BLACK SUNDAY (1960)

A.K.A.: La Maschera Del Domonio / The Mask of Satan / Revenge of the Vampire

Country: Italy

Genre(s): Horror

Director: Mario Bava

Cast: Barbara Steele / John Richardson / Andrea Checchi

Plot

Executed as a witch in the seventeenth century, the female vampire Asa returns to life two hundred years later to wreak vengeance on her royal descendants.

What I Liked

“Black Sunday” is in many ways a triumph of style over substance.  The story itself isn’t particularly creative, the script even less so, and the acting is mediocre at best.  Yet this movie is regarded today as a landmark of the horror genre.  That reputation is in large part due to the talents of director Mario Bava, who made his official directorial debut on “Black Sunday” (though he had in fact done some uncredited directorial work on a couple of films in 1959).  Prior to this project, Bava had made his reputation as a respected cinematographer and it is eye for visual flair that truly allows “Black Sunday” to triumph over its other faults.  The camera is often floating and prowling through a scene like an unseen ghost, the movement keeping the viewer’s eyes entertained while also adding an eeriness to the mood of several scenes.  The movie’s gothic setting may not be anything original, but the filmmakers overcame a modest budget to bring a sumptuous darkness to the film, particularly on the exterior landscapes and forest scenes.

Speaking of sumptuous, Bava’s accomplishments are nearly overshadowed by strange eroticism of lead actress Barbara Steele.  With her raven hair, cat-like eyes, and curvaceous physique, the twenty-two-year-old Steele is easily the most memorable aspect of the film.  She makes the most of her first starring role (really dual roles) by turning the relatively one-dimensional villainous Asa into the focal point of the film’s sex appeal, even if she less convincing as the vampire’s virginal descendant Katia.

Though traditional in plot, “Black Sunday” proved influential on the changes to come in the horror genre.  First of all, Steele’s presence made the film about as sexy as horror got in those days, a dynamic that would be increasingly explore in the years to come.  Also, the films emphasis on gothic themes harkened back to the classic Universal pictures of the 1930s and 1940s, such as “Dracula” and “The Wolf Man.”  Though hardly new ground, one imagines the film's success at mining these classic elements paved the way for the plethora of B-movies to come over the next decade from filmmakers like Roger Corman (“The Pit and the Pendulum” and “The Raven, for example). Most importantly, the film’s explicit gore led it to become one of the most censored movies of the era.  The torture devices, shooting blood, and melting faces will seem quaint to the twenty-first century viewer, but in 1960, were deemed too much for audiences in America to handle; the production company voluntarily cut out its more gruesome scenes.  In Britain the film was completely banned for years.  In hindsight, “Black Sunday” can be seen as paving the way for the more violent horror to come in the 1960s and beyond, for better or worse.

What I Didn’t Like

Despite what I said above about Bava’s making the most of a modest budget through production values, there are several moments where a limited budget was clearly a detriment.  Early in the film, a man is attacked by a giant bat, which we see mostly as a shadow on the wall, presumably because the filmmaker’s couldn’t afford a convincing effect.  As the attack is meant as a gratuitous thrill and has no bearing on the plot itself, one wonders why the filmmakers chose to keep the scene in or didn’t chose to go with a different, more affordable scare.

Most disappointing of course are the limitations of the story and script, also mentioned above.  There is really nothing about the plot or dialogue that is the least bit compelling.  Without Bava and Steele as participants, “Black Sunday” would have been forgotten years ago.

Most Memorable Scene

The film’s notoriously graphic opening scene, where Asa is condemned to death by her brother back in the 1600s is without a doubt the most infamous moment of the film.  Not just the film’s director, but the screenwriter as well, Bava mixes shock value, real suspense, and a little bit of sexualized torture into an opening that doubtless sent some of the more sensitive filmgoers of the 1960s running for the doors.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5