Cimetière pour morts vivants

An attorney (Walter Brandi) arrives at a castle to settle the estate of its recently deceased owner. The owner's wife (Barbara Steele) and daughter reveal that he was someone who was able to summon the souls of ancient plague victims and, in fact, his spirit was roaming the castle at that very moment.

Not surprisingly for an Italian film of 1965, the quality (at least in the copy released by Mill Creek) is of average or below average quality. And unlike Mario Bava's "Planet of the Vampires", which came out the same year, this film is in black and white. Hopefully some day a company will invest in cleaning up an original print. (Dark Sky Films would be perfect for this, if we use their version of "She-Beast" as a template. Comparing the Mill Creek version of that film with Dark Sky's is the difference between trash and treasure.)

The most redeeming element of this film is Barbara Steele, who steals the show with her large, mesmerizing eyes. Walter Brandi, who plays the attorney Albert Kovac, is a formidable lead, and it is a shame I am not better acquainted with him. He appeared in other horror gems of the era: "Bloody Pit of Horror" and "Curse of the Blood Ghouls", and acts as sort of a poor man's Giacomo Rossi-Stuart. Interestingly, the actress who showed the most potential -- Tilde Till, who played the maid -- never acted in anything else.

Director Massimo Pupillo gave producer Ralph Zucker the directing credit, despite Zucker having no directing responsibilities at all. Why Pupillo found this film not worthy of carrying his name is beyond me... it is a solid story, allegedly based on the work of Edgar Allan Poe (though I do not know which story and rather doubt the source). To say Pupillo was a rival of Bava would give him too much credit, but he is an important figure in the early Italian horror scene.

Perhaps, in fact, Pupillo was a colleague of Bava's. The film's writer, Romano Migliorini, also wrote the Bava classics "Kill Baby Kill" and "Lisa and the Devil"... not to mention the original "Inglorious Bastards". So maybe they were all within the same circle? Yet, Bava now has the glory while this atmospheric Gothic horror -- easily on par with Roger Corman's Poe films -- is left forgotten.

Luca Palmerini's review consists of two words: "good stuff". Ignoring the occasional audio problems and lackluster video quality, this is a fair statement. The plot, acting and directing are all superb, and any fan of classic film will really enjoy it. Again, I hope a better copy surfaces, but until then there is still enough to appreciate here.

Quintessential spaghetti horror film; it even stars Barbara Steele, the queen of such films. Every is there, the over-blown scenery including a medieval castle, a cast of delectable victims, the couple in love, and lots mysterious, unexplainable deaths, and as a bonus a memorable soundtrack. Is it the work of a maniacal killer(of course) or something more?

I originally caught this black and white thriller in 1966 on a double bill with the color Bloody Pit Of Horror and Terror Creatures made more of an impression on me. It has great atmosphere, graphic special effects makeup (for the time) and a wonderful soundtrack. If anything is lacking, the ending seems a bit rushed. I recommend the VHS version that Something Weird released a few years back. It is struck from an immaculate print and contains the European version of the movie-this includes a brief topless shot (unfortunately not of Babs Steele but she does emerge from her bath in a subsequent tantalizing scene.) The Alpha Video DVD release is taken from a rather scratchy print and is minus the nudity but is available for less than $6.00. This Italian shocker would be a welcome addition to any Euro film collection.

Even my third generation, dubbed copy of this Italian made creature feature can't obscure the fact that this is a prime slice of Gothic cinema. Walter Brandi (Playgirls and the Vampire) stars as a lawyer sent to a gloomy castle to meet a client...who turns out to have been dead for a year! Barbara Steele is here as the widow of the deceased, and there's a plentiful supply of red herrings, gruesome make-up (all the more suggestive in black and white), thunder and lightning, and terrific atmosphere. The English language print seems to have suffered some cuts (though it is, surprisingly, letterboxed correctly), so I await a DVD restoration.

After receiving a letter from spiritualist Jeronimus Hauff, requesting to discuss the details of his will, lawyer Albert Kovac (Walter Brandi) arrives at the Hauff villa only to discover that his client has been dead for almost a year. Invited to stay the night by Hauff's widow Cleo (enigmatic Italian horror legend Barbara Steele), a perplexed Albert begins to investigate the mysterious circumstances behind his client's death, a series of recent grisly murders leading him to realise the full terrifying extent of Hauff's powers: the ability to call on the spirits of long-dead 'plague spreaders' to help him exact revenge on those who betrayed him.

Stephen King once described Sam Raimi's gruelling 1981 splatter-fest The Evil Dead as 'ferociously original'. Ferocious it most certainly is, but having just seen Massimo Pupillo's stylish Gothic horror Terror Creatures From The Grave (1965) I'm no longer so sure about original, for as I watched, I couldn't help but repeatedly draw parallels between it and Raimi's classic video nasty.

Both films feature a group of people in a creepy abode who fall victim to evil spirits from beyond the grave; both films have someone listening to an old recording detailing the demonic powers at work; both films make use of a lullaby to add extra creepiness; both films have a character who wanders out into some creepy woods only to turn up at the door later covered in wounds; both films have clocks that stop and start at will; and both films feature a demonic POV tracking shot that ends up in an extreme close up of a character's terrified face. Hell, Terror Creatures even has a couple of scenes of nasty gore (albeit in black and white).

However, spotting these similarities hasn't made me think any less of Raimi: we all have to get our inspiration from somewhere, and The Evil Dead remains a firm favourite of mine, a superb piece of film-making that never fails to entertain. If anything, my love for Raimi's film has helped me to appreciate this particular Euro-horror more than I otherwise might have, every comparison driving home just how inventive and visually arresting Pupillo's film really is, despite its sometimes confusing story, admittedly creaky Gothic clichés, and undeniably weak denouement.