BLOOD MANIA (1970) Tight sweater-donning Vicky (Maria de Aragon) is a nympho—a female character trait frequently found in low-budget horror movies of the time period—who’s plotting the murder of her ailing father so she can inherit daddy’s fortune. After attending to her bedridden father, Vicky tries to seduce the pool boy, who flees in terror after muttering, “I’ve heard of women like you!” Clearly, he’s not down with women’s lib. Through her manipulative ways, Vicky gets her father’s doctor (Peter Carpenter), who’s being blackmailed for performing backroom abortions, to cover up the murder. This is followed by a lengthy sex scene involving poppers and a bizarre, drug-infused dance. That sequence is plodding and boring, just like the rest of the movie.
DEVIL’S NIGHTMARE (1971) Seven tourists (representing the seven deadly sins) are stranded in the middle of nowhere until a haggard groundskeeper points them to the castle of Baron von Rhoneberg (Jean Servais)—a former Nazi who sacrificed his newborn daughter in order for the child to escape the family curse. Once inside the castle the tourists indulge in debauchery, with lesbianism high on the menu. At dinner, the Baron tells of the unsavory history of his family, which involves a 12th century ancestor who made a pact with Satan in exchange for wealth—the caveat being that the firstborn female of each family line will become a succubus. The current succubus arrives in the form of bombshell Erika Blanc, who seduces and murders each guest based on their sinful lifestyle: the gluttonous bus driver chokes on poisoned wine; a greedy woman is pulled into a gold sandpit; her lustful husband is decapitated after trying to bed one of the lesbians. A priest (Jacques Monseau) tries to stop the massacre by tricking the Devil into a deal only to end up a victim of his own naivety. A stylish and entertaining, if not wholly original, European shocker.
THE SWEET HOUSE OF HORRORS (1989) One of Lucio Fulci’s last films before his death in 1996, Sweet House of Horrors is unfortunately the Italian filmmaker at a creative low. The brutal murder of mom and dad sends their children into the care of an aunt and uncle, who also end up inheriting the deceased couple’s villa and murder site. The place’s mausoleum-like vibes don’t gel with the aunt, who immediately puts the house up for sale and angers the ghosts of the slain couple who haunt the dwelling in order to claim revenge against their killer—in this case, it’s the groundskeeper who might as well have “murderer” tattooed on his forehead. When the spirits aren’t creating mischief, they appear to the children in the form of free-floating flames in what is possibly one of the worst representations of death any of these movies have ever forced upon us. The kids are annoying (and obviously dubbed by adult actors), the story incoherent, and, to add insult to injury, the special effects are inadequate and sloppy.
