La croce dalle 7 pietre

This "film" is a brutal rape of cinematographic art ... the worst film i've ever seen and, since i've been appointed as an expert in trash films, probably the worst ever made in Italy. The subject seems to come out from a neurological hospital such as the screenplay, actors are terrible and terribly directed and special effects are ridiculous at unbelievable levels. Maybe only "Paganini Horror" by Luigi Cozzi and "Blood Delirum" by Sergio Bergonzelli could be considered in the same order of ugliness (but surly better). See to believe ... That's the absolute masterpiece of unconscious trash film-making and potentially better than the best comic movie.

Aboreen,a demon summoned at a black mass possesses the body of a Satanic High Priest.The Satanist uses his new found powers to possess the body of Marco and change him into a sadistic wolfman to do his evil deeds.Marco is only protected from this evil by wearing the "Cross of Seven Jewels" which is stolen from around his neck while taking a trip from Naples to Rome."Cross of the Seven Jewels" is a strikingly inept Italian horror movie with some of the worst special effects ever captured on screen.The acting is abysmal and the gore is amateurish.There is a bit of sleaze and graphic nudity,but the plot is mostly dull.Watch "Spider Labirynth" instead of this load of crap.3 naked werewolves out of 10.

Marco Antonio Andolfi is a man of many talents. He is an actor, a special effects craftsman, a script writer, a film editor, and probably a costume jewelry designer, since the cross mentioned in the title of this film is so prominently displayed one has to conclude that either he or his spouse created the damn thing.

Mr. Andolfi's legendary erotic werewolf horror movie CROSS OF SEVEN JEWELS concerns the woes of Mario, an Italian chap with a bizarre haircut who grew up with the curse of lycanthropy that can only be kept in check by the effects of said cross, which he must wear at all times. If he does not, under the effects of the moon -- full, half full, or even hidden behind clouds -- he reverts to his primal inner monster of a masked naked man who can kill by inflicting the kind of heat gun melting effects seen in RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. He can also tear people limb from limb, and has a curious pastie patch that fits over his private parts to make sure the film doesn't get an X certificate.

Mario travels to Milan to meet his long-lost second cousin, who turns out to be a dishy little sex bombshell in a revealingly tight pink top that was chosen for her wardrobe specifically because it serves to display her pert, perky, permanently erect nipples. I mention this because it was the most memorable positive aspect of the film, even more memorable than the fact that she isn't actually his cousin. Mario is so distracted by her delightful pert breasts that he falls victim to an improbably elaborate street crime involving youths on motorcycles -- inspired by a similar scene from FULL METAL JACKET -- who tear the cross from his chest and promptly turn it over to the city's big crime kingpin. A fence who looks like Groucho Marx and wears a corsage that looks like a squashed tomato.

Meanwhile, Spaghetti Western and Hercules/Peplum star Gordon Mitchell is conducting blasphemous erotic satanic ceremonies down in someone's basement when not mugging for the camera from odd, upwards looking angles that highlight his somewhat sinister rough hewn facial features. Spaghetti Western and Euro Horror icon George Ardisson is dispatched by a corrupt local politician to find out wassap with that goofy cross, leading Mario to an energetic sexual encounter with a bikini clad fortune teller who is really a prostitute. This is some movie.

Marco Antonio Andolfi must have been a very wealthy playboy type schnook with a lot of free time on his hands and access to film-making facilities. As my fellow commenter has pointed out, he is obviously a fan of Spain's Paul Naschy and his tragic erotic werewolf cartoons. Mr. Andolfi wanted to pay homage to Naschy (and every other movie he had seen in his life) and this was the result. It is a remarkable little vanity project, devoid of any sense of traditional cinematic craft other than the presence of Mr. Mitchell, Mr. Ardisson, and the girl with the amazing breasts. Even the werewolf transformation scenes have a sort of blasé artlessness about them that is made more poignant by noting that when he becomes a werewolf he is nude, but when reverting back to his old self his clothes are back, except for one instance at the very end that is supposed to be a love scene.

Marco Antonio Andolfi's most visible talent lies with his haircut, which is so precise that it makes an almost perfect 90 degree angle where the sideburns meet the top of his hairline. He looks a lot like "Seinfeld"'s Kramer, though without that smoldering look of insanity just waiting to be unleashed. I almost feel bad writing some of this because it is quite obvious that Marco Antonio Andolfi poured his very heart & soul into this film, and yet it's most useful purpose is as a source of uproarious unintentional comedy. Are we supposed to take it seriously? I sincerely hope not, but something tells me otherwise and I would hate to hurt his feelings if he ever came upon my little review here.

So I'd like to take a second to say: Marco, I loved your werewolf movie, though probably for reasons other than those you intended. It is one of the most amazing little movies ever made, filled with so many little wonderful gems -- like the tie that is always perfectly in place -- that a mere 1,000 words cannot begin to communicate it's value as an entertainment. Wherever you are and whatever you are doing now, the world is richer for having your werewolf movie as a testament to your desire to having wanted to see it for yourself, which is why people should make art in the first place. I hope you show it every day in your restaurant or whatever you do with yourself just to remind the everyday people who eat there that they are in the presence of a legend.

4/10

After arriving in a coastal town, a man intending to visit the area with his cousin finds himself thrust into the underworld when a trivial robbery sends him on a quest to recover the stolen cross taken from him, setting him off to recover the fabled item before falling victim to an animalistic curse.

This was a decidedly decent if somewhat underwhelming sleazy genre effort. Among the few likable factors involved here is the rather intriguing premise that sets everything in motion. While there are a lot of different elements at play, the idea of the stolen object preventing a deadly werewolf curse from befalling him and the protection no longer working with it being stolen allowing him to turn into the deadly creature as a means of helping to retrieve it comes off with a fine touch, especially with the way it's only revealed about the purpose in a flashback towards the end of the film. Rather than launching into it immediately, the frantic quest to retrieve it taking up the majority of the running time makes for a fine enough introduction to what's going on here. With this leading him into several encounters with the thugs holding the cross and featuring some cheesy if exciting-by-comparison action scenes of him throwing them around and melting faces for some decent enough sequences and the bizarre sexual antics of the cult in their dungeon, it has some There are some rather problematic issues on display with this one. One of the main drawbacks to be the film is the highly convoluted and discordant plotline that sees a large number of different stories and plot points get brought into this one for no reason. The setup with the robbery group and their connection to the cult trying to control the area itself feels rather overdone but workable on its own without the need for the congruent police investigation that goes nowhere, the sightseeing trip that is oddly out-of-place considering what's gone on in the film before that and how these are brought into the film without much thought for a coherent throughline makes for some issues. Since nothing is made of why the cousin is so reluctant to follow along, or why there are hints of a budding romance between them, leaves a lot to be desired without anything here making sense of these different factors. The other issue here, which is just as damaging and detrimental, is the underwhelming and barely-there technical aspects that are present throughout here. The most obvious is the ludicrous design of the wolfman and the means to bring it to life on-screen, as the look basically resembles exactly how it was made. Featuring a simplistic mask that comes down over the face as if his whiskers are overgrown and pulled down behind his head into a mullet, the fact that there's healthy unchanged skin underneath the seams and edges of the piece makes for a laughable monster. The gloved clawed hands he wears are just as bad with their seams being just as visible connecting to his forearms, and with the rest of his body completely healthy and nude without any fur or make-up on it, the end result is among the most ludicrous creatures in the genre, lowering this one significantly.

Rated Unrated/R: Full Nudity, Violence, strong sexual scenes, and Language.

The worst movie of all time. There aren't enough words describing the mediocrity of this movie.

Watching this movie It's incitement to suicide.