El foso de las serpientes

The Castle of the Walking Dead is the first film that I have seen directed by Harold Reinl, the filmmaker who helmed numerous 'krimi' (German-made horror-thrillers based on the works of Edgar Wallace, precursors of the Italian 'giallo'), several entries in the 'Dr. Mabuse' series, and most of the 'Karl May' westerns. If this movie is any indication, Reinl is a major talent ripe for rediscovery by fans looking for a cinema that revels in flamboyant visual pyrotechnics, rather than in quotidian literacy and a politically correct 'sensibility'. Reinl may not be Mario Bava, but his extravagantly baroque camera style is nonetheless extremely impressive. The Castle of the Walking Dead is relentlessly designed; each shot has been carefully thought out and executed to its fullest illustrative potential. Set decoration, lighting, and camera movement are all carefully integrated; there is almost no shot that is arbitrary, accidental, or unnecessary. Reinl is an obvious practitioner of the great expressionist tradition in cinema, in which the significance of each shot is determined by the director's architectural and illuminative insight, in opposition to current film dogma, in which the subordinate elements of the shot (the acting, the script) dictates its formal structure. Significantly, only Christopher Lee, a performer who, like Lugosi, his predecessor, understands the physically revelatory importance of the actor to the overall impact of a film, is able to rise to the director's challenge. The Castle of the Walking Dead is ultimately derivative, badly acted, and pointless, but, for fans of cinema, can be a joy to behold. I should note that the DVD that I watched was faded and crappy; one can only hope that in the future the rest of Reinl's output will be rediscovered and restored with the loving care that it deserves. I can't wait.