While many online databases and books list both MALADONNA and MALOMBRA as 1984 productions, the copyright date on the latter is credited as 1983, so for the sake of continuity, we’ll look at that film first, even if the cover art for Raro Video’s Blu-ray mistakenly promotes MALADONNA as the title film.
One of the earliest Italian productions, shot around Lake Maggiore, had been Carmine Gallone’s MALOMBRA (1917), a gothic melodrama adapted from Antonio Fogazzaro’s 1881 novel of the same name, a story which had apparently lost none of its fascination over the years. In 1942, director Mario Soldati helmed another well-regarded variation of the novel, and in 1983, low-budget producer Pino Buricchi also decided to tackle the subject. A classic of Italian literature, here adapted by cheapie specialist sceneggiatore Piero Regnoli, this rendition pretty much abandons Fogazzaro’s narrative and accents highly-charged eroticism over any meaningful plot. Produced in the wake of Tinto Brass’ hugely-successful period-set erotic drama THE KEY (1983), MALOMBRA also pulled-in considerable profits on its home front thus ensuring Buricchi and Gaburro would continue to turn out more of the same.
Osvaldo Raininger (Maurice Poli), a wealthy land baron, lives in a vast isolated country estate where he grieves for his dead wife, Maria. Yet a mysterious woman (Paola Senatore), who is the spitting image of Maria, roams the darkened corridors before succumbing to her sexual yearnings. Soon thereafter, Osvaldo’s nephew Marco (Stefano Alessandrini) arrives at the castle with his university tutor Massimo (THE CHILDREN OF VIOLENT ROME’s Gino Milli) who gains the attentions of the villa’s housemaid (Scilla Jacu), while Marco happens to meet Lilli, a bubbly farmgirl (Gloria Brini), who spends a goodly portion of the running time either topless or completely nude in her quest to bed Marco; for one scene in a hayloft, she suggestively nibbles on a carrot while he watches. Later into the narrative, Marco catches a glimpse of Maria, his supposedly deceased aunt during one of her kinky nocturnal rituals and immediately falls under the spell of her irresistible allure, which exposes a number of dark secrets…
A throwback of sorts to the gothic chillers of the ’60s, a foreboding atmosphere is well established during the opening moments as Senatore’s character roams the shadowy, suffocating corridors of the family castle. Although primarily marketed as a sex film, MALOMBRA proceeds much along similar lines as any Italian gothic, which includes the usual dopplegänger, mistaken suspicions, possible supernatural manifestations, and an ancient patriarchy whose rather malevolent presence is well represented by Osvaldo’s morose countenance. Drawing heavily on themes of obsession and sexual repression, the film even contains a “secret room” where Senatore’s character routinely “casts a spell” on her male and female onlookers with her uninhibited display. Senatore is excellent as the flawed but humanized character who is nothing more than Osvaldo’s prized possession whereas one-time actors Scilla Jacu and Gloria Brini add further sex appeal. Brini in particular – who speaks with a cheery inflection (courtesy of Pat Starke on English prints) throughout - thinks nothing of using her body to entice and influence Marco, but also adds some much-needed joie de vivre missing from the rest of the picture. Slow-moving but involving, mostly because it is so cryptic in unfolding, MALOMBRA is also greatly aided by Pasquale Fanetti’s lush and intimate photography strengthening the voyeurism of the audience itself.
Despite its soundalike title and returning characters, MALADONNA (1984) is otherwise completely unrelated to the above film, which has Paola Senatore returning as Maria, this time as a rich and sexually bored wife of Osvaldo Raininger (Maurice Poli), a wealthy landowner of aristocratic lineage. After Maria and a group of decadent socialite friends - which also includes her lover Alessio (2020 TEXAS GLADIATOR’s Daniel Stephen) - have a drunken sex party, Raininger has had enough (“No one in this house knows the meaning of honor!”) and finds solace in the arms of Claudia (SS EXPERIMENT LOVE CAMP’s Paola Corazzi), a woman from a “loveless marriage,” who eventually exposes an elaborate scheme to try and sneakily obtain Raininger’s vast property…
In what turned out to be one of her very last roles before her career was tragically sidetracked by drugs and alcohol, Senatore commits herself sincerely as the insatiably adulterous Maria who believes she is “locked in a kind of jail.” Although much of Regnoli’s script attempts to offer psychological character studies of the eccentric protagonists, which also entails all the various factions ruthlessly vying for possession of Raininger’s land, the bulk of the picture is pure sexploitation, even as it tries – rather vainly – to delve into the lives of the upper classes and all their scheming, immoral behaviours, a tactic Regnoli explored with far greater success in Andrea Bianchi’s nightmarish contemporary gothic MALABIMBA (1979). Considering the less-than-exorbitant budget, Gaburro’s costumers and set dressers once again come up with some admirable period ambience whereas returning DP Pasquale Fanetti’s good-looking photography is rendered more eloquent still by Stelvio Cipriani’s synth-based score.
Although merely a side effect of Brass’ enormously successful THE KEY, Gaburro’s flirtation with period-piece erotica never secured official home video releases in North America. Distributed by Kino Lorber, Raro Video’s region free disc offers restorations provided by the film’s licensor Minerva Pictures, which vary between the two films. Featuring a solid, if unspectacular transfer, MALADONNA looks quite pleasing with stable colours and nice contrasts, which definitely enhances Fanetti’s rather polished cinematography. Unfortunately, MALOMBRA appears to be sourced from different elements and appears a tad softer and somewhat uneven, but it’s still miles better than any previous analog presentation. DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Italian mono is presented on both titles and sound fine, but the Italian track on MALOMBRA is frustratingly paired up with English dubtitles instead of properly translated subtitles whereas the English audio track was obviously taken from a very inferior source (VHS perhaps?), which sounds tinny, and at times, almost inaudible. A real shame.
Extras are limited, but Raro have secured another well-researched audio commentary from Wild, Wild Podcast’s Adrian Smith and Rod Barnett who have plenty to discuss about MALOMBRA including Fogazzaro’s novel and its importance in Italian culture, many of the book’s story elements, and their absence from the film. The director’s interesting career is also assessed together with his marriage to Erika Blanc, his many pseudonyms, and his foray into hardcore feature films. They also go over Pino Buricchi’s extensive career toiling away in the lower echelons of the Italian film industry, while also finding plenty of time to talk about Paola Senatore prolific career - who is probably best known to most fans for her role Umberto Lenzi’s EATEN ALIVE! (1980) where she’s literally eaten alive – and her troubles during the shoot where she was “almost always drunk or high,” her plunge into the world of hardcore films with Arduino Sacco’s NON STOP… SEMPRE BUIO IN SALA (1985), and her subsequent arrest on drug charges and implications of trafficking. This is a substantial and worthwhile listen, which provides knowledgeable context and plenty of history about these little-seen films. Order the Blu-ray from Kino Lorber or DiabolikDVD.
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