Black Sunday (1960)

I've been holding onto this one for nearly a year, just waiting for Hallowe'en (Check the date today? If only by the "Sell-By" date of the candy you bought for the swarm of urchins accumulating at your door?) This is a well-renowned horror film of the Italian Gothic line. As impressive as the cinematography is—Bava was the cinematographer as well as director (his first feature)—it gets by on "atmosphere"...which it certainly has in graveyard spades...but as far as script, characters, acting....well, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Black Sunday (aka La Maschera del Demoinio aka The Mask of Satan aka Revenge of the Vampire)(Mario Bava, 1960) When it was released in this country (by American International Pictures), it started with a pre-title crawl: "We feel a moral obligation to warn you that the picture you are about to see will shock you as no other film has...Therefore, the producers recommend that it be seen only by those persons with mature minds."

"Mature minds" were rarely the target audience intended by AIP, "moral obligations" aside. But producers Samuel Z. Arkoff and James H. Nicholson had seen the film in Italy and were struck by the exploitation aspects of the film, which boasted an unusual story, some English-speaking actors (although dubbed by others), a few grisly moments, and the production values—specifically the beautiful black and white photography by an Italian cinematographer directing his first full-length film.

That was Mario Bava, 46 at the time of the film's release, he'd been shooting movies since 1939 in his native Italy (although, as one would imagine, his output during World War II, was minimal, but he began working consistently starting in 1947). He has become a cult director, inspiring for a large swath of directors, usually in the exploitation field and the era of the "slasher" film.* You can't do any reading about the horror genre without seeing his name mentioned, and glowingly, incontrovertibly, as a master of the form, and that attracts attention when you're a student of film, even if the subject matter repels.

On a blackened stage representing an ancient grave-yard, occasionally brightened by dramatically timed lightning, black-robed priests are conducting a ceremony. While they ritualistically walk to their destination and their purpose, while a narrator morosely intones: "In the 17th century, Satan was abroad on the Earth, and great was the wrath against those monstrous beings thirsty for human blood, to whom tradition has given the name of "vampires." No appeal for mercy or pity availed, brothers did not hesitate to accuse brothers, and fathers accused sons in the frantic attempt to purify the Earth of that horrible race of blood-devouring assassins. But before putting them to death, human punishment anticipated divine judgment by burning into the flesh of those damned ones the brand of Satan." 

It is St. George's Day, and the group, having already put to death Igor Javutich (Arturo Dominici), turn their undivided attention to Princess Asa Vajda (Barbara Steele) of Moldavia, accused of witchcraft, she is tied to a stake, branded with the "S" mark of Satan, and then sentenced to death: first, they're going to place the internally spiked bronze mask of Satan over her face, hammer it home with a big mallet and then burn her at the stake. Hardly seems complete enough—maybe they should put her out with holy water, scatter her ashes to the wind and salt the Earth with a chaser of Lysol. But the impalement and burning will have to do...they have other fish to...er, fry.

But, they take so long with the slow ritual and the righteous speeches that it gives Asa the chance to spit out a curse to the assembled mob, cursing their houses and future generations as she will have her revenge. As the movie is only five minutes old, that is just about certain.

Two non-devilish centuries later, Dr. Thomas Kruvajan (Andrea Checchi) and his assistant Andre Gorobec (John Richardson) are riding a coach through Moldavia on their way to a medical symposium when—wouldn't you know it?—they get the 19th Century version of a "flat"—one of the carriage wheels breaks. While the driver attempts to repair the wheel—coaches did not have "spares"—Kruvajan and Gorobec decide to take a stroll in the middle of the night and find an ancient crypt. They are medical specialists, so, of course, they are intrigued and, after all, what can go wrong?

Well, a lot, actually. They find the tomb of Princess Asa, an elaborate affair with a glass window over the mask that has been impaled on her face, and above it a crucifix because, why else would you put a window in a coffin? And what better way to keep a "vampire," even a de-fanged one (the fangs were attempted but looked silly, so were abandoned), at bay than a crucifix? As long as everything is in place, the dead will stay buried and things will be right with Moldavia.

Then, a bat attacks and Kruvajan beats at it with his cane, but in the midst of bat-bludgeoning, he manages to smash the crucifix on the coffin, breaking the glass and exposing Asa's masked face to the open air. Kruvajan, not having done enough damage already, decides to pry the mask from Asa's face—which is remarkable well-preserved considering that she was burned at the stake—and, in so doing, cuts his hand on the glass. His blood drips onto the face of the dead witch. Really, really bad move.

When they escape the crypt and move outside to check on the driver and the coach repairs, they are startled by a ghostly form standing just beyond the crypt, who bears a striking resemblance to Princess Asa...

It is Princess Katia Vajda (also Barbara Steele) who has been walking her pet dobermans—also in the dead of night—as the Vajda castle is not far from the crypt. Gorobec is entranced with her beauty, and she tells them that she lives at the castle with her father and brother and she has come to the crypt as she's heard their stumbling around, breaking things and generally making a mess of the crypt—not many people come around those parts, as the castle has a reputation for being haunted. 

The two doctors spend the night at a nearby inn, but things are restless at the Vajda castle. Katia's father, the Prince (Ivo Garrani) knows that it is the anniversary of Asa's death, and as mysterious things have occurred before on the anniversary, he fears for Katia, as she so strongly resembles her evil ancestor (as revealed by a portrait in the castle). He is reminded that as long as keeps a cross around his neck, no evil will befall him.

But, in the crypt, Asa has awakened but is immobile with just the few drops of blood she has. She reaches out with her powers and implores Javutich to rise from the grave to do her bidding. The first task is to get Dr. Kruvajan from the inn on the pretense that the Prince, but the destination is not the Vajda castle, but the crypt where Asa's coffin lies, so that she can get more of the hair of the doc. As Kruvajan approaches, Asa's coffin explodes and she entices him near so she can drain his blood, enabling her to walk among the Moldavians and, ultimately, take over Katia's body, in order to...oh, who knows what she plans to do?

There's a lot of running around the castle, one or two more murders of innocents, crosses or not, and dire consequences for the rest, what with the fangless vampires running around. It's all very gothic in appearance and silly in practice, with no logic to the motivations of the fiends or the mechanizations that they need in order to accomplish what their end-goals are. It's all explained away with "We're in the presence of some unnatural mystery!" Unfathomable, as well.

But, gosh, it looks terrific, and Bava sells it with a skill far beyond the budget seems to allow, and his experience as a director would indicate. This has more to do with his choices of camera angles and atmospherics than it does anything else. And despite the subject matter, the film is often beautiful to look at, the sets built to be seen to their best advantage in black and white (Bava refused to do a later color remake) and the atmospherics are rich in detail, influencing many a horror film that would come after—check out Bram Stoker's Dracula, as an example.

And then, there's Barbara Steele. Hollywood's loss was Italy's gain. The oddly ethereal look of Steele—22 at the time of filming—made her a natural whether she was playing damsel or devil, and she made a career out of playing both to the hilt, although she does more chest-heaving in Black Sunday than any other film in her career. Nor was she afraid  to sacrifice her looks—when it was required—as she is called upon to look hideous with nail-marks in her face as she does in this film—it was certainly good for poster images. She was a trooper and her appearances in so many horror films earned her a place in the staked hearts of so many horror fans as the undisputed "Scream Queen."

* Tim Burton mentioned that Black Sunday was his favorite horror film—as he was working on Ed Wood at the time, so the choice would seem to be appropriate, and certainly his film Sleepy Hollow is very much in the Italian mold—it has the set-bound feel to it, and he seems to have a "thing" for "other-worldly" looking actresses with large set-apart eyes.