Tombs of the Blind Dead

For the uninitiated, Amando de Ossorio’s Blind Dead films are one of the tentpoles of the Euro-horror genre.  But they can be an acquired taste.  While one comes to expect and embrace the flaws inherent in low-budget exploitation, Ossorio’s mummified creations are so stiff and skeletally posed it requires nearly monumental suspension of disbelief to allow oneself to be frightened. Yet there’s a shambling atmosphere of nihilistic dread that overcomes the film’s baser instincts.

When a romantic triangle goes wrong, Virginia hops off a passenger train and winds up spending the night in the abandoned medieval town of Berzano, the former stronghold of a group of satanic worshipping Knights Templar.  Her presence awakens their ancient bloodlust, tracking their victims by sound to compensate for their sightless skulls.  Feeling guilty, her friends return to the scene of the crime but wind up facing the same threat from the undead horde.

 

The film’s psychological impact is almost inexplicable, although half the credit should go to the eerily effective score. Lifting his look from the work of Mario Bava, de Ossorio splashes the frame with neon reds and blues, enhanced by clever camera angles and memorably macabre images (a frog hopping through a pool of blood, a false eye inserted behind a dummy’s head).  The characters are almost mannequins themselves, posed for death in a variety of sadistic ways and going through the motions of exploitation 101 (lesbian and rape scenes are always a Euro-horror requirement).

 

Often as slow-moving as its zombified central characters, Tombs draws the viewer in to its alternate dimension, relishing the long dialogue-free exploration of the Templar’s dusty abode or their slow-motion cavalry charge through the Portuguese countryside.  It also incorporates a vampiric element the other films in the series chose to ignore.  De Ossorio lifts from Night of the Living Dead for his apocalyptic conclusion, but his creature creations remain singularly unique in the annals of horror mythology.

 

Released a few times on DVD, including a coffin shaped collector’s box that contained all four film via Blue Underground, Synapse Films steps up a to deliver a standard version of their two-disc Blu-ray special edition that includes both the uncut Spanish version and U.S. theatrical cut.  The 2K transfer adds a nice bit of color and contrast but retains the original grain structure.  Extras include three separate audio commentaries, alternate opening sequence (which turned the Knights into time-traveling ape men!), music video, still gallery and feature length documentary exploring the history of the Spanish zombie film.

 

 

 

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