DELLAMORTE DELLAMORE

(A.k.a. CEMETERY MAN; MY FIANCEE IS A ZOMBIE)

Francesco (Rupert Everett) acts as caretaker of Buffalora’s graveyard, assisted by his simpleton pal Gnaghi (Francois Hadji-Lazaro). This humdrum existence requires Francesco to live a lonely life on the cemetery grounds, casually shooting "returners" – the buried are re-animated after seven days in the Earth – in-between smoking copiously and chatting on the telephone with mate, postal worker Franco (Anton Alexander).

Tired with his lot and resistant to Franco’s suggestions that he should reveal the cemetery’s secret to the Mayor in a bid for better pay, Francesco has disdain for the living and indifference toward the living dead. Until, that is, he meets the stunning She (Anna Falchi): "the most beautiful living woman I’ve ever seen".

First glimpsing her drenched in black at a funeral, Francesco initially puts his foot in it when offering his condolences for the loss of her father. The old bloke picture on the fresh gravestone, she curtly informs him, was actually her husband – and he was a great lover, to boot.

Still, as she returns to the grave to leave flowers, an infatuated Francesco persists and eventually winds up bedding her in an ossuary. True love is never without its complications though, and Francesco finds his to be on both sides of this mortal coil …

Michele Soavi rose in the Italian horror industry during the 1980s, starting with small acting roles in the likes of Aristide Massaccesi’s ABSURD and Lucio Fulci’s CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD before gaining influence behind the cameras acting as assistant director on Dario Argento’s key films of the era. His documentary "Dario Argento’s World Of Horror" remains a favourite from the days of imported VHS.

Come 1987, Massaccesi recognised Soavi’s potential and financed his feature directorial debut STAGE FRIGHT. It was a hit in Europe and garnered a healthy following both in the UK and the US. Terry Gilliam was so enamoured with its look that he hired the director as cinematographer on his Hollywood production, THE ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN.

It seemed as though Soavi could do no wrong. Then the cracks started to appear. The arse fell out of the Italian scene, budgets being significantly slashed and distributors becoming preoccupied with meeting the censorial restrictions of potential lucrative territories. Soavi’s subsequent films, THE CHURCH and THE SECT, suffered from reduced production values and a distinct lack of bite. Argento produced both films while his own directorial career suffered at the box office. Massaccesi drifted into zero-budget erotica while Fulci succumbed to ill health; other bastions of the field such as Sergio Martino and Ruggero Deodato seemed no longer capable of hitting the creative heights of their 1970s and 1980s genre hits.

Then, in 1993 when everybody was least expecting it, Soavi bounced back with this weird, camp and visually astounding love letter to the Gothic fantasies of classic Italian fare.

Based on Tiziano Scalvi’s popular ‘fumetta’ (pulp comic book serial) "Dylan Dog", the film stays true to both its singular look and offbeat sense of humour.

On the one hand, each and every scene has been meticulously crafted, perfectly conveying a sense of existential wonder and lending events an effortlessly ethereal edge. Whether it be the superbly composed sequences of the dead vacating their graves, or something as simple as Gnaghi sweeping leaves in the wind, the look of Soavi’s film is imaginative and gorgeously original. Occasionally surreal too and always opulent, the film is a masterpiece of atmospheric fantasy that owes as much to vintage Mario Bava as it does the graphic novel source.

The humour, however, is at times too wacky and self-conscious for its own good. Quite what gags such as Gnaghi spewing over the Mayor’s daughter are supposed to add is beyond me. I understand that much of this is true to Scalvi’s intentions (Soavi added 30% of the jokes) but it doesn’t stop the balance between the sumptuously macabre and comically slapstick from being somewhat off. Ricardo Biseo and Manuel De Sica’s score doesn’t always help matters, its forays into sprightly fluff signposting the comedy in unintentionally patronising fashion.

My other gripe with the film is its lack of cohesion, particularly during its second half. This is something Soavi acknowledges – and I suppose it was always destined to get a tad messy when you’re trying to fit musings on the correlation between sex and death, religion, identity shifting and even the meaning of life into your 104-minute running time.

But the good far outweighs the not so good.

Perhaps the most bizarrely cast zombie film ever, DELLAMORTE DELLAMORE benefits from a fine understated performance from a buff Everett (first choice for the role, he being the inspiration for the original "Dylan Dog" character’s look) while Falchi – here in three roles – is hauntingly beautiful.

The zombie FX (Sergio Stivaletti), cinematography (Mauro Marchetti) and production design (Massimo Antonello Geleng) are flawless.

Get past the sometimes heavy-handed humour and erratic storytelling, then, and Soavi’s film – his best to date – is in actual fact one of the most successfully executed, complete classic horror films in recent memory.

Shameless Entertainment give Soavi’s masterwork its overdue UK DVD debut, and I’m pleased to report the disc is a very good one.

The film, fully uncut, is presented in its original aspect ratio and enhanced for 16x9 television sets. There have been numerous releases of the film on carrying formats over the years and often they look different in terms of colour. Whether this is the most authentic representation of the film yet is something I can’t claim to be sure of, but I can say the film looks awfully good here. Brighter, sharper and more detailed than Anchor Bay’s US DVD release of a few years back, the colour here does possess a more washed out, restrained hue. It doesn’t harm the texture of the presentation any, looking less warm but arguably more natural.

Blacks are good, contrast is strong and there is very little in terms of noise. I haven’t seen any of the blu-ray transfers of the film to compare this (Italian sourced) print against, but overall I was happy with the look and feel of Shameless’ transfer.

2.0 audio comes in English and Italian. I chose to view the film in English and the track proffered was a good clean one. A quick sample of the Italian track hinted at a slightly quieter but no less clean playback. Optional English subtitles are easy to read, but are best used with the Italian language track only, as they are a translation of that dialogue and it differs slightly to the English text.

The disc opens with trailers for FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET and CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST. From there, a static main menu page leads to a static scene-selection menu allowing access to the film via 12 chapters.

Extras begin with a detailed, highly listenable audio commentary track from Soavi and screenwriter Gianni Romoli. In Italian with English subtitles, this finds the pair discussing all aspects of the production in a fluent, laidback manner. Soavi is in good humour as he remarks upon how surprisingly close to the source material his film is, and highlights finer points such as how certain compositions emulate classical paintings, the mythical elements incorporated into the often jaw-dropping visuals and so on.

The film’s original 2-minute Italian trailer is shown in windowboxed format and benefits from English subtitles.

A 1-minute gallery offers 14 stills from Alan Jones’ personal archive. This incorporates photos, artwork and even a couple of original screenplay page samples.

Finally we get trailers for twelve other Shameless titles: VENUS IN FURS, THE FRIGHTENED WOMAN, WHO SAW HER DIE?, THE DESIGNATED VICTIM, OASIS OF FEAR, BABA YAGA, FOOTPRINTS, SATAN’S BABY DOLL, THE BEAST IN SPACE, THE STRANGE VICE OF MRS WARDH, ALMOST HUMAN and DON’T TORTURE A DUCKLING.

With a visual sense of Gothic horror which is virtually second to none, a sense of the macabre and surreal, and an A-List actor revelling in the most gloriously absurd role of his career (one that that producers wanted Matt Dillon for; one that Everett loved so much, he wanted Soavi to remake with him for American audiences in the late 90s), any misgivings about the film’s tone can easily be overlooked. DELLAMORTE DELLAMORE is a must-see for lovers of Italian genre fare, and cinema hasn’t produced a zombie film as good as it since.

Highly recommended.

Review by Stuart Willis