hell of the living dead

Oh, Blue Underground, where have you been?! There are only a handful of independent home video companies that have weathered the digital dust-up of the last few years. And the very idea of collecting movies seems to be going the way of vinyl, consisting of either die-hard film aficionados or newly converted hipsters who snatch up collectible covers and limited editions with a gleeful giddiness that rivals the laserdisc era. Blue Underground was one of the first to bring Italian horror obscurities to the masses, but things had gotten pretty quite for a while there. So the blood-soaked Blu-ray double feature Hell of the Living Dead and Rats: Night of Terror is like a siren call to those who seek out bad cinema with the best presentation possible.

Although both films credit director Vincent Dawn, the man behind the camera is actually Bruno Mattei, the Italian filmmaker also responsible for Women’s Prison Massacre and a slew of other genre knock-offs. His pseudonym was supposedly chosen in honor of Romero’s Dawn of the Dead, a film that Hell of the Living Dead wears like a cheap suit, starting with lifted music cues from its signature Goblin soundtrack.

A gas leak in New Guinea turns all the natives into undead zombie flesh-eaters, trapping a commando team and tag-along news reporters in a shuffling, tropical nightmare. There’s some splatter, some guts and a nice pair of boobs, but Hell of the Living Dead is more amusing for what it gets wrong than what it gets right, most notably the overuse of slow-motion nature footage that pads the film to a ridiculous degree. Even most of the scenes of native life are lifted piecemeal from hand-me-down documentary footage, clumsily cut into the action.

Yet that only enhances the cut-rate entertainment value. Mattei’s film is simply a collection of zombie attacks edited into the semblance of a movie, combining story elements of Dawn and Lucio Fulci’s Zombie with the unapologetic goal of delivering more of the same for a quarter of the budget.

Rats: Night of Terror is equally silly but more ambitious. Set in post-apocalyptic wasteland (made up of one deserted city street), a rough-and-tumble gang of Mad Max-style survivors stumbles upon a jackpot of stockpiled supplies in an abandoned scientific facility. But the horde is protected by a swarm of man-eating rats who’ve developed an above-average intellect…and a taste for human flesh.

This Italian genre mash-up has the same sort of appeal as the hair-metal bands of the era: shrieky, shallow, melodramatic, and nothing but a good time. Each gang member earns himself or herself a memorable death scene, usually preceded by a waterfall of vermin pouring down from above. Even if the same 20 rats seem to be recirculating in each scene, Mattei shows some craftsmanship in executing the futuristic story all the way up to an unforgettable surprise ending.

Neither film is meant for the masses. This is a double-feature meant for folks who search out only the best of the bad. And Blue Underground delivers a visual presentation that rivals your highest expectations. Sourced from original, uncut negatives, the screen looks so clean it squeaks…or maybe that just the rats. Plus a collection of extras (interviews with Mattei and the cast) that collectors will love adding to the vault.