For years now I was aware that this was regarded as one of the best Italian horror films of the 60's. Having finally seen it, I understand the praise but would go further and say that it is one of the definitive examples of gothic horror period. Like the vast majority of films in this category, its story is not the point and is purely a means to an end. A journalist accepts a bet to spend the night in a haunted mansion; when there, this stereotypical sceptic encounters a series of ghostly goings on which grow increasingly disturbing as the night progresses.
Like I say, story isn't what makes a gothic horror tick - its atmosphere. And this film sure has lashings of that, including an arrival scene where the protagonist explores the environs of the mansion and its grounds - this scene is so very bold because it is not afraid to spend a dozen minutes looking around, with no dialogue and no 'action' so to speak. It's all about gothic imagery, with elegant black and white cinematography which captures the cobwebby décor and architecture in its full shadowy splendour. This is a good indicator of the film as a whole, as this is a beautiful looking movie, which is accentuated significantly further with the presence of its two stellar leading ladies - Barbara Steele and Margrete Robsahm. The former is quite rightly regarded as the greatest icon of Italian gothic and here she is utilised splendidly, while the latter is much less known but is stunning here as an icy seductress. Her character Julia has lesbian designs on Steele's Elisabeth, which was a pretty bold angle for an early 60's film to run with and there is an overall strong sense of eroticism embedded in this one generally. The ghostly entities encountered in the house were previously doomed by a love triangle which resulted in multiple murder; these events are re-enacted once a year on All Souls Night, with the unwitting help of the poor sap who enters the house that evening.
The director of this one was Antonio Margheriti, who was something of a jack-of-all-trades who made films in most of the genres of Italian popular cinema. I think this may very well be his masterwork though. Interestingly enough, the director originally allocated this one was Sergio Corbucci who is now famous for classic spaghetti westerns like Django and The Great Silence; in this one, he is drafted in to direct one solitary scene, where Elisabeth's muscle-bound lover Herbert bursts into her bedroom and stabs her to death. Overall, this is upper-level stuff as far as gothic horror goes and indicates once again, that these types of films work so much better in black and white.
