American Horror Project

One of the great joys of being a horror fan is that even the most marginal titles offer up a sense of time and place that few other film genres can offer. They not only reflect the cinematic sensibilities of the era in which they were made, but also its social fears and anxieties filtered through a sieve of pop culture nightmares. The American Horror Project collects three such under-the-radar films and showcases them with all the pomp and circumstance usually reserved for legit classics like Texas Chainsaw or Night of the Living Dead.

Bear in mind, there are only so many undiscovered horror gems left to polish. In fact, each film in the set stretches the definition of horror to the breaking point; more than a few fans will find them too artistic, inept or obtuse for their tastes altogether. But for those with an open mind - and an adventurous film collection - Arrow Video's limited edition will expand your horror horizons.

Malatesta's Carnival of Blood (1973) is certainly the most difficult of the group to put into words. Shot on a shoestring in a run-down Philadelphia fairground, director Christopher Speeth blends everything from performance art to kitschy set design to cannibal gore effects. The story, what there is of one, centers around nocturnal ghouls who emerge from secret caverns beneath the carnival at the bidding of their mysterious Master. Malatesta's best moments are of the experimental sort, including the use of rear-projection, an illogical narrative and a discordantly memorable soundtrack. Whether all of it was intentional or just regional schlock filmmaking at its worst is up for debate.

The Witch Who Came from the Sea (1976) is a much more confident piece of filmmaking that winds up being just as challenging. A victim of repressed childhood sexual abuse, Molly (Millie Perkins) begins to disassociate from real world and take out her vengeance on male celebrities, castrating them in a dream state that leaves the viewer questioning where fantasy ends and reality begins. While sharing some similarities with the rape/revenge cycle of the time, Witch is much more complicated in the deconstruction its main character, brilliantly played by Perkins who shares a few of the same qualities as Norman Bates. Director Matt Cimber adeptly switches channels between Molly's fragile mental state, her unintended victims, and the tragic abuse that brought them all together. Watch for some excellent early anamorphic cinematography by Dean Cundey (Halloween, Jurassic Park).

A mentally unbalanced mother's attempt to steal back the daughter she gave up for adoption - even from beyond the grave - is the story behind The Premonition (1976), which had the widest release of all the films presented here. Richard Lynch (The Sword and the Sorcerer) is a familiar face, playing a co-conspirator in the kidnapping that goes sour, resulting in little Janie missing while her parents debate over the use of paranormal methods to help track her down. There are echoes of the spiritual debate from Audrey Rose, but here director Robert Allen Schnitzer has no qualms about trying to convince his audience there are untapped forces at work in the universe. And his film manages to be eerie and technically informative at the same time.

Limited to 3000 copies, Arrow has made sure the set is worth your while. While none of the transfers are spotless (Witch had no surviving negative to pull from), they're all another example of the company's top-notch 2K work, sharing a cool '70s faded phone-filter appeal. And the extras, as you might expect are extensive, but not overwhelming (see sidebar for details) with the extra short films and screenplays of particular note, along with a 60-page booklet and newly commissioned artwork.