Terror no Cemitério

After receiving a letter from spiritualist Jeronimus Hauff, requesting to discuss the details of his will, lawyer Albert Kovac (Walter Brandi) arrives at the Hauff villa only to discover that his client has been dead for almost a year. Invited to stay the night by Hauff's widow Cleo (enigmatic Italian horror legend Barbara Steele), a perplexed Albert begins to investigate the mysterious circumstances behind his client's death, a series of recent grisly murders leading him to realise the full terrifying extent of Hauff's powers: the ability to call on the spirits of long-dead 'plague spreaders' to help him exact revenge on those who betrayed him.

Stephen King once described Sam Raimi's gruelling 1981 splatter-fest The Evil Dead as 'ferociously original'. Ferocious it most certainly is, but having just seen Massimo Pupillo's stylish Gothic horror Terror Creatures From The Grave (1965) I'm no longer so sure about original, for as I watched, I couldn't help but repeatedly draw parallels between it and Raimi's classic video nasty.

Both films feature a group of people in a creepy abode who fall victim to evil spirits from beyond the grave; both films have someone listening to an old recording detailing the demonic powers at work; both films make use of a lullaby to add extra creepiness; both films have a character who wanders out into some creepy woods only to turn up at the door later covered in wounds; both films have clocks that stop and start at will; and both films feature a demonic POV tracking shot that ends up in an extreme close up of a character's terrified face. Hell, Terror Creatures even has a couple of scenes of nasty gore (albeit in black and white).

However, spotting these similarities hasn't made me think any less of Raimi: we all have to get our inspiration from somewhere, and The Evil Dead remains a firm favourite of mine, a superb piece of film-making that never fails to entertain. If anything, my love for Raimi's film has helped me to appreciate this particular Euro-horror more than I otherwise might have, every comparison driving home just how inventive and visually arresting Pupillo's film really is, despite its sometimes confusing story, admittedly creaky Gothic clichés, and undeniably weak denouement.