BURIAL GROUND - 4K UHD/BD REVIEW

Produced in the wake of George A. Romero’s worldwide smash hit, DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978) and Lucio Fulci’s equally popular Italian cash-in ZOMBIE (1979) – which were promoted in Italy as ZOMBI and ZOMBI 2, respectively – Andrea Bianchi’s BURIAL GROUND (1980) was just one of many zombie pictures trying to capitalize on the sudden surge of all things zombie. Other films, such as Bruno Mattei’s NIGHT OF THE ZOMBIES (a.k.a. HELL OF THE LIVING DEAD, 1980) – which even had the audacity to pilfer Goblin’s memorable DAWN score – Umberto Lenzi’s CITY OF THE WALKING DEAD (a.k.a. NIGHTMARE CITY, 1980) and Marino Girolami’s unforgettable cannibal / zombie mash-up DOCTOR BUTCHER M.D. (a.k.a. ZOMBIE HOLOCAUST, 1980) soon followed and, as enjoyable as they all are, nothing can match the sheer gusto and sleazy vibe of Bianchi’s low-budget zombie opus. 

The set-up – such that it is – is pure porno trash: a group of weekend vacationers gather together at a large villa, but unbeknownst to them, the resident Professor (Renato Barbieri) has discovered a secret about the ancient Etruscans (“It’s true! It must be! IT MUST BE!!!’), and for reasons unclear, they begin to emerge from the centuries-old graves to munch on the unsuspecting guests. 

 

Crass and undeniably silly, Bianchi’s film does not indulge in any sociopolitical messaging and simply exists for one purpose only: to show people getting slaughtered and eaten by crusty-faced zombies, and on that level, it succeeds brilliantly. Shot at the Villa Parisi, a big foreboding castle located just north of Rome in Frascati, this was a popular location for many film crews, which producer Gabriele Crisanti utilized to full effect while helming a series of now infamous low-budget sleaze shockers, including Bianchi’s MALABIMBA (1979), Mario Landi’s PATRICK STILL LIVES (1980), and Mario Bianchi’s MALABIMBA follow-up SATAN’S BABY DOLL (1982). Imposing and bleak, this once-prominent stately home looks about as decayed as the zombies are, which definitely adds to the sinister atmosphere, and Bianchi doesn’t hesitate for a second to take full advantage of it either. Delving into heaping piles of steaming viscera, these shuffling, maggot-infested zombies almost seem to be part of the villa’s crumbling façade, and prove that death is inescapable for our luckless guests. Adding to the generally weird and morbid tone is Berto Pisano’s (here credited as Burt Rexon) and Elsio Mancuso’s pilfered score (parts of which were originally used in Romain Gary’s KILL! [1971]), which perfectly encapsulates the delirious nature of this impoverished production as it alternates between breezy jazz cues and some truly bizarre, discursive, but energetic synth work; a CD release would be most welcome.

 

Populated by an interesting cast of Italian B-movie veterans, which includes softcore starlets Karin Well and Antonietta Antinori, Simone Mattioli (Franca Stoppi’s husband and co-star in Bruno Mattei’s THE OTHER HELL [1980]), Gianluigi Chrizzi, Roberto Caporali, Maria Angela Giordano as the hysteric, but resourceful Evelyn (dubbed on English prints by the always wonderful Carolyn De Fonseca), and of course the insanely creepy-looking Peter Bark as Evelyn’s son Michael. Scripted by the incredibly prolific Piero Regnoli, who is responsible for well over one-hundred writing credits (including Lenzi’s aforementioned CITY OF THE WALKING DEAD and Bianchi’s MALABIMBA), his work herein doesn’t bother to even try and attempt to develop anything of any real substance, most of the cast isn’t given much to do except battle zombies and sputter an inordinate amount of preposterous dialogue (“You look just like a little whore, but I like that in a girl!”), which most hardcore fans of the film can readily quote. However, a typically perverse subplot interspersed among the zombie mayhem involves Evelyn’s son Michael and his rather questionable ‘feelings’ towards his Mother, which culminates in one of the film’s more audacious and unforgettable moments of any Italian horror picture.

 

Long available on home video since the VHS rental days, BURIAL GROUND first appeared on video store shelves in the U.S. and Canada in 1986 thanks to Vestron Video’s easily accessible VHS videocassette, and although it was uncut (beware of heavily-cut versions in Canada!), the overly dark transfer left much to the imagination during key scenes of violence. Around the same time, a very nice (and much brighter) widescreen VHS tape emanated out of Japan via TCC Home Video, which was pretty much the gold standard at that time. Although available on European DVD during the format’s early days, BURIAL GROUND made its official debut on U.S. DVD in 2002 courtesy of Media Blasters’ sub-label Shriek Show, which presented a decent, but somewhat drab-looking 16x9 transfer, which, like the Japanese tape, also included the film’s original export title THE NIGHTS OF TERROR. Extras included interviews with Maria Angela Giordano and the not very-enthusiastic Gabriele Crisanti (11m00s), a still and poster gallery (2m57s), the film’s original English-language export trailer (3m28s), and a 4-page liner notes booklet with writing from AV Maniacs’ Charles Avinger and European Trash Cinema’s Craig Ledbetter. In 2011, Shriek Show revisited the film on Blu-ray, which was definitely a step-up in picture quality, if certainly not what everyone was hoping for, but – in an even more frustrating turn of events – this BD contained a slightly shorter version of the film, trimming the ends of reels or certain shots altogether (excisions totaling some 1m45s), and even though the gore was left intact, it’s a fairly significant amount of footage, to be sure. Retaining all the extras from the DVD, the BD also contained a number of previously unseen deleted scenes (albeit presented with no sound, 9m30s), which were definitely a nice bonus, and sweetened the package just a little. In 2013, German label Illusions Unlimited had their go at the film - complete with packaging housed in one of those slick mediabooks – but it turned out to be a port of the SS Blu, containing the same extras, minus the deleted scenes. 

 

In 2016, as part of their long-running ‘Italian Collection’, British label 88 Films issued their own Region B disc, which turned out to be the most pleasing edition to date. Remastered from the original 16mm camera negative, colours were rich and robust, and 88 Films’ new transfer possessed a healthy amount of natural grain and excellent detail throughout; plus, it finally reinstated all those missing trims from the SS disc. Extras included an audio commentary with former Giallo Pages editor John Martin and Calum Waddell, which of course, focuses on the film’s bowdlerized release in the U.K., VHS collecting during the Video Nasty era, an overview of “journeyman” director Bianchi, the surge of Italian zombie films that emerged out of Italy at that point in time, and their general lack of enthusiasm for the film itself. Other extras included What the F***? The Films of Andrea Bianchi (26m40s), wherein author Mikel Coven takes a look at Bianchi’s interesting career, the aforementioned deleted scenes, the film’s trailer, and as an added bonus, 88 Films have also provided an alternate version sourced from a 35mm ‘Grindhouse’ U.S. print, which runs a tad shorter (84m21s) due to the abbreviated BURIAL GROUND credit sequence. Reversible packaging and a nicely-illustrated booklet with liner notes from Waddell round-out the extras. Both English and Italian DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono tracks are included on the restored version with English subtitles provided for the Italian audio track.

 

Later that same year, Severin Films released their own separate BD (the first 3000 copies included a slipcover with Wes Benscoter cover art) and DVD releases. As good as the 88 Films BD was, Severin’s disc looked even better, which appeared slightly darker, but with more pronounced, authentic colours and nicely textured grain, which looked especially good during all the film’s gory close-ups of rotted flesh. The excellent disc also came loaded with several fascinating new extra features beginning with Villa Parisi – Legacy of Terror (15m47s), in which film critic Fabio Melelli takes the viewer on a detailed tour of the famous location used in a number of classic (and some not-so classic) Italian films. In Peter Still Lives (7m35s), actor Peter Bark is part of a short, but delightful Q&A at a film festival, while actor Simone Mattioli doesn’t to seem to recall a whole lot about the film in Just for the Money (8m57s), but he does remember having quite a bit of fun on set. In The Smell of Death (9m20s), the aforementioned interviews with Giordano and Crisanti have been properly re-edited together for a much smoother and tighter viewing experience, and even though it’s not listed on the packaging, the deleted scenes have also been included, while the film’s now familiar English export theatrical trailer finishes things off.

 

In 2023, 88 Films debuted this scrappy Italian trash classic as a 2-disc UHD / BD combo, which was scanned in 4K (!) from the “best surviving element (35mm blow-up interpositive)” and looks even better than their previous HD remaster with a more pronounced colour scheme and sharper detail. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 tracks also sound crisp and clear, and once again English subtitles are included for the Italian audio track. The aforementioned John Martin and Calum Waddell audio commentary is carried over, but 88 Films also commissioned a new audio commentary from Mondo Digital’s Nathaniel Thompson, and authors Troy Howarth and Eugenio Ercolani, which is far more in depth and appreciative of the film even as they venture into many different – and pleasing – tangents about Italian horror in general and their love for this singular Italian horror film. Some of the many details they discuss include Bianchi’s wide-ranging career and some their favourites films including his violent mafia actioner CRY OF A PROSTITUTE (1974) and the wonderfully sleazy STRIP NUDE FOR YOUR KILLER (1975), but all agree that BURIAL GROUND is his “biggest accomplishment”, but they also admit that some of this should be rightly attributed to producer Crisanti who Ercolani regards as “the unsung hero of this film” and a “pivotal figure” of late ’70s Italian sleaze. Of course, they also discuss the film’s location at length, which was regarded as the “villa of Z-movies”, Peter Bark’s brief career and his juicy role herein, and how he became an “object of mystery” who was eventually found working in a fetish nightclub “being brought around in a collar and leash!” Further discussions include the “campy vibe” of the English dub track and the many familiar voice talents involved, the inherently sleazy atmosphere of the entire production, the film’s quirky score and the film’s talented composer Berto Pisano, numerous other Italian zombie films of the time and this film’s unique place within the genre, it’s “nihilistic” nature, it’s bizarre incestuous subplot and how producers were taking advantage of the “loosening of censorship”, the overall “nightmarish quality” and “showstopper” finale, and just how much fun Bianchi was having with the material. Overall, this is another intelligent and highly enjoyable audio commentary from this always knowledgeable trio, who have quite a bit of fun here, adding plenty of value to this already entertaining film. 

 

On the Blu-ray, other extras include Return to the Burial Ground (13m51s) from Eugenio Ercolani wherein Peter Bark (a.k.a. Pietro Barzocchini) divulges all sorts of cool anecdotes about the film's shoot, with Ercolani giving the viewer even more shots of this ornate villa as it stands today, which is real treat for fans of the film or Italian horror in general. In The Borders of the Extreme (22m44s), Ercolani discusses the film at length putting it into perspective within the ever-changing world of Italian cinema of the ’70s and ’80s, while Pierpaolo De Sanctis discusses Berto Pisano’s diversive and rather curious career in Zombies in Melodies (27n58s). 88 Films have also included the previously mentioned What the F***? The Films of Andrea Bianchi, the deleted scenes, the film’s trailer and the alternate ‘Grindhouse’ U.S. print. Slickly-packaged, the limited edition set also includes a slipcover with art by Devon Whitehead, a two-sided fold-out poster, and a liner notes booklet with writing on the film by Martin Beine and Daniel Burnett. 

 

Earlier this year, Severin Films released their own UHD, which utilizes the same 4K restoration and looks superb; North American fans should find plenty to appreciate. Naturally, both English and Italian audio options are once again included with the latter featuring English subtitles. As with the 88 Films disc, both audio commentaries are also included, and the film’s trailer finish off the extras on the UHD, whereas the BD includes all of the extras featured on Severin’s previous disc as well as Ercolani’s Return to the Burial Ground featurette. This 2-disc set also includes a beautiful slipcover featuring original art from the film, and they even offer The Death Smells Bundle, which also includes a newly-commissioned T-shirt from Pallbearer Press and one helluva pillowcase! 

 

As usual, Severin’s UHD upgrade of this no frills, primo gut-cruncher is another must have, but no matter which edition you may choose, it’s great to see Bianchi’s picture endure after all these years, emerging as one of the great all-time Italian trash classics. 

MALABIMBA - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Not content with making yet another nominal quickie cash-in on William Friedkin’s international smash-hit THE EXORCIST (1973), Andrea Bianchi’s wonderfully tacky Italo Gothic MALABIMBA  (1979) is a film like no other. Whilst it does pinch the main plot-points of Friedkin’s landmark spiritual possession film, MALABIMBA’s heavy doses of sex, lurid melodrama and its almost gleeful proclivity to strain the boundaries of good taste definitely do keep you watching, no matter how ultimately derivative it all really is. In what turns out to be a rare, magnanimous bit of sacrilegious determination, Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray / DVD combo not only features the rarely-seen, uncut version of the film, but a number of sinfully pleasing extras to boot. 

In the hopes of contacting his recently-deceased wife Daniela, Andrea Caroli (Enzo Fisichella) and his extended family gather together for a séance, but with the help of a medium (Elisa Mainardi), they inadvertently summon the malevolent—and sexually-charged—spirit of Lucrezia, the late (quote) “black sheep of the Caroli family”. When this horned-up (quote) “evil presence” attempts to overcome Sister Sofia (Maria Angela Giordano), the resident caregiver of Andrea’s invalid brother Adolfo (Giuseppe Marrocu), the quick-witted nun successfully fends it off when she forms a makeshift crucifix as a shadow on a wall… albeit not until after it has forced her to masturbate furiously, however (this is purely gratuitous Italo sexploitation sinema, after all!). Having been temporarily repelled, Lucrezia’s spiteful spirit then shortly returns to possess Andrea’s innocent—and thus ideally sexually corruptible—adolescent daughter Bimba (Katell Laennec), whose sudden uncontrollable lascivious urges cause all sorts of turmoil among the surviving members of the Caroli line, complicated still further by their various long-standing interfamilial rivalries and petty squabbles…

Written by the ever-prolific Piero Regnoli, who had directed one of the earliest fetishistic sexy vampire films, THE PLAYGIRLS AND THE VAMPIRE (1960),  MALABIMBA retains much of its Gothic atmosphere thanks to the familiar Balsorano location, but much of the ‘horror’ is played against the internal strife of the ever-bickering Caroli family; and of course, the lengthy sex scenes with most of the principal cast, which even feature that most taboo of subjects: incest. This is an element which Regnoli habitually explored in many of his self-penned efforts, including Tiziano Longo’s LO STALLONE (1975), and then later—most infamously—in Andrea Bianchi’s zombie splatter film BURIAL GROUND (1980). Katell Laennec (whose French name is incidentally derived from the word ‘pure’) delivers a suitably ill-mannered performance as the possessed teen, who not only utters the expected expletives, but is seen either spying-on or trying to sleep with anyone and everyone, up to and including both her own father and her, uh, ‘still-more-than-capable’ handicapped Uncle Adolfo (“They say you’re like a statue, but I’ll get you moving!”). Adding to this (quote) “melodramatic crisis”, Patrizia Webley is also well-cast as Nais, the straight-talking (quote) “immoral whore” whose marriage to Adolfo causes great concern (“Adolfo was always searching for third-rate harlots!”) for the family’s patrimony, even as she sleeps-around with both Andrea and the family’s lawyer, Giorgio (Giancarlo Del Duca). The always-fantastic Maria Angela Giordano gives the film’s most measured, coolly-restrained performance as Sister Sofia, who is at constant odds with her own repressed sexual longings, and who—in another obvious crib from THE EXORCIST—ultimately sacrifices herself in order to save Ms. Laennec’s possessed character from eternal damnation.

Unlike Bianchi’s and producer Gabriele Crisanti’s follow-up film BURIAL GROUND (1980), which was made available in just about every market in the entire world, so it seemed, MALABIMBA was barely released outside of Italy, where it not only also garnered numerous VHS videocassette releases (incidentally, a graphic photocomic was included as an extra ‘pull-out’ with the once-popular Roman sex magazine Gin Fizz, which meant the film must have had some success in its native Italy), but the most complete version available at the time turned up on Star Video, a Swiss-based video label, which tailored its releases to the Italian-speaking region of Ticino; and it was these rough-hewn VHS tapes that served as the basis for many of the VHS (and later DVD) bootlegs, which circulated throughout the tape-trading circuit of the ’Nineties. In 2009, this sleazy favourite made its official DVD debut thanks to Severin Films, which of course included a far more, um… revealing and pleasing transfer. Although that disc did also include the standard X-rated version, Severin went the extra mile by also including the film’s deleted scenes (sourced from Star Video’s tape), with the handy added option of automatically incorporating them back into the movie, if the viewer so desired. Other extras included Malabimba Uncovered (16m55s), which featured interviews with Giordano and DP Franco Villa, who thoroughly discussed the film’s well-worn but effective locations and their decision to shoot it during this (quote) “transitional phase” of Italian cinema. Both of them also talked warmly about director Bianchi and their surprise about the inclusion of hardcore sequences in the film. However, Giordano also talks about her decision to do on-screen nudity, which led to a number of other Crisanti-produced films, such as the aforementioned BURIAL GROUND, Mario Landi’s skeevy two-fer GIALLO IN VENICE (1979) and PATRICK STILL LIVES (1980), as well as the present film’s unofficial remake of sorts, SATAN’S BABY DOLL (1983), which was directed by that ‘other’ Bianchi guy, Mario.  

Taken from the film’s (quote) “original 16mm camera negative”, VS’s newly-restored 2K transfer is quite attractive, despite the opening disclaimer that (quote) “the negative had suffered extensive handling damage and poor storage.” While the transfer does feature some scratches, occasional speckling and minor instances of debris, it’s far better than anything preceding it, even if it doesn’t meet VS’s impeccably high standards. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 features the film’s original Italian audio track, which for the most part also sounds clean and well-balanced, with Berto Pisano’s pinched score sounding quite robust; apparently, some of the film’s audio had to be taken from a lower-quality videotape, which has been integrated into the film with a minimum of interference.  

The major new extra herein is a brand new audio commentary with film and music writer Heather Drain, writer and film critic Samm Deighan and author, editor and critic Kat Ellinger who provide an easy-going, but fact-filled track wherein they discuss everything about both the film itself and the year in which it was made, which Ellinger says was the (quote) “year of bat-shit Italian cinema.” Although primarily regarded as a sex film, they discuss the film’s (quote) “lush Gothic tropes” and other similarly-themed possession films; the politically incorrect tone and the reluctance of some modern audiences to accept it. They also talk about many of Bianchi’s and Crisanti’s other films, as well as Piero Regnoli’s long career; the sloppily-interjected ‘inserts’, and of course the less-than-credible—and wholly unnecessary—remake. As with their earlier audio commentary on VS’s release of Andy Milligan’s FLESHPOT ON 42^nd STREET (1971), it’s another highly-recommended listen, which won’t disappoint either long-time fans of the film or keen newcomers. Both the Malabimba Uncovered featurette and the film’s lengthy theatrical trailer (4m08s) have been ported-over from Severin’s earlier DVD while a newly-produced photo gallery (1m23s) of revealing German lobby cards finish off the extras. As usual the disc comes with reversible artwork, but if you order directly from Vinegar Syndrome, the first 2000 copies also include a Limited Edition slipcover designed Earl Kessler Jr. 

Unlike its thematically similar prototype and heavily-influenced Gothic environment, MALABIMBA quickly—and very entertainingly—establishes its scabrous sex film intentions, which Vinegar Syndrome proudly and unashamedly delivers with their stellar new Blu-ray / DVD combo, bless ’em! 

CRY OF A PROSTITUTE - BLU-RAY REVIEW

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