Text © Richard Gary/Indie Horror
Films, 2014
Images from the Internet
Elite Entertainment
60 minutes, 2005 / 2013
www.MVDvisual.com
Images from the Internet
Hanging
Shadows: Perspectives on Italian Cinema
Written,
produced and directed by Paolo Fazzini Elite Entertainment
60 minutes, 2005 / 2013
www.MVDvisual.com
Before the VHS explosion of the ‘80s,
it was rare to see an Italian horror films either on the screen or especially television.
What we did get was usually directed by
Mario Bava, such as La maschera del
demonio, aka The Mask of Satan,
though it as more commonly known as Black
Sunday (1960), and the terrifying
I tre volti della paura, or as we
knew it, Black Sabbath (1963), possibly
Boris Karloff’s last truly scary role.
Of course, we kids didn’t know it was Italian,
we just knew it was dubbed. Most of the films shown on this side of the
Atlantic whatever the presentation medium, were highly edited, thanks to
nudity, blood, and the last remnants of the Hollywood Code system. Besides,
most horror viewers back then were teenage couples with the guys looking for
reasons to put their arms around their dates.
In college, during the late 1970s, I
was introduced to New Wave Italian
cinema, such as Luchiano Visconti, Roberto Rossellini, and the realism auteur
Michael Antonioni. They were great, technically superb, but the left me kind of
cold. I wasn’t sure why I was supposed to care about many of the characters and
left me asking, “che cosa?” But it
wasn’t until a few short years later that I discovered the piasan niche for which I was looking.
Italian horror cinema, as I said,
really came into its golden days in the 1980s, when video stores were springing
up every few blocks, its clients hungry for new products, with the two biggest
sellers being horror and porn. It was easy to walk into any store and find
campy and bloody delights. Names started to be known, like Leo Fulci, Dario
Argento, and Lamberto Bava. The posters alone would become iconic, such as
Fulci’s Zombie (aka Zombi 2, 1979 .
What made these films so popular was the
sheer audacity of them. Many of them were silly, campy, or made no sense, but
we later found out that was because they were edited, and usually had multiple
names with each version being slightly different. We were seeing lots of gore,
but distributors seemed to think that the bleak endings would not fit well with
Middle America. It took many years to finally see the real end of The Gates of Hell (aka City of the Living Dead aka Paura nella citta dei morti veventi,
1980); in fact, it wasn’t until it was released on DVD.
The gore effects in these films were
stunning: maggots falling out of zombie eyeholes, eyes yanked into shards of
wood, bodies pulled apart, bugs eating away at flesh, heads pulled through a drill
press, and blood spontaneously pouring out of eyes. Again, they ran from realistic
to “fakey,” but it was always mechanical rather than digital. I used to love to
try and figure out how they did it. I remember seeing a film where a women
spews out her entire intestinal tract and laughing, and then not being able to
look at work the next day when someone cut her finger.
If
you talk to most of the up-and-coming filmmakers I’ve reviewed, such as Sean
Weathers, Dustin Wayde Mills and Richard Marr-Griffin, they will all proudly
bear witness to their Italian horror viewing backgrounds. This genre’s
popularity has not changed over time, either. Just this past fall, a pal had a
day of zombie film viewing with his friends (I was included), and two of them (Zombie and Michele Soavi’s Cemetery Man [aka Delamorte Delamore, 1994]) were of Italian origin, and it was still
visceral.
This
hour-long documentary is an Italian import as well, created nearly a decade
ago, but only recently released in a non-academic forum. We meet many of the
directors, writers, and special effect artists that contributed to the field,
most of them among the most cherished by the genre’s fans, such as Argento,
Bava, and late-comer Soavi.
The
film explores the methods behind the madness. For example Soavi explains he
hates horror films, but is more into realistic images, so cannibals, rather
than zombies, eating people is not horror, and he posits that he does not like
the title of horror he is often
labeled. .He interestingly comments on the comparative and real graphic images
often shown on the television news.
Lamberto
Bava tells how he came up with the idea for Demons
(aka Demoni, 1985), comparing it to
mass media: The first film takes place in a movie house where the demons come
out of the projected images; in Demons 2 (aka Demoni 2… l’incubo ritorna, 1985), they come out of the even more
accessible television; and in a planned but unrealized third film, it was to
come out of the press.
In
Italian with English subtitles, the talking parts are pretty short and jump
from person to person often, though gratefully the subject’s name is presented
often. It comes out a bit disjointed, but once you get the rhythm, it’s
fascinating.
Mixed
in with the taking heads are many shots from the films, usually the gore scenes
and often with nudity, though it’s rare that any clip lasts longer than 10
seconds, and there is hardly any that have dialog.
There
are two extras here, focusing in on one director each
The first is of my favorite director of
the period, “Leo Fulchi, Italian Godfather of Gore.” Lasting a mere six
minutes, it delves into the man rather than the movies, which is great. One of
the three people discussing Fulchi (d. 1996) is his daughter, Antonella. The second
short is “Mario Bava: Wizard of Fear” is slightly shorter, but again, three
people describe Bava (d. 1980) and part of his process, such as his use of quick
close-ups, that was copied into spaghetti westerns. The main clip they show is
from Black Sunday¸ as they call it
here, with the lovely Barbara Steele.
If
you’re a fan of these kinds of film, and we are legion, this is a must see.
Otherwise, you might find the visuals quite shocking.
Bonus videos:
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