The Skinny On... Nightmare Castle
Mario Bava kick-started the Italian gothic boom of the 1960’s with the baroque majesty of Black Sunday, which was followed by the exceptional work of Riccardo Freda (The Horrible Secret of Dr. Hichcock, The Ghost), the slow-moving but atmospheric films of Antonio Margheriti (Castle of Blood, The Long Hair of Death), and the sometimes inspired, sometimes insipid films of directors ranging from Giorgio Ferroni (Mill of the Stone Women) to Camillo Mastrocinque (Crypt of the Vampire) to Massimo Pupillo (Terror Creatures from the Grave). By the time Nightmare Castle was released in 1965, the genre was well worn if not verging on tired, but director Mario Caiano keeps the film fairly interesting by eschewing any pretense of great art in favor of a lush, sometimes garish soap opera atmosphere.
Nightmare Castle has everything you would expect in an Italian gothic: A spooky castle, a cheating wife, revenge from beyond the grave, and horror icon Barbara Steele playing two roles. Did the lady ever portray a single character in any film? This is definitely one of Steele’s better acting showcases, not in the least because it is the only Italian gothic in which you can hear the actress’ own voice. Steele did the dubbing for Jenny (though, curiously, not for Muriel). The simultaneously desirable and cadaverous countenance of Steele has made her a genre icon, and she really gets to strut her stuff here, playing the lustful, vengeful Muriel to a tee, and doing a fine job as the laughably clueless Jenny. The blonde wig does her no favors, but Steele fans can grouse little about the amount of screen time the actress enjoys. Nightmare Castle is a Steele vehicle, plain and simple.
Though many viewers complain about the pacing in Nightmare Castle, I didn’t find it any slower than the films of Margheriti, Mastrocinque, or even Bava for that matter. But whereas Bava infused his films with richly textured photography and deliriously flamboyant images, Caiano plays things rather straight, achieving few of the striking visual moments that defined the gothic subgenre. The ending is quite well done, however, with a few deliciously creepy shots of the decaying Muriel and Davis returned from the grave and thirsty for revenge. The story is a real potboiler, with elements of infidelity, torture, murder, vengeance, and insanity. Arrowsmith has a predilection for electrocution, which he uses twice during the course of the film. Another lurid touch has the doctor using Muriel’s blood to give his haggard elderly servant Solange (the lovely Helga Line) a youthful appearance. He then strikes up an affair with the newly beautiful octogenarian. When a second transfusion using Jenny’s blood goes awry, Solange withers into a rotting corpse.
The film features the first horror score of Ennio Morricone, and while I’ve heard many praise the music, I found it erratic to say the least. While there are a few effective cues, the music is often bombastic and sometimes badly out of place. One piece in particular, which is quite reminiscent to the main theme of Stanley Kubrik’s Barry Lyndon, sounds like it belongs in another movie. Like Barry Lyndon, for instance. To hear this stately, prim music as mad doctors and ghosts roam around haunted castle is almost a disorienting experience.
Severin’s new DVD release of Nightmare Castle is simply terrific, with a beautiful transfer of the film, and, as mentioned, an English audio track that features Barbara Steele’s actual speaking voice. The DVD also includes a 30-minute interview with Steele in which she speaks about her career. Though Steele seems a tad embarrassed at her status as a horror icon (she speaks much more highly of Fellini than of Bava, for instance), she seems to be warming somewhat to her status as she grows older. Even she admits that while she made all kinds of films, it’s her horror output that everyone remembers. Shouldn’t that tell you something, Barb?
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