At the outset of the ’80s, Italian genre films continued to remain commercially viable, thanks more or less, to the gore-soaked living dead films initiated by the worldwide success of George A. Romero’s DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978). Films such as Lucio Fulci’s ZOMBIE (1979) and Umberto Lenzi’s CITY OF THE WALKING DEAD (a.k.a. NIGHTMARE CITY, 1980) garnered healthy profits from international markets, which continued to breathe life into what was essentially a dwindling industry. As with other previous genre cycles, directors such as Fulci, Lenzi, and many of their contemporaries were once again propelled to the forefront as they worked on post-apocalyptic action films, mythical strongman and barbarian clones, and of course, lots of gory horror films. However, this sudden surge of productivity was short-lived thanks to the increasing popularity of television and an influx of big budget U.S. productions, which not only captured a large share of the Italian market, but rendered many of these small-scale productions obsolete. In what was to become the last bastion of support for Italian genre films, many of these productions retreated to television where directors such as Lamberto Bava helmed several films for Italian TV giant Reteitalia and their horror series BRIVIDO GIALLO. In 1989, both Fulci and Lenzi were also commissioned by Reteitalia (and Luciano Martino’s Dania Film) to helm two films each for LA CASA MALEDETTE (a.k.a. THE HOUSES OF DOOM), yet another four-part horror series aimed for television, but in a cruel twist of fate, they were deemed too strong by the network, and later, unceremoniously dumped onto home video. Outside of hard-to-find foreign VHS tapes, these films remained quite elusive prior to the DVD era, and even then, lackluster transfers didn’t do them any favours whatsoever. Fortunately, thanks to the dedicated efforts of Cauldron films, who have taken a keen interest in releasing many late-breaking Italian pictures from the genre trenches such as Giuliano Carnimeo’s RAT MAN (1987) and Sergio Martino’s AMERICAN RICKSHAW (a.k.a. AMERICAN TIGER, 1989), the much-anticipated HOUSES OF DOOM series has finally made its auspicious Blu-ray debut in a lavish 4-disc box set that is sure to please fans of Italian horror.
Beginning with disc one, Lucio Fulci’s THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS (1989) is, in all probability, one of the most recognized titles from this TV series, and is yet another variation on the dreamlike aesthetic found in his celebrated classics THE GATES OF HELL (a.k.a. CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD, 1980) and THE BEYOND (1981), both of which contained minimal characterization, little to no logic, and plenty of unforgettable horror set-pieces. In THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS, a large villa in the Italian countryside is home to Victor (Paolo Paoloni) and Sarah (Bettine Milne), an elderly couple who have a strange fascination with clocks (“My angels are behaving themselves well today.”), and an unhealthy aversion to anyone snooping around their house, which even includes their inquisitive maid (Carla Cassola) who is violently killed for her indiscretion. Later, when three delinquents (Karina Huff, Keith Van Hoven and Peter Hintz) storm the house in search of fast-cash and cheap thrills, an altercation ensues leaving Victor and Sarah dead, along with their jack-of-all-trades servant Peter (Al Cliver). And then all the clocks in the house begin to move backwards as does time itself…
Much like the elderly owners of the villa, THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS moves at a leisurely pace, which not only highlights the solemn nature of the entire film, but nicely generates a creeping aura of claustrophobia. Following a confoundingly cryptic opening involving a cellar and a couple of rotting corpses, the film remains strangely mesmerizing as it flirts with time, space and a detached parallel reality. Considering the film’s genesis, Fulci’s film is definitely one of the most violent, splatter-filled examples of horror on the small screen, which features numerous impalements, bloody shotgun blasts, and even some living dead. In direct contrast to the potent atmosphere and gleefully over-the-top acts of ultraviolence, most of the dramatic interplay between the cast is fairly disposable, but Vince Tempera’s often sombre score also contributes to the dominant tone of eerie unease, while DP Nino Celeste conjures up some evocative imagery, which only adds to its weird alternate reality.
For the more dedicated collector, THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS was first legitimately available as a Japanese VHS videocassette via TCC Home Video, which was widescreen and in English with Japanese subtitles. In 2002, the film made its official U.S. home video debut on DVD thanks Shriek Show, which featured a solid transfer of the film that was presented in a customary 1.78:1 aspect ratio and included an English Dolby Digital 2.0 audio track. The minimal extras included on-camera interviews with actors Paolo Paoloni (5m23s) and Carla Cassola (9m32s, who would later turn up in Fulci’s DEMONIA [1990]), all of whom briefly discuss their experience of working with Fulci, and many of the film’s make-up effects, but while Paoloni praises Fulci’s professionalism on set, Cassola tells the complete opposite when she was buried alive for the film’s climax for the better part of half-an-hour! A super quick interview with Al Cliver (1m32s) is also included wherein he recounts a funny anecdote from the set of Fulci’s ZOMBIE. The film’s hastily put-together – and overlong – trailer (4m42s) is also included alongside trailers for some of Shriek Show’s other product of the time.
It goes without saying the Cauldron’s Blu-ray, which features a new 2K restoration taken from the original camera negative, stands head and shoulders above any other previous release with an overall sharper and consistently impressive image; a small miracle given the “soft focus lenses” used throughout most of the filming. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 audio tracks are included in both English and Italian (the latter with English subtitles) and sound very clean, which helps better appreciate some of Fulci’s characteristic sound effects.Cauldron has gone all out on disc one with several interesting extra features beginning with a solid, in-depth audio commentary from Splintered Visions author Troy Howarth, film historian and Darkening the Italian Screen author Eugenio Ercolani, and Mondo Digital’s Nathaniel Thompson where they discuss not only the film itself in great detail, but Fulci’s entire career as well. Howarth proclaims THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS to be Fulci’s “most polished piece of work from the time”, while Ercolani praises the “visual panache” of Celeste’s work on the film. They go on to discuss how the film “plays into a lot of thematic elements and personal obsessions” such as “fate, time, and death” and how it fits alongside some of his other work such as THE BEYOND, which also deals heavily with “temporal” and “location displacement.” Throughout the track, the three men frequently talk about Fulci’s importance as a “provocateur” throughout his career, how he was first and foremost a comedy director, his fearless ability to add erotic elements into his films, and how he was a “mass of contradictions.” Lastly, they touch on Vince Tempera’s “untapped talent” as a solo composer, the late assistant director Michele De Angelis and his impact on home video, Fulci’s relationship with Dario Argento, and their brief working period during the pre-production stages of WAX MASK (1997) before he passed away. It goes without saying that the three men work very well together, and deliver a seemingly endless source of information about the film, Fulci’s lengthy career, and so much more; it easily ranks as one of the best commentaries of recent memory.
In Lighting the House of Time (25m45s), Nino Celeste is interviewed wherein he talks about his start in sword-and-sandal films with DP Giulio Albonico, his assertion that “trash-films” saved Italian cinema because there is no “intellectual commitment” to enjoy the films, his idols within the industry, and his relationship with Fulci (“We tuned-in rather soon.”), and how the director was “monstrous when it came time to dealing with actors.” In Time and Music (28m26s), composer Vince Tempera talks about his “prolific partnership” with Franco Bixio and Fabio Frizzi, and how they began to venture away from “symphonic aspects” of film music. He also discusses the fast turnaround of said films, and the popularity of his score for Lucio Fulci’s THE PSYCHIC (1977). The aforementioned Michele De Angelis talks about his time working with Fulci in Working with a Master (23m56s) beginning on the “Lucio Fulci presents” series of films, his first meeting with the director (“He was looking weirdly at me!”) and the similar interests they had such as art, movies, and football. That is, until he got on set where Fulci “was screaming at me all the time!” He also discusses the downfall of the Italian film industry and the shuttering of the “2nd and 3rd grade moviehouses,” and the current legacy about Fulci. In Time with Fulci (19m18s), set technician Elio Terribili talks about the business during the early ’80s, the hierarchy on set, and of course, his time working with Fulci who was frequently “gruff and unkempt,” but despite his reputation, he worked with him peacefully. Outside of the bonus trailers, all of the extras from Shriek Show’s DVD are also included.
Based upon a story by Fulci, THE SWEET HOUSE OF HORRORS (1989) takes its cue from some of his earlier films such as THE HOUSE BY THE CEMETERY (1981), and to a lesser extent MANHATTAN BABY (1982), both of which also placed children in key roles. After returning home from a late-night dinner, a couple (Lubka Cibulova and Pascal Persiano) is startled to find a masked intruder in their house. As they try to fend off their attacker, he gets the upper hand and violently bashes the husband’s head against a wall, and then pummels the wife’s face into a bloody mess. Their orphaned children, Mark (Giuliano Gensini) and Sarah (Ilary Blasi), are then put in the care of their Aunt Marcia (Cinzia Monreale) and Uncle Carlo (Jean-Christophe Brétignière), and promptly move back into the house from the opening where the kids begin to communicate with their ghostly parents…
Virtually every scene in THE SWEET HOUSE OF HORRORS unfolds within the suffocating corridors, bedrooms or darkened attics of the title edifice that helps generate some suspense thanks to Nino Celeste’s good-looking camerawork, which is rendered even more eloquent by Vince Tempera’s rather pensive score. In fact, during its rather slow build-up, Fulci tries to pass the film off as an honest-to-goodness haunted house film, but the hoary plot devices (i.e., disembodied candle flames representing spirits) are stretched to infinity by interminable ‘cute’ kids, with horror elements serving only as a catalyst for the sentimental plot, which is to reunite the murdered parents with their grieving bambini. Even less appealing is the film’s often exceedingly awful English dubbing, which perhaps makes the acting appear worse than it is; the kids suffer the worst and sound like some bored moonlighting cartoon characters. However, in keeping with some of Fulci’s usual themes of the time such as loss, bereavement, and the mysteries of the afterlife, THE SWEET HOUSE OF HORRORS definitely has that uniquely personal touch of late-era Fulci, which some viewers will undoubtedly appreciate, and for all of the film’s issues, it’s still a lot easier to swallow than Fulci’s own SODOMA’S GHOSTS (1988).
Like Fulci’s above-discussed companion film, THE SWEET HOUSE OF HORRORS (1989) was also released on Japanese VHS videocassette, this time through Tokuma Japan Entertainment in what was a solid widescreen edition in English with Japanese subtitles. In 2002, Shriek Show also released the film on DVD, which was a very nice, and much-needed upgrade. Extras included a few brief interviews segments with co-screenwriter Gigliola Battaglini (3m05s), and actors Jean-Christophe Brétignière (3m48s) Pascal Persiano (3m45s) and Lino Salemme (10m55s), in which they discuss their time working with Fulci, the “very stormy relationship” some of them endured, the locations, the make-up effects, and their thoughts on the film itself.
Cauldron’s new 2K restoration taken from the OCN handily improves over all previous releases with greater detail and more noticeable depth, which is again impressive given the film’s inherently soft look. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 audio tracks are included in both English and Italian (the latter with English subtitles), and once again sound clean and consistent, and for anyone irritated by the film’s sub-par English dubbing, the Italian track adds a measure of refinement to the entire production. Ercolani and Howarth return for another audio commentary, and given the film’s rather divisive stature among fans of Fulci’s work, this is a terrific listen, which goes a long way to develop a greater appreciation for the film. They go on to discuss this “bittersweet movie” and its main themes of “loss and abandonment” and how it’s lavish by comparison to Fulci’s other titles from this point in his career, and how part of the film’s “poetic quality” is also due to Nino Celeste’s photography, which helps “bring out the best of the meagre production design.” Eugenio also goes on to talk extensively about the history of Reteitalia, a “monster company”, whose vast amount of productions may be the reason why these TV movies “fell through the cracks.” Of course, they discuss many of the film’s actors including the surprise appearance of Vernon Dobtcheff, future TV presenter and showgirl Ilary Blasi, and familiar Italian character actor Franco Diogene, whose appeared in everything from Alan Parker’s MIDNIGHT EXPRESS (1978), Andrea Bianchi’s STRIP NUDE FOR YOUR KILLER (1975), and Alfonso Brescia’s THE NEW GODFATHERS (1979), to name but a few. As they finally point out, much of Fulci’s obsessions, both physical and emotional were “crystalized during this point in his career”, which definitely come out in the film. Loaded with tons of facts and keen observations, this is another highly rewarding listen, which should help viewers gain a better perspective of this misunderstood film. Myself included.
All of the extras for Shriek Show’s disc have been included on Cauldron’s disc, but several new extras have been commissioned as well, which include a trio of featurettes courtesy of Eugenio Ercolani beginning with Fulci House of Horrors (16m42s), an on-camera interview with production designer Massimo Antonello Geleng who talks about Fulci’s “rough and grouchy” demeanor, but at the same time, praises the man’s work. He also goes on record about BEATRICE CENCI (1969), which is his favourite Fulci film. In Sweet Muse of Horror (28m55s), actor Cinzia Monreale sits down for a lengthy interview wherein she reflects on her many first roles and working alongside popular comedian actors such as Carlo Giuffrè and Renzo Montagnani, how she met Fulci through the suggestion of writer/director Steno (a.k.a. Stefano Vanzina), the preparation she undertook for her role in THE BEYOND, which she considers her “professional highpoint” and the professionalism of the child actors in said film. Finally, editor Alberto Moriani sits down for a chat in Editing for the Masters (18m05s), who fondly reminiscences working for producers Luciano Martino and Mino Loy, his large body of work cutting films in a wide variety of genres, his on and off relationship with Fulci, and his time on Fulci’s troubled production ZOMBI 3 (1988). Other extras include an archival interview with Monreale (6m48s), and a fascinating reel of auditions (71m25s), which includes a number of familiar faces such as Virginia Bryant, Lino Salemme, and Saverio Vallone.
Highly reminiscent of Umberto Lenzi’s own GHOSTHOUSE (1988) from a year earlier, THE HOUSE OF WITCHCRAFT (1989) is another engrossing and consistently entertaining horror picture enriched with many interesting touches. Opening on a lively note, Luke (Andy J. Forest) is tormented by a recurring nightmare, which involves an isolated villa, an old witch (Maria Cumani Quasimodo), and his severed head boiling in a huge cauldron. Elsa (Susanna Martinkova), his therapist and sister-in-law (!), reasons he is simply exhausted and overworked, but she also probes into his marriage to Martha (Sonia Petrovna) who is “obsessed with occult sciences.” In the hopes of saving their fragmented marriage, Martha rents an old residential home in the Italian countryside, which turns out to be the very same house from his nightmares…
Given the film’s cost-conscious means, THE HOUSE OF WITCHCRAFT is competently executed across the boards and possesses several rather striking moments not usually seen in such low-budget affairs. With its cheap-but-endearing effects work (including an appropriately gruesome, EC Comics-styled cackling witch) and haunted house setting, Lenzi handles the story with complete confidence, heightening the ominous mood that pervades the entirety of the film, which also includes a highly-stylized sequence involving a serene snowfall inside the house. Further adding to Luke’s disorientation, Paul Muller appears as Mr. Mason, the blind owner of the house, and provides possible ties between Luke’s nightmares and the inexorable forces at work behind the normal façade of this holiday getaway (“This house goes on forever!”). But with the arrival of Mr. Mason’s daughter Sharon (Marina Giuliana Cavalli), things become even more complicated as the two of them dig ever deeper into a confounding tangle of dead bodies, otherworldly manifestations, madness, and a neat twist revelation.
Never released on home video in the U.S., THE HOUSE OF WITCHCRAFT was difficult to track down, but it was eventually released on U.K. DVD thanks to Vipco (or Video Instant Picture Company) as part of their Screamtime Collection in 2003, and later re-released in 2009 via Beyond Terror. As with the other films in this set, this new 2K restoration taken from the OCN is another huge improvement, which does wonders with the film’s previously unseen colour palette and Giancarlo Ferrando’s notable camerawork, rendering it quite literally picture perfect. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 audio tracks are once again included in both English and Italian (the latter with English subtitles), and sound clean and free of any issues with Claudio Simonetti’s (credited herein as Claude King) electronic score adding plenty of vitality to the film. As for extras, Thompson, Ercolani and Howarth (who also authored Make Them Die Slowly: The Kinetic Cinema of Umberto Lenzi) return yet again for another very welcome and comprehensive audio commentary where they discuss everything from the film’s location (the film was shot in Tuscany at the villa of Daria Nicolodi’s uncle), the chronology of this series and the two films from director Marcello Avallone which were eventually nixed by the producers (for the record, they were going to be “The House of the Deformed Dwarf” and “The House of the Doll with Growing Hair”), more about Reteitalia and “how it shaped the landscape both in television and cinema in the ’80s, the film’s “strange fairy tale quality” and how it is a “supernatural slasher film at heart”, the film’s nihilism, Lenzi’s “highly-competitive streak”, which didn’t endear him to many people in the industry, and most of the actors who appear in the film including a nice cameo from frequent Lenzi character actor Tom Felleghy. As usual, this is another excellent, well-prepared commentary, which should not be missed!
In Artisan of Mayhem (19m26s), Elio Terribili returns for another on-camera interview, in which he talks about the ins and outs of being an effects artist, and the preparations and planning on set with a particular focus on cinematic weaponry. He also speaks affectionately about his many idols in the business such Riccardo Petruzzi, Franco Fantasia, and Franco Ukmar, who were a big influence on his career and the “simplicity of special effects on earlier films.” Nino Celeste also returns for another interview in The House of Professionals(18m35s), which covers some of the same material from the earlier interview, but he also goes on to praise the many “second-rate” directors he worked with over the years, whom he regards as “incredible professionals.” And he also has more funny anecdotes regarding Fulci and his Jekyll and Hyde-like personality.
Rounding out this box set is Umberto Lenzi’s THE HOUSE OF LOST SOULS (1989), which once again takes its cue from GHOSTHOUSE, and those who are even slightly interested by the trashier horror movies of the late ’80s will find plenty to enjoy here. Driving through the Lombardia region of northern Italy, a group of geology students returning from a dig are suddenly sidetracked when the road is blocked by a landslide. Taking refuge at a nearby – and seemingly abandoned – motel, strange occurrences begin to besiege our unwelcome guests including several malevolent spirits…
Despite many implausible moments and more than a few gaping plot holes, THE HOUSE OF LOST SOULS is professionally constructed and still scores as a very entertaining late-entry Italo horror film. Although Lenzi himself proclaimed it “downright crap” in interviews, he seems to be enjoying himself nonetheless. In one scene, the film’s token child actor (Costantino Meloni) is gorily decapitated via a possessed washing machine (!), and in a less audacious, but no less enjoyable segment, one of the geologists has his head sawed off via a ghostly chainsaw after getting his leg caught in a conveniently placed beartrap. Defying all logic, just like the far-fetched and far-stretched plot, the film even jumbles together elements from Stanley Kubrick’s THE SHINING (1980) and Tobe Hooper’s POLTERGEIST (1982) for added measure in this reshuffled mishmash of enjoyable horror tropes, which even includes several re-purposed music cues from Claudio Simonetti’s work on Lamberto Bava’s DEMONS (1986) and Dario Argento’s OPERA (1987).
As with THE HOUSE OF WITCHCRAFT, this follow-up film was also released on U.K. DVD thanks Vipco, which was tolerable enough, but Cauldron’s new Blu-ray (again featuring a new 2K restoration taken from the film’s OCN) easily outdoes any previous editions with an altogether sharper and balanced picture, and while some images still present an inherent softness, this is a huge improvement in every way. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 audio tracks are once again included in both English and Italian (the latter with English subtitles), and sound fine without any discernible issues, which is put to the test during the film’s lively finale. In a welcome surprise, Cauldron offers the choice of two audio commentaries beginning with author and film historian Samm Deighan wherein she focuses primarily on Umberto Lenzi’s lengthy, genre-hopping career who she believes “deserves more of a critical reappraisal” and her enthusiasm for Lenzi as he revisits and re-examines some of these “beloved genre tropes” in a film that is “divorced from reality as to feel surreal at times.” She goes on to talk about the confusing nature of the entire LA CASA films in Italy, the core cast and their many other films, and some of similarities and/or influences to Stuart Rosenberg’s THE AMITYVILLE HORROR (1979). A solid listen that is up to her usual high standard. In the second audio commentary, film historians Adrian Smith and Rod Barnett (of Naschycast) have their take on the film with a particular focus on its history and Lenzi himself who “went where the winds guided him” as far as genres were concerned, even if, he was best known for his notorious gore films. They go on to discuss the film’s dreary location and its fascinating history, which Lenzi should have better utilized for a far more interesting and effective story, all of the actors and their “fruitful careers” outside of working in films (including familiar character actor Yamaouchi Harahiko who appeared in tons of Italian genre product with a specific preference for post-apocalyptic actioners such as Aristide Massaccesi’s 2020 TEXAS GLADIATORS [1983]), the various re-purposed music cues, Lenzi’s anarchist attitude, which “lurks beneath the surface of his films, and some interesting parallels to Norman J. Warren’s BLOODY NEW YEAR (1987). This is another highly informative listen full of wonderful historical tidbits, cinema anecdotes, and various other bits of minutia related to the film. Great stuff!
Special effects technician Elio Terribili returns for a third interview in Working with Umberto (18m37s), which includes some overlap from the aforementioned Time with Fulciinterview, but also includes his take of working on film sets in the past compared to the current modes of production, and how directors had to be much more “vigilant.” He also notes Lenzi’s generally “easy going and affable” attitude, but then relates a fairly hostile altercation on the set of said film in regards to the absurdity of the possessed washing machine. In House of Rock (14m21s), ex-Goblin maestro Claudio Simonetti sits down for a brief but informative chat about his time with Goblin and the “difficult time of the Seventies”, his solo career beginning in 1978 as a “disco and dance composer”, and how some directors are completely hands off in regards to the scoring of their films, such as Lenzi, whom he never met. Lastly, in Eugenio Ercolani’s Il cinema kriminal di Umberto Lenzi (52m13s), Umberto Lenzi sits down for an exhaustive interview wherein he discusses every facet of his career from sword-and-sandal films, war films, Italocrime, and everything else in between, which turns out to be a very fitting conclusion to this disc.
Sparing no expense, this exhaustive box set also includes two previously unreleased CD soundtracks for THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS and THE SWEET HOUSE OF HORRORS(featuring artwork by Alexandros Pyromallis), and foldout posters for each film from artists Matthew Therrien and Eric Lee, all of which is packaged in a beautifully designed rigid outer box. Oft-neglected and lesser-appreciated, these small-scale Italo horror pictures finally get the respect they deserve thanks to Cauldron Films’ highly-welcome Blu-ray collection, which of course comes highly recommended!
Order it from Cauldron Films or DiabolikDVD.
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