THE MUMMY'S REVENGE - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Late, great Castilian horror king Paul Naschy (a.k.a. Jacinto Molina) was at the very height of his popularity when he wrote and starred in Carlos Aured’s THE MUMMY’S REVENGE (1973), an atmospheric and grisly take on Karl Freund’s pivotal Universal horror classic, THE MUMMY (1932). Never one to shy away from a challenge, Naschy takes on the dual roles of Amen-Ho-Tep (in both his human and monster forms) and also plays Assad Bey, his cursed descendent, who, in the interests of attaining (quote) “power, riches and eternal life” resurrects the exceedingly cruel Amen-Ho-Tep. Although this film was once readily available on Betamax/VHS videocassette during the ’80s, Unicorn Video’s master was taken from a censored, heavily-cropped TV print. And now, thanks to Scorpion Releasing’s timely Blu-ray, Naschy’s lone mummy movie has risen mightily to stride the Earth once again.

Ruling with an iron hand alongside the equally-cruel Princess Amarna (Rina Ottolina), the tyrannical Amen-Ho-Tep’s (quote) “savage rule” is vividly displayed in the film’s opening sequence, set during Egypt’s 18^th Dynasty. Through the use of some solemn-but-clunky voiceover narration (at least in the English-dubbed version), we learn that the land was thrown into a (quote) “eternal nightmare of blood and horror”. However, Am-Sha (Fernando Sánchez Polack), the wily high priest of Amon-Ra, leads a plot to overthrow the despotic ruler, who is then mummified alive, to (quote) “wander in the world of the unknown forever.” This seemingly-endless length of time is efficiently rendered through the use of some simple time-lapse photography, a well-worn, but still effective technique, which segues nicely into the discovery of Amen-Ho-Tep’s tomb centuries later by archeologists Nathan Stern (Jack Taylor) and his wife Abigail (María Silva). Upon transporting their find to Sir Douglas Carter (Eduardo Calvo) at the Landsbury Foundation in London, the senior academic is elated at this (quote) “important archeological discovery”. On the downside, it also attracts the interest of the sinister Egyptian Assad Bey and his partner Sanofed (Helga Liné), who, for nefarious purposes, intend to raise Amen-Ho-Tep from the grave via the ritual sacrifice of (quote) “three young virgins”. Unfortunately, once the long-dormant mummy has arisen anew, Bey and Sanofed are then obliged to murder still another seven virgins more in order for the (quote) “dominion of the Pharaohs” to rise to full power again. But the mouldy mummy also has his eyes set on Sir Douglas’ nubile daughter, Helen (Ottolina again), who is—not unexpectedly, as per the hoary ol’ trope—a dead ringer for Amen-Ho-Tep’s long-dead beloved Amarna… 

As helmed by Carlos Aured, THE MUMMY’S REVENGE turned out to be the last film he made with Paul Naschy, capping a fruitful collaboration which had begun with HORROR RISES FROM THE TOMB (1973), another ‘vengeance-from-beyond-the-grave’ shocker that shares quite a few similarities with the current film under review. Unlike most of Naschy’s long list of filmic monsters, which were always approached with a certain empathy (best exemplified in Javier Aguirre’s COUNT DRACULA’S GREAT LOVE [1973], starring Naschy as the lonesome, lovelorn Count), Amen-Ho-Tep on the other hand is a 100% unadulterated murderous monster whose sole motivations are revenge and, ultimately, global domination (“The world will be ours!”). Sporting quite eye-catching makeup, Naschy’s mummy is also one of the most memorably gruesome creations to be found in the star’s entire monster canon, whose ruthless, violent nature is made all-the-more obvious when he viciously—and gorily!—squashes the heads of local virgins he believes are unacceptable for his use.  

While competently lensed across the boards and making the most of its humble origins, this is one of Aured’s best-looking films, which takes full advantage of its familiar London locations, and according to Troy Howarth’s excellent audio commentary, also utilized a number of leftover sets from Charlton Heston’s ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA (1972) as well; all of which are handsomely captured by Francisco Sánchez’s exquisite scope photography. The wonderful cast also includes a number of Naschy regulars, including the ever-reliable Jack Taylor and María Silva (who was last seen as Countess Elizabeth Báthory in Carlos Aured’s CURSE OF THE DEVIL [1973]), as well as the always-superb Helga Liné, who gives one of the film’s strongest performances. Strikingly beautiful newcomer Rina Ottolina also does a fine job as both Amarna and her reincarnation Helen, and she definitely gives the gorgeous Zita Johann (who played Helen in Universal’s original 1932 version of the oft-told tale) a run for her money as the stunning love interest (much like Johann’s, Ottolina’s own movie career also proved to be short-lived when she retired in the late-’70s). 

Although THE MUMMY’S REVENGE bypassed DVD altogether in North America, Scorpion Releasing’s BD now presents two versions of the film in their attractive edition, one of which includes a scene (missing from the Spanish HD master) involving a newlywed—soon to be newlydead!—couple who get violently offed by the mummy, which was reinserted from an inferior source. Although both versions of the film retain the original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, this (quote) “extended composite cut” also includes both DTS-HD MA mono audio tracks in both English and Spanish languages, with the benefit of properly-translated English subtitles for the latter. While it is nice to have both audio tracks available, it should be mentioned that the Spanish track has far-superior audio fidelity to the tinny—and exceedingly hissy—English audio track, which was probably overdubbed from an old VHS source. The (quote) “shorter version” only comes with English audio.

An audio commentary from Human Beasts: The Films of Paul Naschy (WK Books, 2018) author Troy Howarth is the disc’s sole significant extra, but as usual, it’s a very welcome one. He goes over plenty of details related to the production, including its now-almost-mythic ‘unclothed’ version, which hasn’t turned-up anywhere as yet; the English dubbing on many Spanish films from the era and how they were (quote) “rather difficult to stomach”; much of the film’s pilfered score from the CAM libraries; the obvious onscreen chemistry between Naschy and Liné (this was their final collaboration); Miguel Sesé’s impressive makeup F/X; Carlos Aured’s solid understanding of the (quote) “basic innerworkings” of the genre, and how most of his films with Naschy are (quote) “smoother and refined” compared to the work of Leon Klimovsky; and finally, some background about the film’s distribution woes. It’s most certainly an engaging listen, loaded with plenty of insight into this film and Naschy’s work in general. Excellent stuff, indeed! The film’s rarely-seen Avco Embassy trailer is also included (“A jarring shock every moment!”), as are trailers for José María Zabalza’s THE FURY OF THE WOLFMAN (1972, coming soon from Scorpion) and José Luis Madrid’s THE HANGING WOMAN (1973). In addition, the inner sleeve contains informative liner notes from Naschy expert Mirek Lipinski, who also provides some interesting background info on the mysterious Ms. Ottolina. 

Polished and technically assured, it’s great to have this once-difficult-to-see Naschy title finally available on Blu-ray, which can be ordered from Ronin Flix and DiabolikDVD, both of which include a limited slipcover.

INQUISITION BLU-RAY REVIEW

After starring in a string of highly popular, well-mounted horror pictures, Paul Naschy (real name: Jacinto Molina) eventually rose to the enviable director’s chair with INQUISITION (INQUISICIÓN, 1976), which, after years of cruddy bootlegs, has finally surfaced in a superb new Blu-ray thanks to those brilliant folks at Mondo Macabro.

Foregoing with the usual – but always welcome! – monster-mash mayhem Naschy became associated for, he instead here turned his attention to far-more-authentic, historically-documented horrors.  Naschy stars as Bernard de Fossey, an inquisitor / witch hunter who is summoned to a small town in 16^th Century France to try and abolish heresy, aided by his assistants Nicolas (Ricardo Merino) and Pierre (Tony Isbert). The townspeople cautiously welcome this trio on their (quote) “sacred mission”, even opening-up their houses to them.  At one such house, de Fossey notices Catherine (Daniela Giordano), a beautiful young woman who, according to local elders (quote) “pines for a young man” named Jean (José Luis Galiardo), but de Fossey is soon engaged in his “holy” work when Renover (Antonio Iranzo), a local – facially-disfigured – hired hand collectively accuses a group of young women of being witches.  Upon returning from Toulouse, Jean is fatally stabbed, resulting in Catherine and her sister Madeleine (Mónica Randall) seeking answers from Mabille (Tota Alba), a local medium, thus enabling Catherine to seek vengeance.  As Catherine becomes caught up in the dark arts (“Serve him faithfully, and he will please you!”), her suspicions begin to center around de Fossey, who is also becoming increasingly paranoid, not only about his jurisdictive rank, but his immoral fleshly feelings towards Catherine herself.  All this, as the ever-encroaching plague slowly engulfs the region…

Taking cues from both Michael Reeves’ WITCHFINDER GENERAL (1968) and Ken Russell’s THE DEVILS (1971), Paul Naschy’s directorial debut most certainly emphasizes plenty of horrific elements to please fans of his work, but at the same time, it’s compelling enough dramatically to merit a closer look.  Grounded in reality, much of the fantastical elements, such as the ‘Sabbat’ or black masses, ought rightly to be construed as drug-induced fantasies on the part of Catherine – who even imagines “flying” through the night sky – which are merely imaginary products of her corrupted, broken mind.  Well-rendered, many of these sequences are some of the film’s highlights, and in true monster-kid form, Naschy also doubles as both Satan and the Grim Reaper themselves.  Accustomed to essaying dual roles in many of his productions, Naschy adds considerable gravitas to his role as de Fossey, the morally-conflicted inquisitor, who, although performing his duty, continually questions himself and his faith’s ideology, which ultimately leads to his downfall, à la Oliver Reed as randy nun-fucking priest Father Urbain Grandier in Russell’s THE DEVILS.

According to Pete Tombs’ very well researched liner notes (available only in the ‘Limited Red Case Edition’), Naschy also collaborated with the (quote) “prestigious Basque anthropologist” and author of THE WORLD OF WITCHES (1961) Julio Caro Baroja, who also provided him with the necessary information in regards to the witch hunts in southern France, which adds a level of detail usually unseen in projects such as this. Thanks to Naschy’s research and control of the entire project, INQUISITION’s period detail is perfectly accomplished thanks to the extraordinary work of art director Gumersindo Andres and the expertly-composed cinematography of Miguel F. Mila, both aspects which add considerable production value to the proceedings.  Also, many of the torture devices seen used were also derived from Naschy’s meticulous research, and even though many of these scenes may provide an exploitation punch, they never come across as gratuitous and only add to the brutally horrific times of the period when such atrocious systemic abuses of the populace – often on only the flimsiest of hearsay evidence – were condoned by the very Church itself.

Never released theatrically in the U.S., INQUISITION first debuted on VHS videocassette in 1984 via that erstwhile prime Euro sleaze label Video City Productions, whose master print was fortunately uncut, but their fullscreen transfer left a lot to be desired.  It eventually debuted on DVD in Spain courtesy of VellaVision, but, like most Spanish DVDs, it only had Spanish-language audio.  Continuing to champion the works of Paul Naschy, this is Mondo Macabro’s third Naschy release following León Klimovsky’s DR. JEKYLL VERSUS THE WEREWOLF (1972) and Jacinto Molina’s sadistic PANIC BEATS (1983), and it’s easily one of their finest releases yet.  Similar to the Spanish DVD, MM’s Blu-ray presents the film in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio, but the 1080p resolution definitely adds considerable detail and clarity to the picture, better to appreciate Andres’ fastidious set design and period detail.  MM also provides both English – complete with clunky dubbing – and Spanish audio options in LPCM 2.0, the latter with optional English subtitles, which definitely bestow a higher pedigree on the film. 

Lots of extras are included in MM’s package, which begins with an audio commentary from film historians Rodney Barrett and Troy Guinn (from NaschyCast).  They discuss Naschy’s extensive diligent research prior to undertaking the project, as well as the handsome and exceedingly finely-detailed look of the film, and its abundant nudity – even for a Naschy film! – which surprised both of them as well.  In ‘Daniela’s Inquisition’ (24m24s), Sicilian-born actress Daniela Giordano talks about her early years getting into the business through a (quote) “big American agency” in Rome; her satisfaction and belief in Naschy’s film and her attempts to secure Italian distribution, which quickly dissipated.  In an archival on-camera interview (14m24s) which was originally used as the intro to the Spanish DVD, Naschy recalls his desire to make the film, and also relates various personal anecdotes about the production.  Originally aired on British television, ‘Blood and Sand’ (24m23s), was the eleventh instalment of Andy Starke’s and Pete Tombs’ Eurotika! series (1999), which this time focused on Spanish horror films and included interviews with José Ramòn Larraz, Eurociné’s Daniel Lesoeur, Amando de Ossorio, Orchidea de Santis, Jess Franco, Jorge Grau and, of course, Daniela Giordano and Paul Naschy, the stars of the present show.

As usual, MM also includes their ever-expanding trailer reel, and for those of us who were lucky enough to snag a copy of the extremely-limited ‘Red Case’ edition, MM provides some nifty reversible cover artwork (and the aforementioned 10-page liner notes booklet), while the retail version features new artwork from the talented Gilles Vranckx.  No matter which edition you choose, there’s no denying that MM continues to outdo themselves with this, their latest Blu-ray release, which sheds further light on one of Paul Naschy’s more neglected and lesser-appreciated efforts.  It totals another highly recommended, outstanding release!  Order it from DiabolikDVD or Amazon.

COUNT DRACULA'S GREAT LOVE - BLU-RAY REVIEW

As COUNT DRACULA’S GREAT LOVE opens, you know you’re in for something different, something special, as two men attempt to deliver a coffin to the Kargos Klinik, a dilapidated but beautifully eerie gothic setting in what is meant to be rural Transylvania.  Shortly, having been tempted by the possible riches which may be housed within their cargo, they are killed for their curiosity by some mysterious individual: one has his throat gorily torn apart while the other gets an axe buried in his forehead.  As the latter’s limp body tumbles down the nearby stairs, this sequence is repeatedly played behind the opening credits in what seems like a never-ending loop. Whether or not this repetitive image was used simply due to budgetary constraints, it certainly sets up the wholly unique nature of the entire production aptly enough. 

Directed by the always reliable Javier Aguirre, COUNT DRACULA’S GREAT LOVE is Naschy’s only vampire outing, which, in spite of his long and varied filmography, remains one of his standout efforts.  Readily available since the dawn of video from a variety of labels, usually under a multitude of titles, the transfer prints of most, if not all of them, came either incomplete, pan-and-scanned or were sourced from badly battered-and-tattered prints (typically heavily cut TV versions); which very much makes Vinegar Syndrome’s highly welcome Blu-ray / DVD combo both quite the revelation and definitive, putting to shame any and all versions which have gone before. 

While we’re still trying to comprehend and get out from under the film’s hallucinatory opening, the film begins proper. In the countryside surrounding the sanatorium, Imre (Vic Winner) is chaperoning four young ladies, Marlene (Ingrid Garbo), Senta (Rossana Yanni), Elke (Mirta Miller) and Karen (Haydee Politoff), as they travel through the Borgo Pass.  As their carriage passes the old Kargos sanatorium, Imre tells stories of a “killer prince” who used to run the place and assures them that “Count Dracula existed.”  Naturally, their carriage is sidetracked when it loses a wheel, and the resulting commotion causes the horses to get spooked, an unforeseen chain of events which consequently causes the death of their coachman.  As the storm approaches, the stranded wayfarers seek shelter at the seemingly abandoned sanatorium, where, much to their surprise, they are warmly greeted by Dr. Wendell Marlowe (Naschy).  Grateful for his hospitality, Imre is soon overcome by one of the “dead” delivery men from the opening (who has since become turned into a vampire), whereupon Dr. Marlowe eventually reveals his true identity, who, as – yes, you guessed it! – Dracula, not only wishes to reincarnate his dead sister Rodna, but also to attain the eternal love of a woman… if hopefully presumably one other than his own sister!

Predominantly associated with his incredibly popular Waldemar Daninsky character, Paul Naschy’s Dracula is yet another one of his agonized ‘monsters’ wrestling with his destiny, who, in the end, is merely pining to be loved (“The love of a woman changed the destiny of Dracula”). Even though he does have an underlying and quite sinister motive, Dr. Marlowe is always presented in a very sympathetically melancholic light as he roams the ever-decaying sanatorium he calls home.  On a few occasions, as he seeks the amorous attention of Karen, they philosophize about life and death (“The power of the unknown goes beyond death”) and the fact that he’s (quote) “never been in love.”  What could well have come across as overly sentimental, much of this admittedly lackluster dialogue – at least in the English-dubbed version - actually works in the film’s favour, which is especially evident when Dr. Marlowe is revealed to be Dracula, following which the film abruptly shifts gears and escalates to become one of the more daring and gruesome Dracula pictures of the time, which culminates with a surprising and unusually poetic conclusion.

Needless to say, this being a Spanish horror film from the ’70s, it’s high on atmosphere, boasting everything from slow-motion vampire attacks, an eerie surrounding countryside – nicely captured by DP Raúl Pérez Cubero – and some very strong set-pieces.  In one of the film’s more controversial scenes, Marlene and Elke – as voracious vampire brides – lick and claw at the bloodied breasts of their friend Senta; which is just one of the many scenes that raised more than one censor’s eyebrow.  Alongside some of these memorably eye-opening scenes, one of the film’s stronger assets, that adds immensely to the overall atmosphere, is Carmelo Bernaola’s rather minimalist and highly repetitive music, which effectively emphasizes both the sudden outbursts of gory horror – of which there are plenty – as well as underscoring the somewhat despondent, lonesome count’s empty existence with its jarring piano and quieter, organ-driven passages.

As per their normal high standards, Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray / DVD combo is a crisp, colourful transfer that is actually quite astonishing to behold.  Taken from an uncut 35mm inter-negative provided by its long-ago American theatrical distributor, International Amusement Corporation, VS has given the film a fresh 2K scan which retains the film’s original 1.85:1 aspect ratio.  Natural grain is well-preserved, while darker scenes have much more consistent black levels compared to earlier editions, which seemed washed-out and suffered from a compromised colour palette.  Regardless of the wonky dubbing on the English version – for instance, most of the supposedly Romanian locals are given perplexing southern American “hillbilly” accents (!!) that seem to have strayed in from one of Harry Novak’s sleazy ’70s hixploitation films – the audio registers clear and robust, making this version the best viewing choice by far.  And yet, as an added bonus, the VS Blu-ray also includes a Spanish audio track with optional English subtitles, which isn’t quite as strong, but makes for a nice inclusion just the same.  However, the most substantial extra is an audio commentary with Naschy and Aguirre, which was conducted in Spanish and accompanied by English subtitles.  They discuss the genesis of the project (even referring to it as “Love and Dracula”), as well as some of their influences, such as casting, the various difficulties they experienced with certain cast members, plus censorship issues and some of film’s rather challenging locations.  Naturally, it’s a solid listen, and a real must for any fan of Naschy’s work.  Other extras include an interview with actress Mirta Miller, who also talks about some of the difficulties of the shoot, such as the cold weather and her preference of Aguirre’s directorial style over that of León Klimovsky.  The once-difficult-to-find theatrical trailer and a generous still gallery are additional inclusions and, unlike most of their releases, VS has also included an 8-page booklet with thorough liner notes from Naschy expert Mirek Lipinski.  Keen-eyed viewers will also notice that the reversible artwork features an image which was also utilized for Jess Franco’s EROTIKILL (1973), the alternate horror version of FEMALE VAMPIRE (1973), which was most commonly seen on Force Video’s big box VHS videocassette from the 1980s.

An absolutely stellar release, Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray / DVD combo of this exceptional Paul Naschy film can and should be regarded as one of finest European genre releases of the year.  Order it at Vinegar Syndrome or DiabolikDVD.