THE WAX MASK

(Sergio Stivaletti, 1997)

This turn of the century period horror opens with the brutal murder of an Italian couple, living in Paris, by a metal-clawed madman who tears out their hearts. Unknown to the beast is that their daughter Sonia, hidden beneath their bed, is alive and the sole witness to the carnage.

Years later, in Rome, Sonia becomes employed as costume designer in a new wax museum opened by artistic genius Boris Volkoff. There she meets photographer Andrea, who's drawn to the museum and it's eerily life-like collection of wax automatons, after a man, dead of fright (in an obvious homage to Tourneur's "Figures De Cire/ The Man With Wax Faces"), is found there. As more of the locals begin to disappear, Andrea and Sonia begin to suspect that there may be more to the wax figures' realism than meets the eye.

Producer Dario Argento originally intended to give the director's seat to Lucio Fulci, who co-wrote the story with Daniele Stroppa and Argento himself, but Fulci's untimely death prior to filming left the direction to special effects wiz Sergio Stivaletti. One would think, from watching The Wax Mask, that Dario had directed this himself. Stivaletti emulates (successfully, I might add) Argento, but the film moves more quickly than most of the maestro's work. The story's basically an ode to the house of wax films of yore, with a little giallo thrown in. Nothing new, but it is a stylish, visually pleasing film.

Argento's use of colour and lighting give TWM a touch of retro appeal and a heap of horrific atmosphere. His fetishistic images of gloved hands, bondage, needles, broken glass, and water are also inserted lovingly, once again leaving the impression that Dario was at the helm. The acting's not all that bad, though, as usual, the overdubbing is somewhat cheesy. It's a pity Fulci didn't live to direct, as his visual style mixed with Argento's might have produced something magical. The fact that the two were finally collaborating makes it all the more tragic. Still, it's a decent twist on an old story, and a fun watch.

PERVERSION STORY aka One On Top Of The Other

(Lucio Fulci, 1969)

Dr George Dumurrier's (Jean Sorel) asthmatic wife Susan (Marisa Mell) is found dead, and to complicate matters, he's been named sole beneficiary of her will. Having a mistress and lying about the operations performed in his clinic don't really add to the Dr's credibilty, and he soon finds himself under the scrutiny of the police.

The stress really starts to sink in on the newly liberated George when, at a topless go-go bar with his girlfriend, he meets a stripper, Monica (Marisa Mell again), who looks uncannily like a blonde version of his deceased wife. The freakish resemblance leads the police to believe it's an elaborate case of insurance fraud, which doesn't bode well for poor George.

I was not prepared to enjoy this as much as I did, knowing what I thought I did about Fulci. Here he's at the top of his game, at his arty best. This was early in his career, well before he became disillusioned and bitter with the film industry, and it really shows. True to the time it came out, Perversion Story is a 60's experimental experience with sharp editing, creative compositions and opticals, split-screen effects, and ,of course, nudity. To top it all off, it has a fan-funkin-tastic jazz score by Riz Ortolani.

There's little violence and gore in this early giallo, two post-Bird With The Crystal Plumage genre requirements, but the story's compelling enough to maintain interest. And there's the sex scenes too. Lots of 'em. Once again though, they're done quite tastefully and artistically. Oh Lucio, why couldn't you have maintained this standard with all of your films?

BLOODY MOON aka Luna Di Sangue

(Enzo Milioni, 1989)

Ahh, another ultra low-budget Lucio Fulci Presents film. This is one of the least-interesting titles in the series, and a giallo to boot. It's one saving grace is the violent, gory set-pieces that pop up just as the viewer is starting to nod off. Readers, please keep in mind I watched the unsubbed Italian version (and my Italian is pretty basic), so feel free to correct me if there's anything I misinterpreted!

After an afternoon of horseback riding, heiress Ann Moffett discovers the bloody, almost faceless corpse of her husband Larry in the stable. No one, including her psychiatrist, believes her when no body is found. A letter found by Larry's secretary Mary informs them that he's left for a long vacation.

Not long after, a man claiming to be Larry arrives at the villa. This freaks Ann out badly, as he even resembles her missing husband. Things get worse for Ann from there when she gets creepy midnight phone calls from someone else claiming to be Larry, sees maggots and worms where they shouldn't be, and encounters Larry's reanimated, bloodied corpse. Is Ann's dead husband tormenting her, or is there something more sinister afoot?

Well, it's a giallo, so it's obviously the latter. Despite the awesomely bloody death scenes, Bloody Moon is a dull, tiresome affair. Everything was pretty standard. The music, cinematography, and acting were all passable, but nothing more. On the other hand, there's some amusingly unsavory elements, the worst of the lot being the incestuous relationship between the stablehand and his somewhat retarded daughter. In probably the most cringe-inducing scene in the film, the daughter gives her dad a bj... shortly before she's shot in the back of the head and his penis is shot off (in closeup no less!). Gruesome, I must say. There's also a nifty beheading by scythe, which was reused in Fulci's A Cat In The Brain, and a face-shooting awaiting the extremely patient viewer. I definitely wouldn't recommend this to the average viewer.

THE BLACK CAT

(Lucio Fulci, 1981)

A viciously clever black cat is stalking and killing the residents of a small English town. The deaths appear to be accidental, so no further investigation is undertaken. While taking pictures of a crypt in an old graveyard, photographer Jill Trevers (Mimsey Farmer) discovers the head of a microphone, which leads her to the local psychic, Robert Miles (Patrick Magee), who used it to record his conversations with the dead. Jill learns that the old man is routinely tormented by the black cat, and witnesses such an attack.

When Jill is called in by inspector Gorley (David Warbek) to photograph the recently deceased town drunk, she spots scratch marks on the corpse's hand and puts two and two together. But as Jill and the inspector get closer to a truth far stranger than might have been predicted, they find themselves the targets of the diabolical feline.

The Black Cat was clearly a break from Fulci's prior gore-soaked zombie epics. I can only assume he wanted to make a classier, more suspenseful film as opposed to the exploitive, violent films he was known for, which surely alienated a number of his fans. There's little blood, no regurgitated innards, no eye trauma, and the Pino Donaggio score is much lighter than the electronic soundtracks in previous efforts. The slow pacing and hypnotic zoom and cat's POV shots do give it a dreamy, atmospheric edge, but the cheap special effects and thoroughly nonsensical actions on behalf of most of the characters do detract from this. It's worth a gander, but don't expect all-out Fulci carnage. Buy it here.