The House by the Cemetery (1981) – DVD

*½/**** Image B+ Sound B
starring Catriona MacColl, Paolo Malco, Ania Pieroni, Giovanni Frezza
screenplay by Lucio Fulci, Giorgio Mariuzzo, Dardano Sacchetti
directed by Lucio Fulci

by Walter Chaw Released in 1981, the same year as his superior The Beyond, Lucio Fulci's The House by the Cemetery is an unintentionally hilarious film that nonetheless manages to provide a few cringe-worthy gore showcases on its way to collapsing in on its own shaky foundation. The score, by Walter Rizzati, is an entirely inappropriate homage to the melodramatic histrionics of Hanna-Barbera's "Scooby-Doo" organ flourishes, and the horrifically bad dubbing only goes partway towards explaining the awfulness of the acting and the pointlessly gimmicky direction. The only time that The House by the Cemetery is something other than an alien soap opera, in fact, is when Fulci does what Fulci does best: leer at Gino De Rossi's (Cannibal Ferox) superbly discomfiting make-up effects.

The mentor friend of Dr. Norman Boyle (Paolo Malco) has killed his mistress and offed himself. Naturally, Norman moves his wife and child to the mentor's home in Massachusetts, the titular house by the cemetery, in an attempt to discover his friend's last research project–and, perhaps, the reasons behind the old fellow's psychotic dementia. Soon, his long-suffering wife Lucy (Catriona MacColl) discovers a crypt cover embedded in their hallway, their insufferable boy Bob (Giovanni Frezza, more on him later) has visions of a little girl who warns him to stay away, and their somnambulant nanny (Ania Pieroni) stands around looking sleepy while menacing music blares on the soundtrack. Worst of all, the evil Dr. Freudstein (snicker) is living in the boarded-up basement, collecting body parts to rejuvenate the maggot jelly that appears to be the chief component of his loathsome innards.

While it is a prototypical spam-in-a-cabin flick that seems to have, to varying degrees, inspired both Raimi's The Evil Dead and Barker's Hellraiser (each better films in thematic and technical execution), The House by the Cemetery is, at its heart, a rather unapologetic rip-off of The Shining, complete with a towheaded psychic kid beset by visions, mysterious old photographs and ghostly girls, an academic father who moves his family to the isolated locale of a past tragedy, and, eventually, a hatchet through a door. Elements from Argento's supernatural films crop up now and again in a pair of glowing eyes (Suspiria) and the unhealthy preoccupation with maggots, yet Fulci must rank below the "Italian Hitchcock" in that his films, by and large, seem to lack the kind of imagistic coherence that Argento's similarly disjointed thrillers/homages possess (while also lacking the impudent exuberance of a Mario Bava).

Paced with little understanding of tension (especially numerous false alarms that are only identifiable as such in retrospect), and with Fulci's trademark overreliance on extreme zooms to convey emotion, provide characterization, and narrate vital interpersonal exchanges, The House by the Cemetery stands as not only one of Fulci's most poorly conceptualized works (making his New York Ripper seem like Yojimbo by comparison), but also, ironically, one of the Italian gore-meister's most entertaining films. There are few candidates campier or riper for a "Mystery Science Theater" treatment than The House by the Cemetery, and if you're wired just the right way, it's easy to see the cult appeal of this masterpiece of uproariously bad exploitation cinema. The chief offender is young Bob, so boggle-eyed and insipid that it's impossible to muster up much in the way of concern for his peril and the recipient of a dub so poor it's become legendary. Similarly unforgivable is an overwrought battle with a rubber bat and locked-door intrigue that is so interminable it loses any anxiety a full minute before its resolution.

Gore aficionados, however, will appreciate a knife in the head that exits through a mouth, an excruciatingly slow death by fire poker, a neck ripped out, a multiple throat-slashing/beheading, and a chamber of horrors sequence with acres of entrails and post-mortem atrocity. The effects work is superb even after two decades, although the ultimate impact of the grue is mostly ameliorated by the nonsensical dialogue and direction. The wonderful visuals are additionally something of an ironic disappointment in that they serve to remind that the focus of the film is badly misplaced on the wheezy plot and overmatched actors. There is very simply too much time suffering the treacle to get to the brimstone in the breezy, 87-minute The House by the Cemetery.

With foreshadowing that mostly involves a realtor accidentally driving over a grave and muttering "damn tombstones!" and a score provided by a maniac I would have thought was kidding if not for his involvement in Thunder Warrior II, The House by the Cemetery is a film that unintentionally falls into the realm of self-parody. In other words, it's so over-the-top awful and unpleasant that it's actually sort of good.

THE DVD
Either one was not available (which is most likely), or, realizing that there is really no other way to savour the hilarity of the script without the magnificently inept dubbing, Anchor Bay's fantastic new DVD transfer of The House by the Cemetery does not offer an Italian language track with subtitling. What it does provide is 2.35:1 widescreen, anamorphically-enhanced video that solves the dull colours of the prior two EC releases while adding an extraordinary level of clarity for an Italian horror flick that turns twenty this year. There are no compression artifacts and black is black–although, as is typical of films this vintage, there is a lack of shadow detail. The print is exceedingly clean, with only the occasional hiccup here and again.

An even bigger surprise is the Dolby 2.0 surround audio, which makes exceptional use of the rear channel. Ominous creaks sneak up in the rear while dialogue and footsteps move distinctly from left to right; a really superb job of translating an old track to new technology and well worth the wait. (Anchor Bay's disc was originally scheduled for a February 2000 release.) Sorely missing from the Anchor Bay reissue, however, is the extended interview that Fulci recorded for the EC release, and the lack of any kind of commentary, à la Troma's Bloodsucking Freaks, from an exploitation scholar. (Fulci himself died in 1996 from diabetic shock.) Rounding out the disc are a side-splittingly funny American trailer and an Italian trailer that acts as a somewhat unfortunate montage of every gore moment from the movie. Welcome additions, as is a two-minute "stills" montage, but this is a lamentably sparse package. Still, for the quality of the film's transfer, The House by the Cemetery, one of three titles new this summer to Anchor Bay's Lucio Fulci Collection (The Black Cat and Manhattan Baby being the other two), is a nice addition to any giallo-phile's library.

87 minutes; Unrated; 2.35:1 (16×9-enhanced); English Dolby Surround; DVD-9; Region One; Anchor Bay