Tap Dancing to Hell and a Pot o'Gold — Part Two
In Part One, after discussing Castle of Blood, Zombos, Iloz Zoc, and Chef Machiavelli reluctantly go into the mansion's basement to find the missing plumber. Read on, if you dare.
"Well this is just swell," I said. "Now we've lost Chef Machiavelli."
"He can't have gone too far ahead." Zombos shone his flashlight down the tunnel on the left.
We were standing in the second large chamber of the perpendicular brick Gothic basement that ran like a rabbit's warren all around the mansion and toward the beach. Expanded by the original owner of the mansion before he went insane, the basement is a mosaic of tunnels and vaulted rooms that connect to three large chambers. Before that, boot-leggers used the tunnels to run hootch, and before them, pirates used the beach tunnel to store their rum and hide their booty.
The plumber was not in the boiler room, but the good thing was that we now had heat back.
"Well then, let's head this way," Zombos said. "We really need to replace these burned-out light bulbs."
He pointed to one of the dark spots in the string of lights that ran through the basement. There were a lot of dark spots because no one liked coming down here, especially me.
A few yards into the tunnel he tripped over something sticking out of the dirt floor. He swung the light over as he picked himself up. It was an arm. In the clenched fist were daisies. We looked down at the floor and suddenly noticed the large patch of bright yellow daisies growing all around the elbow.
"Good lord! Pull man, pull!" I grabbed the arm and pulled as hard as I could. Zombos pulled on the forearm. Together we unburied the plumber.
"What the hell! I'll murderlize da bum," spit out the plumber, along with some daisies. He pulled himself out of the dirt, spitting and brushing it from his mouth and clothes.
"What happened?" I asked.
"I got tha boiler workin'," said Curly Joe. "Then I'm packin' up and I hear dis voice coming from one of the tunnels. Nice, sexy voice, you know, just like Barbara Steele should sound like. I go lookin' and the next thing I know a little guy is cursin' me and I'm cursin' him back. Last thing I remember is I'm tellin' him he's goin' ta be pushin' up daisies if he keeps yellin' at me and bam, I'm spittin' up daisies and dirt."
"This isn't good," I said. "It sounds like we have a— "
"Did you say Barbara Steele?" interrupted Zombos.
"Yeah, ya know, that sultry knockout horror dame. I know they often dubbed her voice in those eye-talian films, but that voice made me think of her. Just watched Black Sunday last night, too," said Curly Joe.
"Now's not the time to disc—"
"Oh, right, The Mask of Satan, also known as Black Sunday. I say, that is a capital Italian Gothic horror film," Zombos said. "In fact, we were just discussing Castle of Blood before we came looking for you. Good thing we did, too — look for you, that is."
"We really should be—"
Zombos' cell phone started ringing. "Hello? Oh, hello Annalee. What's that? No? Really? I can't believe he did that. I'll let him know." He put the cell phone back in his pocket. He flashed that annoying grin again. "That was Annalee Newitz, you know, your biggest fan."
"What did she want?" I asked.
Zombos chuckled. "You called her Amy Newitz in that interview you did for The Commentator. She was calling to mention that you screwed up the name of your biggest fan — or should I say former biggest fan."
"Oh my god! Quick, give me the phone. I can't believe I screwed up her name." Zombos handed the cell phone to me. I called Alessandro Nicolo at The Commentator.
"What service do you guys use? My cell never works when I'm in basements and tunnels," Curly Joe said.
"Damn! Alessandro's in Brooklyn at a wedding. I got his voicemail. Hey, Sandro, it's Zoc. I need a big favor. I screwed up my biggest fan's name in your Five Questions interview just posted. Please change "Amy" Newitz to read "Annalee" Newitz as soon as you hear this, okay?" I hung up. "Can things get any worse?"
"Speaking of Mario Bava's wonderfully atmospheric Black Sunday," Zombos continued, "I'm simply amazed at his use of rolling camera work and artistic framing to create a modestly budgeted masterpiece of the supernatural that is the quintessential Italian Gothic.The film is a licorice and vanilla confection, filled with sugary, gamboling fog, bitter, dark chocolate forests stuffed with dead trees whose crunchy branches clutch at unwary travelers, and landscapes overflowing with the cream of foreboding."
I looked at Zombos. Curly Joe looked at Zombos. I leaned against the brick wall and tried to make myself as comfortable as possible: we were going to be there for awhile.
Whenever you have a large muscular guy heating up a branding iron in a brazier, hooded guys holding smoking torches, and no marshmallows or guitars in sight, you know something evil is around.
Princess Asa (Barbara Steele) has been a naughty witch and vampire, and her relatives have called this little crisis-intervention to hammer some sense into that beautiful, but evil head of hers. Of course, she'd rather they didn't do the hammering with that wicked, multi-spike bronze mask, but hey, family never listens, right?
That chilling close-up of the inside of the mask, with all those long, sharp spikes, doesn't thrill her either. As the big muscular guy walks over with a hammer that would put Mjolnir to shame, the mask is held on her terrified face. Her accomplice, Javutich (played by the naturally creepy Arturo Dominici), already had his facial, so he's enjoying the snooze of the damned. She, understandably, curses everybody in sight before the mask is pounded down with verve, sending blood spraying from its edges.
Now two-hundred years later, her curse is about to descend on her descendants as two travelers — the usual men-of-science — stumble upon her tomb and unwittingly release her vengeful spirit. Where would horror films be without those arrogant, but bumbling men-of-science?
As their coach makes its way through the dark, mist-shrouded forest, a wheel pops off. To kill time while the coachman attends to the wheel, they explore the surrounding woods and come across the ruins of an old church and cemetery. Dr. Gorobec and Dr. Kruvajan come across Princess Asa's tomb in the process, and dutifully remove all the protections that have locked her in her crypt for two centuries.
The scenes of the church ruins, cemetery, and crypt are filmed like illustrations in a child's sinister fairy tale. They are surprisingly artistic, effectively dismal, and eerie as the sombre sky merges with the bleak forest. When our two doctors enter the tomb of Princess Asa, the camera swings three-sixty to highlight the decay, cobwebs, and charnel artifacts of her abandoned resting place, bringing out every decrepit nook and cranny to perfection.
Before leaving, Dr. Kruvajan makes sure to cut his hand and bleed over the princess' exposed corpse, releasing the drops of blood that will start her revivification. Mario Bava's ingenious use of special effects and lighting make the transformation of the putrid corpse to voluptuous — even with the large holes in her face — witch a creepy delight to watch. Tim Lucas' interesting commentary for the film discusses Bava's masterful but simple effects tricks for the revivification process, which include egg yolks, rice, and special lighting that included reds and greens to create inexpensive but effective make-up effects.
The beautiful
Katia greets the two doctors as they exit the tomb. Bearing a striking resemblance to her ancestor, Asa, she will become the target for the evil witch's rebirth. Queue the romantic music first, however, as Dr. Gorobec immediately takes a fancy to her.
In no time at all, the evil Asa revives her cohort, Vivutich, and begins her plan of revenge. The cinematography is filled with light and shadow, cobwebs, secret passageways, trapdoors, and atmospheric setpieces. Bava films it all in such a non-assuming yet attention-to-detail way, it's a pleasure to watch.
Her first order of business is to frighten the life out of the current prince, Katia's father, holding title to the family castle, then lure Dr. Kruvajan to her and wring the rest of his blood and life from him. With them under her control, she will then possess the body of Katia. While she's still reviving in her tomb, she sends Vivutich to do her dirty work.
The attack on the prince begins with the fireplace opening to reveal the secret passageway to Princess Asa's tomb. The spectral presence of Vivutich charges forth, knocking down the suits of armor lining the hallway as he invisibly makes his way up to the bedroom where the cowering prince waits in dread for the evil by night. The prince wards off the attack with a crucifix, but he's driven nearly insane by the encounter.
Next, in a dreamlike slow-motion sequence, Vivutich races through the mist-swirling forest in a rococo-styled coach from hell to bring Dr. Kruvajan to Asa. The good doctor falls into the trap, and after a bumpy coach ride, he is led unbeknownst through the castle — and the secret door in the fireplace — back into the tomb where it all started.
This one sequence, with Vivutich leading the way holding a lantern, is camera-poetry in motion. From beginning to end, it encapsulates the very essence of Gothic horror with its stark black and white imagery and simple actions. At the end, with Dr. Kruvajan running to catch up to Vivutich only to find the lantern, no longer held by Vivutich, hovering in mid-air as the door to Asa's tomb slowly opens, you are left with a resounding "nicely done!" sense of admiration. Now if only more modern-day independent horror directors would emulate such artistry, the horror genre would be better for it.
With Kruvajan now a walking corpse, and Katia's father no better, Princess Asa begins her final plan of conquest. Soon the castle is overrun with evil as servants are killed and Dr. Gorobec and Katia's brother square off against Vivutich in a final confrontation involving a nasty hole in the floor. Meanwhile, Katia is lured to and trapped in the witch's tomb, while angry villagers, in grand Universal Studios monster tradition, light the torches and storm the castle to confront the evil in their midst.
The Image Entertainment DVD is a clean anamorphic (1.66:1) version of this must-see classic, and it vividly captures the depth of the black and white imagery with amazing clarity. While the extras include a still gallery, trailer, and filmography notes, the shining featurette is Tim Lucas' commentary. A noted Bava authority, Lucas provides interesting technical information regarding the camera techniques and special effects that Bava devised and executed for this film, such as using colored grease-pencils and reverse -color lighting to produce a rapid-aging effect; a classic technique made possible with black and white photography.
"I say, what's that?" Zombos asked.
"What?" I said.
"There, at your feet." Zombos pointed. A little opening had appeared where I was leaning against the wall. My shoulder apparently pressed some hidden mechanism.
He shone his flashlight into the opening. Putting the flashlight aside, he reached in and pulled out a wooden box. "How wonderful! They're tap dancing shoes," Zombos said, holding up the pair of black, shiny shoes. "I simply must try these on. They look like my size."
"Wait a minute," I said. "Didn't you see Red Shoes?" He didn't listen.
"Incredible. They're absolutely comfortable. I almost feel like I could tap dance forever in them. I've always wanted to tap dance, you know, ever since I was a little boy."
His right foot started first, then his left, and pretty soon he was doing a paddle and roll.
"I thought you said you didn't know how to tap dance?"
"I don't." Zombos was now doing the shim sham shimmy.
"You better take those off."
"I can't! I can't seem to stop myself," Zombos said, huffing and puffing.
I motioned to Curly Joe to grab him around the arms while I reached for his shoes, but Zombos was already shuffling down the tunnel to the Susquehanna three-step before I could untie them.
"Zoc, Zoc, stop these crazy things!" he cried as he disappeared into the distance.
Curly Joe and I looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and raced after him.
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