There is a cemetery near where I live. Actually, there are quite a few (no shock
there). In one of them, though, there is
a somewhat unorthodox mausoleum. The
cemetery is not that large (it measures about three blocks long and goes back
another two [not city blocks, mind you]).
Anyway, the mausoleum I’m thinking of sits at the rear of the
cemetery. The family name I cannot
recall, but inside the crypt is a statue of a demon. Why this particular sculpture sits inside a
mausoleum in a Christian cemetery, I haven’t a clue. The rumor is that that the man buried there
was a Devil worshipper (yes, I know it makes no sense), and that on the night
of a full moon, the statue’s eyes glow.
Here’s what I can tell you; I have seen the statue. It does exist and from what I recall, it
definitely is of a horned person.
Whether that would be Satan, a satyr, or a reproduction of
Michelangelo’s Moses statue is uncertain (I was about ten or so when I saw this
thing). The eyes didn’t glow when I saw
it, but then again, I don’t remember if it was a full moon out that night, and
I would probably swear that they did anyway, the human mind being as
suggestible as it is.
Lord Alan Cunningham (Anthony Steffen) is a swinging
widower who likes to pick up redheaded hookers, bring them back to his castle,
torture, and kill them. Nice guy. Creepy brother-in-law, Albert (Roberto Maldera) knows about
these attacks and extorts money from Alan regularly. Alan’s friend Dr. Richard Timberlane (Giacomo Rossi-Stuart) wants Alan
to get help for the seizures he has when he thinks about his dead wife Evelyn (which
is a lot). Cousin George (Enzo Tarascio) takes Alan to a
party, where he meets, falls in love with, and swiftly marries Gladys (Marina Malfatti). After moving into the castle alongside
wheelchair-bound Aunt Agatha (Joan
C. Davis), though, Gladys soon begins to get the feeling that Evelyn may
have some unfinished business with Alan.
Emilio
Miraglia’s The Night Evelyn Came Out Of The Grave (aka La Notte Che Evelyn Uscì Dalla Tomba) is a Giallo, but it really
doesn’t feel like one at the start. For
the better part of the first forty minutes or so, all we get are scenes of Alan
having seizures and whipping hookers in the torture chamber in which none of
them is uncomfortable to be, inexplicably.
As such, there is no real mystery or anything to pique a viewer’s
interest, with the exception of how Evelyn died, and even that isn’t addressed
overtly in this portion of the film (though anyone who has ever watched a movie
before can make a pretty good guess).
From this first half, one expects the film to be about Alan’s maniacal
doings, basically a sleaze and torture film.
Thankfully, though, the story does pick up in the second half, but in
all honesty, getting to the interesting part is fairly difficult, seeing as
there’s nothing all that interesting going on to maintain interest, and the
plot follows a repetitious cycle of events.
Anthony cannot let go of Evelyn, most prominently signified
by the portrait in his bedroom of which he refuses to rid himself. This leads to his obsessive behaviors. He will not allow anyone with red hair in the
castle (humorously, the five maids Aunt Agatha hires look identical, all the
way to their blonde afros). He is
instantly attracted to Gladys and even desires her sexually (he wouldn’t allow
a redheaded prostitute to kiss him, but he has passionate sex with Gladys), and
the viewer gets the idea (based on previous experience) that part of the reason
is her blonde hair. His murderous
episodes serve a dual purpose. On the
one hand, they allow him to take control of a situation that he couldn’t
control the first time around. On the
other hand, they allow him to take out his anger on surrogates, something he
never had the chance to do when his wife was alive. And while the toll his wife’s death took on
him is prevalent throughout the film, after Alan weds Gladys, his violent
outbursts seemingly cease (seizures excepted) and are (somewhat disturbingly)
never brought up again in any significant way (essentially allowing him to
abrogate responsibility for these crimes).
The film uses flashbacks as both exposition and a
reinforcement of the unreliable narrator facet on which the film is built. We see a naked (we assume) Evelyn lilting
through a misty glen. Under a pine tree,
she falls into the embrace of a naked (we assume) Alan. And again, these sequences serve multiple ends. The first is as an allusion to the biblical
Garden of Eden, a time when everything was perfect, and there was no such thing
as sin. The second point is as suggested
explanation for why Alan is the way he is now, and an idealistic interpretation
of events which may or may not have happened, as well as something which is
unattainable in the real world for Alan.
Yet a third point offers that these images only exist in Alan’s head,
and are false, merely more symptoms of Alan’s sickness.
Despite the daunting first half, the film does come into its
own once the supernatural elements enter play.
Early on, Aunt Agatha arranges a séance, wherein Alan sees an image of
Evelyn and passes out, but this episode is shrugged off as being one of
Agatha’s patented unfunny practical jokes.
It isn’t until Gladys informs Alan that she got his evening milk from a
maid with red hair that suddenly avenues open up in the viewer’s mind. The puzzle deepens through the rest of the
film, and it plays heavily on the angle of revenge from beyond the grave. Of course, this means characters are going to
start dropping like flies, and here’s where there is an interesting twist on a
traditional Giallo convention (it was interesting to me, anyway). Those familiar with this subgenre know that
the hidden killer is often only depicted on screen via his (or her) black
gloves. In this film, we do get the
gloves, but they are yellow. Giallo
gloves for a Giallo film. Of course, an
observant watcher of the film will have a pretty good idea of what’s going on
and by whom by the time things get interesting, but by that point, you’re along
for the ride, and there are still several wild twists which I guarantee you
will not see coming and make the film worthwhile to see, but it’s in no way one
of the classics of the subgenre.
MVT: Miraglia’s direction is slick,
professional, evocative, and effective.
He is stylish or subdued as is necessary, and knows when those times are,
though he could admittedly use some work on his pacing. Personally, I’ll be seeking out more of his
films in the future.
Make Or Break: The Make is (as stated above) the moment
when Gladys lets drop that the maid she met in the kitchen had ginger
hair. Something is up, and now the
viewer actively wants to know what and how.
It provides the impetus for the momentum which will drive the film
through the remainder of its runtime, right up to its lunatic finish.
Score: 6.25/10
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