances all-round (including Daria Nicolodi as the school’s headmaster) are further supported by Boswell’s assured score, which compliments the grim narrative without ever overwhelming it. The impressive Livorno locations also add sufficient resonance whose hidden secrets convey a power over not just the kids, but many of its long-term inhabitants. Although boasting very little bloodshed, SCHOOL OF FEAR is quite tense and very compelling and can definitely hold its own alongside some of Lamberto Bava’s best work.
Bava returns for another on-camera interview to discuss SCHOOL OF FEAR in The Tale of Evil Children (18m15s) where he shares his thoughts on kids in horror, how Walt Disney’s BAMBI (1942) “freaked him out” as a child, and how death affects children differently. He also acknowledges his writers and actors with a special mention for Acciai and Nicolodi, the benefits of the Livorno locations, and how they played a part in the origin of his subsequent series FANTAGHIRÒ (a.k.a. THE CAVE OF THE GOLDEN ROSE, 1991-1996). Writer Robert Gandus is interviewed next in Play the Game (9m45s) and firstly discusses his work on MACABRE and Bava’s talent as a director, how SOF was inspired by Alfred Hitchcock’s ROPE (1948), and how it was originally slated to be his directorial debut. Next up, composer Simon Boswell sits down for an interview in When Bava Met Boswell (31m56s) where he declares “all roads lead to Dario Argento when it comes to my Italian film work,” which commences with a discussion about his “fantastic opportunity” to work on Argento’s PHENOMENA (a.k.a. CREEPERS, 1984), and the many future opportunities it created working on “rip-offs and B-movies,” but he is most enthusiastic about his 11-film collaboration with Bava whom he regards as “approachable and polite,” and who let him do his thing without any issues.
As with the other films in this series, seeing EYEWITNESS (1989) again in such an optimal presentation brought about a whole new appreciation for this solid suspense yarn with unavoidable gialli elements. Best known for her roles in Michele Soavi’s STAGE FRIGHT (1987) and THE CHURCH (1988), Barbara Cupisti stars as Elisa, a blind woman who becomes trapped in a shopping mall after some petty shoplifting, but then inadvertently witnesses the brutal murder of a young woman (Loredana Romito) at the hands of the mall’s manager (Alessio Orano). Consequent to his initial mistaken suspicions of Elisa and her friend Karl (Giuseppe Pianviti), Inspector Barker (Stefano Davanzati) enlists the cooperation of Elisa because she can “recognize people by their vibrations,” but when Karl implicates himself by running, he becomes the prime suspect, but the real killer begins covering his tracks to try and keep his true identity incognito, which of course, results in even more murders…
Written by seasoned bigwigs Massimo De Rita and Giorgio Stegani (from a story by Andrea Piazzesi), their script accents plenty of mind games between the polizia and sospetti, as when Elisa knowingly points out a potential suspect (Francesco Casale) from a line-up to help protect her friend Karl or when the killer attempts to sow seeds of suspicion by introducing previously unseen evidence to the police. In the interests of making headway with his investigation, Barker also resorts to several instances of sly manipulation during his budding relationship with Elisa (“If you can’t see me, feel me.”) and uses her without a moment’s notice whenever required. As Elisa, Cupisti is wonderful as the prime, if blind, suspect whose initial naïveté quickly supplants that of Barker as the real brains of the investigation, and who also isn’t afraid to use her body to entice and influence the Inspector, even as he and his partner (a solid turn from ex-pat Mary Sellers, who also appeared in STAGE FRIGHT) must wade through a maze of false leads. As the sufficiently intimidating killer, Alessio Orano, who also appeared in papa Bava’s LISA AND THE DEVIL (1972), also relishes his part as the cold-blooded and reprehensible scuzzbag, whose vile nature contributes significantly to the film’s general nastiness, a throwback of sorts to the trashy Italo ’70s spirit, which is further capped off by the film’s unforgettable ending.
Once again, Severin’s new 2K restoration vastly improves on any and all previous bootleg copies and wonky TV broadcasts drawing attention to DP Gianfranco Transunto’s (he also photographed the previous three segments in this series) strong visual aesthetic with an image so crisp, colourful and detailed, it’s sure to amaze viewers at just how good this new restoration looks, which helps further support the film’s immersive atmosphere.
For the last film in this set, Severin have once again provided an impressive array of special features beginning with an audio commentary from returning Italo film experts Nathaniel Thompson and Troy Howarth where they offer in-depth observations into this “visually fascinating” film including some of its shocking “sexual assault aspects,” how Bava “tests the boundaries of what a giallo is” and how it “plays a lot of tribute to other gialli,” the film’s interesting score and many “over-lapping cues,” the distinctive quality of each segment of the series, and contributions about most of the cast and crew in what is another standout listen and valuable addition to this set.
In the appropriately-titled The Last Giallo (15m42s), Lamberto Bava sits down for his final interview in this set, which has him going over said film’s beginnings with an emphasis on De Rita’s working methods (“He wrote everything by hand, with pen and pencil.”), and De Rita’s enduring friendship with his father Mario Bava. Next up, the lovely Barbara Cupisti is interviewed in Love is Blind (12m26s) where she reminiscences about the first-time she met Michele Soavi at an audition and their subsequent relationship, her first role in Lucio Fulci’s THE NEW YORK RIPPER (1982), her time working with Lamberto and the “great care and focus” she put into her role.
In what is an already stacked set, Severin also includes a Bava / Boswell Compilation CD (15 tracks, 43m41s) of several previously unreleased tracks, which only sweetens this already pivotal – and must-have - collection of criminally-neglected TV terrors. Highly recommended!
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