VENGEANCE OF THE ZOMBIES

From the beautifully decadent beginning of tomb-robbers setting free the shambling undead to the radiant presence of the seductive if believably depicted Elvira, Vengeance of the Zombies is an unapologetic Gothic, seeped in mood and the lechery of age, evoking both fear and awe -- a much harder sensation to arouse. It accomplishes all this by shrewdly interweaving decadent and joyfully exploitative sexuality with disconcertingly authentic moments of occultism in a story that says even more than its mist-shrouded images suggest. The film is directed by Leon Klimovsky, a sadly underappreciated filmmaker whose career lent grace and ambience to such old worlde creatures as the vampire and werewolf. In this otherworldly fable, the director forged a story of greed, lust, and occult temptation, modernizing traditional supernatural symbols/characterizations with a stylistic emphasis on eroticism and violence. Of course it was Naschy's screenplay that made this possible, and one can easily see in its other-worldly cocktail of brutality, zombies, and mysticism why the author states "I must have been under the effects of hashish or, like Bram Stoker, I'd had one hell of a nightmare" (Memoirs of a Wolfman, Midnight Marquee Press, 2000). Similar to other Klimovsky's masterworks, such as The Werewolf's Shadow and Vampire's Night Orgy, this tragedy -- set in what feels a timeless world even though it occurs in the twentieth century -- occurs more firmly in a surrealistic dream-world of expressionistic fantasy than in the naturalistic context which is so often favored in the genre. This atmosphere is at least partially the result of Kilmovky's penchant for lush, mist-laden nightmare worlds of gloom, where the physical appearances of things most often mirror the internal fears and fantasies of characters. BCI/Deimos brings La Rebelion De Las Muertas to US DVD for the first time complete and uncut. Its quality of presentation and wealth of extra material mirrors the quality of their accompanying release The Night of the Werewolf.

No stranger to traditional gothic imagery and supernatural themes, Naschy proved himself the ideal character actor to make Klimovsky's visual fetishistic obsessions a reality. The director's stealthy camera movements are the perfect accompaniments for Naschy's larger-than-life performances, and perhaps the internal turmoil and tragedies of the actor/writer provided something of the raw dark energy of the production. Naschy's performances as a Hindu mystic, his evil scarred brother, and as Old Scratch himself (in a dream sequence) are fresh and invigorative, falling somewhere between the archetypal and eccentric. Whereas less talented thespians would have probably botched such roles, Naschy earnestness and talent lends even his cheesiest over-acting a sense of authenticity. Behind the camera Klimovsky evokes pure physical shock, combining "Boo!" moments and true dramatic suspense. He allows the narrative to set up moments where viewers are granted just enough information to allow them to guess what is about to happen . . . before cutting away to other scenes or, more admirably, asking the audience to help make meaning from amongst fragmented scenes.

In a plot concerned equally with character and sensationalism, Klimovsky pours on the mood amidst psychological reactions to conventional supernatural underpinnings. Deteriorating structures and a mysterious atmosphere externalize the decadence and confusion, terror and hatred of character's corrupt natures, while the plush if fading luxury of interior designs embody their carnality. Beginning with a nod to Universal's Frankenstein vs. the Wolfman, grave robbers enter a crypt to steal jewellery from a recently deceased woman. When the crypt door groans closed, a cloaked figure appears with a wax figurine, reciting a voodoo incantation to raise the dead. In fine funeral fashion the corpse of the woman rises . . . From here on out we focus primarily on Krishna, the Guru played by Naschy. He and his cult engulf willing believer Elvira -- a sympathetic if moronic young lady -- and her sceptical friend into a world of menace and intrigue. After finding herself attacked by a zombie, Elvira accompanies the leering Krishna to his isolated private dwelling where she suffers nightmares of sacrifice and Satanic worship. In dreams she is the focus of seductive yet terrifying black masses led by a horned (and horny) satyr. Naschy even manages to throw a sub-plot of racial tension and historical accuracy into this monster mash, providing justification for the nasty murders. Merging a traditional supernatural plot with conventions of the giallo, including an increasingly graphic emphasis on violence and themes focusing on the mystery of identity, Vengeance of the Zombies is a bloody good hybrid of flesh, fanaticism, and fear.

Appealing to devotees of bare skin and bloodshed as well as those preferring frightening atmosphere, this release from BCI is cause for Naschy and Klimovsky fans to rejoice. Dark, disturbing, and campy, the movie benefits from solid craftsmanship, haunting colors, and a story that should be admired for both its audacity and ability to merge various genres. Combining the walking dead with sinister occult practices admirably researched, sexual enticement with violent viscera, Vengeance of the Zombies is a satisfying chapter in Spanish horror treated with love and authority. Incredible energy pours through cast and crew. Inner flaws of character logic, story gaps, and unbelievable occurrences, while hampering believability, do little damage to a film that is clearly more concerned with -- and therefore to be judged -- not by the sordid, banal dictates of everyday logic but the secret geographies of nightmare -- the realms of the illogical.

Released in the US as Walk of the Dead, this edition of Vengeance of the Zombies is the first official DVD release to include all the original scenes uncut. The transfer from original vault materials features the film in its original aspect ratio of 1.33:1 (full-screen). The print is rich, clear, and evocative, featuring bright colors and bold images. Still, unlike The Night of the Werewolf, a bit of grain is present throughout, as is some scratching. Fortunately, neither is very distracting, and one can still tell the length to which the feature was cleaned up. Audio is featured in both Castilian with English Subs and dubbed English versions, with the former offering the most authentic viewing experience. As for quality, both tracks are clear with a minimum of background noise.

Extras are comprehensive, lending authority and subtext to the feature, not simply thrown together as in so many other DVD releases. There is a sense of history and biography here, from the personal Introduction from Naschy, to the wonderful Stills and Photo Gallery, which is a paradise of rarely glimpsed Naschy memorabilia. The US Theatrical Trailer is cheesy good fun, while the addition of Alternate Clothed Versions of the nude scenes in the original cut speak of a more serious sense of political oppression (something we see a bit more every day in the Western world). Again, the Liner Notes by Lipinski, are juicy and informative, particularly those describing Naschy's encounter with an occultist who believed he had been sent messages from the film! Of a particularly gruesome note is the story of Naschy's glimpse of a female corpse at a ruined vault with his uncle, and how his personal and professional life converged to influence the story for the film. Overall, this is a feast of carnage and carnality, destined to become a cult classic all over again!

Review by William P. Simmons