THE BEYOND

(A.k.a. L'ALDILA; SEVEN DOORS OF DEATH)

In a glorious sepia prologue set in 1927, a group of irate villagers row across a lake towards a Louisiana hotel at night. They race up the stairs and barge into a room where Sweik - a supposed warlock - is busy finishing his painting depicting Hell.

Sweik's work will have to wait: his flesh is torn open by chains before he's dragged to the hotel's cellar for more abuse. Then the overkill arrives: Sweik is crucified to the wall with rusty nails and lime is poured over him, melting his face. We're in Lucio Fulci territory!

Cut to Emily (Cinzea Monreale) reading a passage from the book of Eibon. It warns that whoever opens the hotel in future will effectively open one of the seven gateways to Hell … and then we're into those beautiful familiar opening titles, flames licking the screen as Fabio Frizzi's sublime score pulses away.

The plot - what there is of one - begins proper in 1981 when the hotel is inherited by out-of-towner Liza (Catherine MacColl), who immediately sets about renovating the place. As soon as work on the building begins, the supernatural starts to occur: the bell for Sweik's old room keeps ringing; blind Emily appears and disappears to people with haunting regularity; workers are injured in bizarre accidents …

But the main catalyst for the events that form the bulk of the film is the demise of plumber Joe. His death is pure Fulci, and leads to the arrival of local doctor John (David Warbeck), a showstopping morgue set-piece that first introduces both zombies and the concept of Fulci's Hell (blindness) to the story, and maid Martha's own sticky end, when Joe's reanimated corpse catches up with her in the hotel basement.

Wow. THE BEYOND retains all of its visual wonder. It's a classic Italian horror film, taking on a feeble plot and petite budget then transforming them into something strikingly ethereal. And brutal.

The gore is constant throughout THE BEYOND. You never have to wait more than 5 minutes for highlights such as flesh-eating tarantula attacks, a guide dog that turns savage on it's owner, an infamous close-range bullet shot to a little girl's face and a vat of acid poured over an unconscious victim. Even the lesser moments of grue are memorable: genre veteran Al Cliver gets a faceful of broken glass; the numerous gunshots to the heads of the living dead.

But if there's any one part of the body Fulci seems particularly obsessed with, it's the eyes. From Joe's gouged eyes to the spike that forces it's way through the back of Martha's head and pops out the other end with her orb stuck to it, Fulci spares no mercy on our precious goggles. Of course, there are also the standard close-ups and zoom-ins to characters' eyes - an annoying trait Fulci developed through the early 80s period of his career. But most of all, the aforementioned concept that true Hell is blindness - that the worst fate would be to lose one's sight - is the most telling aspect of the film. Perhaps the fear of blindness is an obvious one for someone whose career was in filmmaking, but I dare say it's never been addressed so directly on screen before or since.

Ironically then, THE BEYOND is Fulci's most visually satisfying horror film. It's filled with moments of aesthetic beauty. The closing hospital scenes are eerie and surreal in equal measures, while the Gothic smoke-filled atmospherics of earlier scenes should silence anyone who dismissed Fulci as a hack.

This is Fulci unburdened by logic or continuity (I always remember Starburst's review of the film's theatrical release, describing it as an "absolute" film - that is, intended as a purely cinematic sensation, unconcerned with conventional narrative), free to conjure up scenes of pure nightmare logic. The best of these is arguably the very final scene, which still ranks as one of the greatest horror film endings ever …

This is cinefatastique. And it's great to see Grindhouse's Special Edition DVD back in stores … with additional material, to boot.

First off, the picture quality appears to be slightly better than the old Anchor Bay/Grindhouse edition. Grain is still evident on the actual film print, but there is a sharpness and brightness that was lacking in the older transfer. It could be that they are the same transfer, and I've changed DVD players since then - but this looked superior! And of course, the anamorphic 2.35:1 transfer ensures you get to appreciate the film in its original aspect ratio (a must).

Audio is presented in English mono, 2.0 and 5.1 mixes. There's also an option of watching the film in Italian mono, with optional English subtitles.

A nice animated menu (same as the earlier release) gives way to a static scene-selection menu allowing access to the main feature via 53 chapters.

Then we get a plethora of extras, most of which admittedly have already been seen on the deleted Anchor Bay/Grindhouse release. These include:

The excellent audio commentary track from Warbeck and MacColl. Recorded not long before Warbeck's death, it's an upbeat chat often filled with MacColl laughing in reaction to Warbeck's playfully derisive comments. They both speak fondly of Fulci and the crazy crew, and share an element of amazement regarding the film's enduring reputation. Warbeck often slurs, presumably due to medication he was on at the time, but the pair remain coherent and in good spirits throughout. There explanation of how the zombies were made to stay still in Hell is priceless …

Elsewhere, other extras previously seen include the pre-credits sequence in colour (a softer, grainier affair offered in German and English audio options); 90-odd seconds of footage of Fulci on set; German, International and US re-release trailers; a Necrophagia music video directed by Jim Van Beber; a generous stills gallery of lobby cards, posters etc. There's also a couple of nifty Easter Eggs, including the opening credits for the pan-and-scan US release of the film, baring the title "Seven Doors Of Death". Note the crappy score and "directed by Louis Fuller" credit!

But now there's even more!

24 minutes of new interviews follows, taking in no less than 13 members of the cast and crew. Screenwriter Dardana Sacchetti is first, followed by MacColl, cinematographer Sergio Salvati … all of these new interviews are presented in full-frame and in their original language (burned-in English subtitles are applied for those who speak Italian only).

Although some of the interviews are brief affairs, they do undeniably add further insight into the film's making. And, again, not a bad word is said against Fulci. Great stuff.

A 1-minute optional introduction to the film from MacColl is another new addition, offering a nice if trite touch to an already impressive disc.

Finally, the packaging itself is of the usual Grindhouse high standards. The sleeve contains an illustrated Fulci biography on it's reverse, while the inner booklet reproduces Chas Balun's lines from the sleeve reverse of the AB release, and folds out into a lovely colour reproduction of the original Japanese poster artwork.

THE BEYOND exists as an extraordinary cinematic ode to nightmares running riot. What it lacks in logic it makes up for in sheer visual excess. And this sublime DVD package is the ideal way to fall in live with the film all over again.

Review by Stuart Willis