The Spirit
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Bedtime Stories
The Tale of Despereaux
The Day The Earth Stood Still
Delgo
The Librarian: Curse of the Judas Chalice
My Name Is Bruce
Let the Right One In
Twilight
April 20, 2007

The Mario Bava Collection: Vol. 1

Anchor Bay unmasks five masterpieces from director Mario Bava, the father of the Italian horror movie
The Mario Bava Box Set: Vol.1,
Includes: Black Sunday (The Mask of Satan); Black Sabbath (The Three Faces of Fear); The Girl Who Knew Too Much; The Knives of the Avenger; Kill, Baby... Kill!
Directed by Mario Bava
Starring John Saxon, Barbara Steele, Cameron Mitchell, Mark Damon, Boris Karloff and Letícia Román
Not rated
Anchor Bay Entertainment
MSRP: $49.98
By Michael Marano
This is a set of five movies directed by Mario Bava, considered by many the father of the Italian horror movie, whose influence can be seen in films running the gamut from Roman Polanski's The Tenant to Ridley Scott's Alien, from Sean Cunningham's Friday the 13th to Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ.
Perhaps the scariest thing in this set is the scope and depth of Bava knowledge ...
 
First up: Black Sunday, also known as The Mask of Satan (La maschera del demonio), Bava's debut as a director, about a long-dead witch (the unbearably sexy Barbara Steele, who can make being cold and covered with grave dust seem really hot) rising from her tomb to exact revenge on the community that killed her for her demonic extracurricular and excommunicable activities. This flick, with its really graphic spiked-mask-hammered-into-screaming-faces opening, was mercilessly sampled by Tim Burton when he filmed the Lisa-Marie-in-the-iron-maiden scene for Sleepy Hollow.

The Three Faces of Fear (I tre volti della paura), known as Black Sabbath to generations of Creature-Feature-watching kids in North America, is an anthology film of three stories hosted by Boris Karloff, about a woman terrorized by mysterious phone calls; a family in Eastern Europe terrorized by a "Wurdalak" (a vampire that feasts on the blood of those dearest to him); and a woman who learns the hard way that it's not a good idea to steal a ring from a medium who died during a séance. The rictus death mask of the medium in this segment is an iconic image among real horror fans.

The Girl Who Knew Too Much (La ragazza che sapeva troppo) is an oddly lighthearted example of the giallo (a distinctly Italian kind of murder mystery), while Knives of the Avenger (I coltelli del vendicatore) is a straightforward Viking revenge drama structured like a western, with Cameron Mitchell doing for throwing knives what Alan Ladd did for six-guns in Shane.

Kill, Baby ... Kill! (Operazione paura) is an amazingly twisted journey into psychological dysfunction and the supernatural, in which the warped mentality that creates the haunting is more frightening than the ghost itself. A young and handsome doctor (is there any other kind?) goes to a remote village (is there any other kind?) full of superstitious peasants (is there any other kind?) to perform an autopsy with nasty results (are there any other kind?). Guillermo del Toro freely admits stealing from this movie for The Devil's Backbone—and look for the iconic demon/ghost of this flick showing up in the Fellini segment of Spirits of the Dead and the aforementioned Last Temptation of Christ.

Still fresh after more than 40 years
With this set, you get three incredibly influential masterpieces (Black Sunday; Black Sabbath; Kill, Baby... Kill!), a very influential and very good movie (The Girl Who Knew Too Much) and an OK movie that Bava collectors will want to have (Knives of the Avenger).

Black Sunday is thought of by some as the first true Italian horror movie, which I suppose is arguable, as is any statement that anything is the first true example of a genre. What's not arguable (at least to legions of horror fans) is that it's a work of genius, full of atmosphere that will make your marrow crawl and innovative camerawork that still seems fresh almost half a century later. This set includes the European cut of Black Sunday and restores the original ultra-creepy Roberto Nicolosi score removed from the U.S. release.

Black Sabbath is also presented in its original European cut. This is not the version watched by tens of thousands of North American kids at two in the morning with the volume turned low while their parents slept. A daring-for-the-time lesbian subplot is restored that was removed from U.S. prints. The two supernatural segments in particular evoke a crushing sense of physical and spiritual cold. The use of color and shading, along with amazing sound design, give the feel of waking nightmare. On the downside, there is no inclusion of Karloff's extra introductions as a ghoulish-but-lovable Night Gallery-like host that were shot for the U.S. release, which were great fun and which showcased some of Bava's trademark camerawork.

Kill, Baby ... Kill! is a revelation in this new DVD release. Bava creates a sense of decay that you can gag on in this crumbling, isolated village built into a rocky hill of granite. Because the village is tiered into the hill, sort of like a broken-down Minas Tirith, nothing is level. The warped angles in almost every shot feel creepy in a way no other movie has captured.

The Girl Who Knew Too Much, also known as The Evil Eye, is really of as much interest to Dario Argento fans as it is to Bava fans (who are usually one and the same). Even though the movie has a jolly romantic subplot, as a story of a traveler to Rome (Letícia Román) uncertain of just what she sees when she witnesses a murder, you can see in it the seeds of Argento's The Bird With the Crystal Plumage, Deep Red and Four Flies on Grey Velvet.

As for Knives of the Avenger, well ... in comparison this movie certainly seems like the dud of the batch. It's a lesser Bava effort, but who doesn't like movies that feature Vikings throwing daggers the size of short swords into the hearts and throats of guys standing a football field away?

Perhaps the scariest thing in this set is the scope and depth of Bava knowledge shown by Tim Lucas, who provides commentary tracks for Black Sabbath, Black Sunday and The Girl Who Knew Too Much.

Despite one or two low points, no horror fan can afford not to have this set, for Black Sunday, Black Sabbath and Kill, Baby... Kill! alone.

Many years ago, as a kid watching Black Sabbath, I literally found myself standing on the chair out of which I had just jumped. Thanks, Mario! —Mike