“What’sah matter woman? Can’t I fondle my own grandson?”
A finely twisted tale from Italian horror mastermind, Mario Bava. I have yet to delve deeply into his work but as I dip my toes, I see why people have obsessed over the man’s work. This movie feels like a spiritual sequel to the Universal Horror franchise of the 1930’s. A stormy night sets the mood for the series; broody enchanting vampires, voyeuristic killers from beyond the grave and a cursed ring that creates a vicious circle.
Stagey interiors and decrepit old castles all call back to a period rich in horrific atmosphere. Three short films are strung together as Boris Karloff introduces. Vibrant colors flash, juxtaposing the darkness of the night. The pleasant sounds of an orchestra play as a phonograph scratches it’s way into your conscience. Each entry feels like a melodrama gone awry as the tension slowly builds in exercises of paranoia.