City of the Living Dead (Lucio Fulci, 1980)

While most people seem obsessed with the scene where Michele Soavi's wide-eyed girlfriend literally pukes her own guts as a direct result of staring at a demonic priest for far too long, I'd like to focus on eyebrows, or, more specifically, on how they're filmed throughout City of the Living Dead (a.k.a. The Gates of Hell), the Italian zombie film about some weird shit that goes down in a town called Dunwich. However, before I continue down this hair raising path, let me check outside to make sure the apocalypse isn't taking place. It seems no less hellish than usual. Oh, what's that, why did I just look outside to make sure the my bird bath wasn't filled to the brim with blood and acidic pus wasn't oozing from the trees? It's simple, really. I didn't want to be writing about eyebrows as the world ended. But now that I know everything is fine, I can continue in a calm and rational manner. (You think everything is fine?!?) Okay, maybe it's not fine. Let's just say it's on the cusp of being fine and move on. Now, where was I? (Eyebrows!) Ah, yes. Do the actors who appear in Lucio Fulci films, especially the one's made during this period, ever feel self-conscious about their eyebrows after they watch the way the camera gets all up in their brow-zone over the course of these films? Of course, the lovely Catriona MacColl isn't going to feel self-conscious, as her eyebrows are so immaculately groomed, you could eat off them. (Eww, why would anyone in their right mind want to consume food that's been served on Catriona MacColl's eyebrows?) First of all, I said you "could" eat off them. And secondly, I was speaking metaphorically.

It would seem that I lost my train of thought again. Could you help a brother out? (Eyebrows!) Ah, yes. The men in this film, on the other hand, would probably think long and hard about buying a pair of tweezers after they saw the unruly nature of their eyebrows in this film. Quick question: Can you purchase tweezers individually, or do you need to get them with a bunch of other items, like a manicure set? I've always wondered about that. If you think I'm crazy to spend so much time yacking about eyebrows, then I'm afraid you haven't experienced this film with the full force of your eyeballs. (Huh?) What I mean is, if you haven't seen this film, you won't know what I'm talking about. However, if you have seen this film, and you happen to think my eyebrow fixation makes me crazy, you clearly didn't watch the same movie I did.

My obsessive interest may lay squarely at the bushy, rarely trimmed feet of eyebrows, but Lucio Fulci's primarily interested in what lies just beneath them. (He's interested in nostrils?) No, silly, he's interested in the eyes of his characters. Though, imagine if he was obsessed with nostrils, how weird would that be? (Yeah, you would be going on about how you could eat a whole catered lunch off Catriona MacColl's nostrils and how the guys in this film should start thinking about investing in a nose hair trimmer.) I know for a fact, by the way, that you can buy nose hair trimmers individually, as I've seen them listed in old-timey catalogues. For my money, you're better off going with an all-purpose hair trimmer, as you get more value for your buck.

The eyes are the window to the soul, or so they say. When Lucio Fulci zooms in close to the eyes of his characters, he's not trying give us any insight as to what they're thinking, he wants us to fear what could happen to them if they were prodded with a sharp object. While no eyeballs are perforated in the classic sense in this film, many an eyeball does ooze blood. (Bleeding eyes? Awesome.)

(Wait a minute, how do you make an eyeballs bleed if you don't prod them something?) Prepare to have your mind blown, you make eyeballs bleed by staring into the eyes of the living dead. If I'm going eat anything off Catriona MacColl, it's going to be... (Oh-oh, here we go.) Why do you always think I'm going to say, "vagina"? Sure, I wouldn't mind eating some chicken fricassee off her spacious pussy area, but I was actually thinking about eating something off another part of her body all-together.

Do you see that giant swath of pale skin located above her eyebrows. (You mean her forehead?) Yeah, her forehead (you should be a doctor). Well, I want to eat a regular-size bowl of ice cream and use her massive forehead as a makeshift lucite table. (Interesting. Why ice cream, though?) Don't you get it? Her eyes in this movie drip strawberry sauce. (On your marks, get set, yum!) Um, I hate to break it to you, but that ain't strawberry sauce, it's blood. Now that I've established that Catriona MacColl has a big forehead and that I'm certifiably insane, I can safely move on to less idiotic ground.

A seance is taking place in New York City and a priest hangs himself in a cemetery in a town called Dunwich (Yeah-ea-eah!). No, this is not the set up to some lame joke, it's serious business. The spiritual well-being of the planet is jeopardy, and the only person with the power to make things right has just died. Yeah, you heard right, Mary Woodhouse (Catriona MacColl) is dead. Seeing a priest hang himself in a vision was too much for her and she died. The end. Oh, and according to Theresa (Adelaide Aste), one of Mary's psychic friends and a big fan of The Book of Enoch, something "horrendously awful" is about to occur. (You mean the actor who plays the detective who interviews those who were present when Mary died is about to start acting?) While he could be described as "horrendously awful," I was actually referring to the army of zombies that are currently amassing in a town called Dunwich.

I don't know 'bout you, but this film could really use some Giovanni Lombardo Radice (Cannibal Ferox) right about now. And wouldn't you know it, there he is, in all his awesome glory. I won't mince words, I love this guy, as he makes everything better. Anyway, don't ask me what his deal is in this movie, 'cause I have no idea. Playing Bob, Giovanni, when he's not playing with blow up dolls, can be usually seen wandering around the wind swept streets of Dunwich in a daze.

Since the film needs more than dead psychics and blonde buffoons to move its story along, we're introduced to a New York reporter named Peter Bell (Christopher George, Pieces), Sandra (Janet Agren, Eaten Alive!), a Dunwich artist with sharp cheekbones, and Gerry (Carlo De Mejo, The Other Hell), a bearded shrink. In fact, these three, along with Mary, do the majority of the film's heavy lifting when it comes to advancing the plot. (Wait, what do you mean, "along with Mary"? She's dead.)

It will take a lot more than being declared clinically dead to keep Mary down. In the film's first great scene, Peter Bell frees Mary, who was sort of buried in her coffin (one of the gravediggers, by the way, is played by Michael Gaunt, A Women's Torment), by using a pick-axe. Thinking that he hears screams coming from Mary's partially buried coffin, Peter debates with himself whether or not to investigate. The way Peter's indecisiveness combined with Mary's panicked screams was pretty intense (even more so if you have a fear of enclosed spaces).

(Why did they bury Mary if she wasn't dead?) It doesn't matter. What does matter is, she's well-rested and she's ready to close the gates of hell. She better hurry, though, All Saints Day is fast approaching, and, according to The Book of Enoch, if the gates aren't closed come midnight, the dead will rise from their graves and take over the world.

Bumming a ride with Peter Bell, Mary heads down to Dunwich to stop all this from happening. Meanwhile, one of the citizens of Dunwich is about to experience the worst case of irritable bowel syndrome ever. Earlier I called the actress who vomits up her guts as "Michele Soavi's wide-eyed girlfriend." This was an error on my part, as Daniela Doria deserves to be lavished with copious amounts of praise for the ordeal she is put through in this movie. As the larger organs start to spill forth from her mouth, it's obvious they're using a dummy mouth. However, in the early going, when the intestines begin to spew, it's clear that Daniela Doria has a mouth full of real entrails.

If you're starting to envy Michele Soavi's character (who is sitting next to Daniela Doria as she pukes her guts out), don't. He suffers the first of the film's many brain grabbings. And believe me, it's as nasty as it sounds. Though, it's not as nasty as the face drilling scene. Now, I won't say which character suffers this unpleasant fate, but let's just say it wasn't a bit player. And that what makes City of the Living Dead such a harrowing ordeal, anyone can be killed (i.e. have their brain grabbed) at any given moment.

Maggot storms, gut puking, face drilling, brain grabbing, and bleeding eyes might grab get all the headlines, but the film, thanks in part to the excellent score by Fabio Frizzi, is actually quite atmospheric in places. I'm not comfortable declaring this to be my favourite Lucio Fulci film (it is severely lacking in the perversion department and fashion-wise the film is a bust), but it's definitely in the top three.

Tenebre (Dario Argento, 1982)

Try to refrain from teasing Doberman Pinschers and always make sure to check the pulse of demented serial killers after they have supposedly slit their own throat with a razor. I don't know 'bout you, but I think these two pieces of advice will probably help four, maybe five people in the audience. In other words, they're not the kind of situations most of us will encounter over the course of your average day. However, there are literally millions of dark-haired Italian women out there, most likely dressed in all white, who will watch Tenebre in the hope that they might be able to pick up a few tips here and there on how to survive an attack by a razor-wielding psychopath with a grudge against society. Unfortunately, judging by the number of dark-haired Italian women who are stabbed, slashed and sliced to death in this movie, you could view it as a sort of guide pertaining to what not to do when confronted with a faceless killer wearing black gloves. I was going to suggest that maybe the dark-haired Italian women should arm themselves–you know, with a weapon of some kind. But then it dawned on me, in the film's most famous death scene involving a dark-haired Italian woman, the dark-haired Italian woman in question is holding–what I presume–is a loaded hand gun. The poster-girl for serial killer preparedness, the dark-haired Italian woman holding the loaded hand gun–get this–ends up losing the very hand she is holding the loaded hand gun with. I'm no forensic pathologist, but you can't cut off someone's hand with just one swipe from a razor. It's true, you can't. But who said the killer is using a razor? Uh, you did. Oh, yeah, that's right, I did. Well, the killer is now using an axe. And, as we all know, axes are perfect for chopping off hands. They're also perfect for redecorating a bland-looking white wall. Come again?!? I'm not following.

You see, when the axe cuts through human flesh, torrents of blood spew through the air. And if the person whose been hacked with an axe is standing next to a wall–preferably a white wall–it will instantly turn red. Getting back to my original point, if you're a dark-haired Italian woman and you were hoping to get some helpful pointers on how to survive an elaborately staged murder scene in a Dario Argento film, you're plum out of luck.

According to this film, which features the talented one two punch of Lamberto Bava (Delirium: Photo of Gioia) and Michele Soavi (Stage Fright) as first and second assistant directors (the latter appears as an actor as well), you're only chance for survival is to stand near a pointy avant garde sculpture and hope it falls in a manner that ends up putting the assailant permanently out of commission.

Why are you trying to give dark-haired Italian women tips on how to survive a Dario Argento film? I don't like to see people killed, especially attractive, dark-haired Italian women. Really? I don't buy it. In fact, the only reason you're watching this film is to see attractive, dark-haired Italian women murdered. I'm shocked that you would think that. Okay, try to imagine Tenebre without its four signature murder sequences. Oh my God! I'm not watching that. Fine. I like to watch attractive Italian women with dark hair murdered on film. Is that so wrong? You know what, don't answer that.

Besides, just as many men are murdered in this film than women are. I know, that doesn't exactly make things any less awkward. But still, it's comforting to know that men are murdered as well. Of course, the scenes involving men are nowhere near as stylish or exhilarating as the one's that feature dark-haired Italian women buying it.

Oh, in case you're wondering, the reason I call them "dark-haired Italian women" is because that's what they are. But the real reason has more to do with the fact that I don't know their names yet. What I mean is, I'm not familiar with the actresses who play the victims, and each time I call them "dark-haired Italian women" I feel as if I'm getting closer to knowing who they really are.

The film opens with a writer Peter Neal (Anthony Franciosa), one who specializes in sleazy murder mysteries, ridding to the airport, oh, let's say, LaGuardia, on his bike. As he's about to get on a plane to Rome, we notice that Jane (Veronica Lario), a dark-haired [possibly] Italian woman dressed all in white, is watching the author with much interest.

Meanwhile, in Rome, Elsa Manni (Ania Pieroni), a dark-haired [definitely] Italian woman dressed all in...wait a minute, her skirt is clearly pink. Whew! That's a relief. I thought for a minute there she was about to get murdered. Why are you looking at me like that? I thought you said only dark-haired Italian women dressed all in white are the one's who get brutally murdered in this film. And, from where I'm sitting, Elsa is not wearing all white. Let the scene play out first, you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Caught shoplifting a copy of Peter Neal's latest book "Tenebre," Elsa manages to weasel out of being charged by promising to have sex with the store's detective at a later date. Hitching a ride home on the back of a friend's motorcycle, Elsa's troubles aren't over as she has to contend with the grabbing hands of an unwashed derelict. Kicking him in the balls with her dark pumps, Elsa is able to get behind the gate of her home in time before the unwashed derelict can start grabbing at her again. Taking off her dark pumps (the real hero in the altercation with the unwashed derelict - Dark pumps. The very best there is. When you absolutely positively must kick the balls of every last unwashed derelict in the room, accept no substitutes), Elsa proceeds to remove her...

Stop! Don't remove your pink skirt that's pleated near the bottom. Don't you get it? Once you take off your pink skirt that's pleated near the bottom, you'll be wearing nothing but clothes that are white. Bah, what's the worst that could happen? Don't say I didn't warn you.

Wearing nothing but a white top, Elsa notices her phone isn't working. And just as she's about to turn around to do something Italian, a razor is being held to her throat and black gloved hand is stuffing pages of "Tenebre" into her mouth. I don't think I have to tell you what happens next.

Greeting Peter Neal at the airport in Rome is his agent, Bullmer (John Saxon), and a group of reporters, including Tilde (Mirella D'Angelo), a staunch lesbian who doesn't like the fact that her girlfriend, Marion (Mirella Banti), fucks dudes for money on the side.

You know this film needs? It needs some Daria Nicolodi. Oh, wait, there she is. Playing Anne, Peter Neal's secretary, Daria Nicolodi, you'll notice, has red hair, yet she's dressed in all white. I'm confused. I mean, it doesn't say anything here about redheaded Italian women dressed all in white. Oh, man. I don't know what to think now.

At any rate, when Peter Neal, Anne, and Gianni (Christian Borromeo), Peter Neal's youthful assistant, arrive at the hotel, two detectives, Det. Germani (Giuliano Gemma) and Inspector Altieri (Carola Stagnaro), are waiting for them. Informing the writer about the gruesome manner in which Elsa Manni was murdered (like I said, pages from his latest bestseller were stuffed into her mouth), the police also show him a menacing note from the killer that was sent to his hotel room.

While technically not a brunette, the gorgeous Eva Robin's (Bad Inclination) appears during these strange flashback  sequences that take place on a beach; hence the reason she's credited as "Girl on Beach." Dressed in a white dressed and wearing red pumps, Eva Robin's is surrounded by a bunch of faceless boys. One of them slaps her hard in the face, causing the other boys to tackle him. As they pin him to the sand, Eva Robin's strolls over and proceeds to shove the heel of one of her red pumps into the mouth of the boy who slapped her. (Red Pumps. The very best there is. When you absolutely...) I don't know what this has to do with anything. But I'm guessing it's a painful memory pulled directly from the mind of the killer.

All right, I think I've waited long enough. The electro score by Goblin is one of the best I've ever heard. Seriously, I'd put it up there with Wang Chung's To Live and Die in L.A. score and Chuck Cirino's score for Chopping Mall in terms of synthy greatness. And while we heard the theme from Tenebre during the opening credits. It doesn't really get a chance to display its utter awesomeness until Mirella D'Angelo and Mirella Banti are confronted by the killer in their swanky home, where the former is attacked while putting on a t-shirt–a white t-shirt–and the latter is attacked while wearing a towel–a white towel.

However, before the attack occurs, we given an extended tour of the roof of their house. And it's during this tour that I really started to appreciate the throbbiness of Goblin's score. It can't say enough good things about the music in this film, as it's the type of music I wish every movie had as its soundtrack. And when I say "every movie," I mean, every movie. Even Driving Miss Daisy and Edward Penishands.

You would think that the confrontation between the killer and the two dark-haired Italian women in their home would be the pinnacle of this film's greatness. Think again, pal. Sure, the camera angles, the music, the intensity of the violence featured in the previous scene are nearly impossible to top in terms of being iconic, but a plucky actress named Lara Wendal and a resolute Doberman Pinscher are going to try, nonetheless.

Playing Maria Alboretto, the daughter of the landlord of the building Peter Neal is currently living in, Lara Wendel's decision to taunt the Doberman Pinscher that barks at her during her walk home from a disastrous date with her boyfriend (Michele Soavi) will come back to haunt her.

She doesn't know it yet, but the Doberman Pinscher she is currently poking at with is a stick is the dog shit when it comes to jumping fences. After multiple attempts, it finally makes over the first fence, and just like that, the best dog chase sequence in slasher film history is underway. Now, some audience members might be shocked to learn that dog in question is 100% real. That's right, there's no CGI tomfoolery to be found during this epic chase.

Even though I might have missed a few along the way, I think at least four fences are scaled during this particular chase. Well, actually, if your numbers are correct, that's not entirely true, as Maria doesn't quite make it over the fourth fence. Oh, yeah. She doesn't, does she? Yeah, I forgot about that. Either way, the music cue that occurs when a black gloved hand lifts a razor in anger is fantastic. And the piece of music that accompanies the final leg of Lara Wendel's ordeal is called "Flashing" and it's just as amazing as the film's theme song.

Granted, I've seen and appreciated many forms of cinematic arterial spray over the years. But the type employed during the film's bloody finale was simply ridiculous. And I mean that in a good way. To call it "spray" doesn't seem to do it justice, as it's more like an arterial gusher. At first, I felt sort of bad for all people murdered in this film. Then it dawned on me. No, I don't feel sorry for them, I actually envy them. That's right, envy. Think about it. Who wouldn't want to be killed in such an elegant manner? To be killed in the gruesome mode the people are killed in this movie would be a honour and a privilege. I know, murder is wrong and junk, but if you're going to go, why not go in style?

While I'm currently in the process of re-watching some of Dario Argento's essential films, I can't imagine any of them coming close to topping the icy perfection of Tenebre. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to crank the film's soundtrack while slowly pacing back and forth in a menacing fashion. I do have a pair of black leather gloves, but I don't own an open razor. So, instead, I'm using an old feather duster. Watch out dark-haired Italian women the world over, I'm going to straight up dust your ass.

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Cemetery Man (Michele Soavi, 1994)

When I think of the 1990s, the last thing that comes to mind is great horror. In fact, I can't think of any horror movies from that particular ten year period that are worthy of the unique brand of praise I like to dole out on a regular basis. Sure, there are lots of cool horror flicks from 1990, 1991, 1992, and 1993. But those years are basically the late '80s (the last gasp of a dead decade, if you will). Try finding anything of note that was made beyond early '90s, and you will find yourself watching I Still Know What You Did Last Summer on a loop (my God, how did I get here?). Which is why I was somewhat taken aback by the undiluted awesomeness that Cemetery Man (a.k.a. DellaMorte DellaMore) was putting out there. I know, I shouldn't be surprised–after all, it was directed by Michele Soavi (pronounced: me-káy-lay so-áh-vee), the genius behind such films as Stage Fright and The Sect, and the story is based on the Tiziano Sclavi novel of the same name (his comic book "Dylan Dog" was apparently an influence as well)–but the last thing I expected to find was a darkly funny tale about an impotent "engineer" who enjoys reading the phone book and shoots zombie boy scouts in the head for a living. Hell, even the film's mentally challenged, comically rotund sidekick has a romantic subplot, and he barely grunts more than two words. You can't see it right away, but this film is special. Call me a sick twist dangling in a perverted wind, but the moment our "hero" shoots a bespectacled nun in the eye (just because she told him he couldn't smoke in the hospital's intensive care unit) was when I first realized that this film is not your typical zombie flick. And, by the way, I'm a little uncomfortable calling this film a "zombie flick," as it's not really about them. You could tell that the film wasn't just by observing the devil-may-care attitude Rupert Everett exudes while dispatching the so-called "returners."
 

 

They [the zombies] are more of a nuisance than an actual threat. The frailties of a human heart, on the other hand, play a bigger part in the world of Cemetery Man, as the love Francesco Dellamorte (Rupert Everett) feels for a mysterious widow (Anna Flachi), the new mayor's girlfriend (Anna Falchi), and a local prostitute (Anna Falchi) are what dominate the proceedings. Wow, that's a lot of acting heavy lifting for a someone so top heavy. What I mean is, Anna Falchi doesn't look like the kind of actress who's equipped to take on one role, let alone three. Of course, I was completely off base in my assumption, as Anna Falchi manages to give each incarnation of the woman who vexes the film's morbid protagonist a distinct personality. You think I'm kidding about him being vexed? Check this out, he forces a doctor to castrate him when he learns that one of Anna Falchi's alter egos has an erection phobia. Don't worry, though, the doctor opts for chemical castration instead of the old snip-a-roo.
 

 

Shooting returners in the head with his trusty six shooter seven days after being laid to rest has so commonplace at the Buffalora Cemetery, that he can't even seem to muster a sly smile while he casually ventilates their rotting skulls. It's true, every once and a while he gets to crush their heads with a shovel. But it's safe to say that Francesco Dellamorte is in a bit of a rut.
 

 

This changes, however, when Dellamorte spots "the most beautiful living woman I have ever seen" walking with a funeral procession. There to bury her dead husband, the widow (Anna Falchi) is obviously sad. But Francesco doesn't care, he must talk to her. However, shooting the dead with a brain-destroying accuracy and chatting up shapely Italian women are two totally different things. In other words, he blows it. Wondering if he'll ever get another chance to talk her, Francesco mulls over his options. Luckily, the widow is quite punctual when it comes to putting flowers on his dead husband's grave.
 

 

Ossuary: A container or receptacle, such as an urn or a vault, for holding the bones of the dead.
 

 

Who would have thought the cemetery's ossuary would turn out to be the reason the widow takes a liking to Francesco. Personally, I thought Rupert Everett's handsomeness was going to be the deciding factor. But, no, it was the cemetery's fully-stacked ossuary that made the widow's Italian pussy ache with desire.
 

 

Even though she's wearing a black veil over her face, you could easily tell that the widow was turned on by the ragged clothing, the bones, the tree roots, the wetness, and the general creepiness of the ossuary. Hey, whatever floats your boat, honey.
 

 

Running off in a huff after they started to make out (she doesn't want to dishonour he husband's memory), Francesco finds the widow standing in the moonlight (just one of the films many stunning images). Well, since she ran off, it's obvious that the widow has done some impromptu soul searching, and eventually decides that having sexual intercourse on her husband's grave with Rupert Everett is not only the correct course of action, it's the only sane one.
 

 

Was it, though? Whatever do you mean? It's Rupert Everett. So, yeah. Of course it was the "correct" thing to do. But her husband "returns" during a post-coital lull and bites her. I guess that's one of the negatives about having sex on the graves of loved ones in cemeteries known for having somewhat of a zombie problem.
 

 

Looking at him, you wouldn't think that Gnaghi (François Hadji-Lazaro), Francesco's developmentally challenged assistant, would turn out to be such a compelling character. After all, he's sharing the screen with Rupert Everette and Anna Falchi. But, to put it bluntly, Gnaghi rules! In town to meet with the mayor, Francesco, who has brought along Gnaghi, is there to talk business. When all of a sudden, Gnaghi spots Valentina Scanarotti (Fabiana Formica) sitting across the table from him. Who is she, you ask? Why she's the mayor's adorable teenage daughter. And judging by the amount of vomit that spews from his mouth (most of it landing on Valentina, causing her fly backwards in her chair), it's clear that Gnaghi is in love.
 

 

As expected, the puke approach wasn't a very effective method when it came to picking up the mayor's daughter. Distraught, Gnaghi runs home crying. Oh, poor Gnaghi. Why can't you catch a break? Wait a minute. What's this? Word on the street is that Valentina was just decapitated in a terrible motorcycle accident, one that also killed her biker boyfriend Claudio and a bus filled with boy scouts. Yay! Gnaghi is going to so pleased. What the hell? Don't you see? In roughly seven days, Gnaghi can begin wooing Valentina's severed head.
 

 

Of course, before the courtship of Valentina's severed head can begin, Francesco and Gnaghi must to fend off the hordes of zombie boy scouts that are about to come their way.
 

 

Speaking of cemeteries, did you know I used to cut through a cemetery when I walked to school? And get this, I didn't really have to. You see, there were two options when it came to walking to school. The first involved traversing the grounds of a Catholic school and the other was the cemetery option. And even though the former was somewhat quicker, I usually went with the latter. Unfortunately, the crowd/unruly mob I rolled with eventually shunned the cemetery root. Leaving me with a difficult decision. And that being, to quote "Subdivisions" by Rush, "conform or be cast out." 
 

 

That's fascinating and all, but would you walk through the cemetery featured in Cemetery Man? Well, let's take a look at the pluses and minuses, shall we? On the plus side: You might spot the hunky watchman and his shapely Italian girlfriend having sex on a tombstone. As for the minuses? Duh, flesh-eating zombies. Actually, the fact that it's so damn hilly was the cemetery's biggest minus. And I ain't walking up no fucking hill to get to school. Someone get my ass a bus pass, stat!  
 

 

The film gets increasingly dark and twisted when Death (who manifests himself by using the charred pages of a burnt phone book) tells Francesco Dellamorte to just kill the living. The logic being that it will save him the trouble of having to shoot them when they inevitably emerge from their coffins. He also starts to wonder what the rest of the world looks like (he has spent most of his life in the cemetery). Complicating matters even more is when different versions of Anna Falchi start to show up. My favourite, of course, being Zombie Falchi.
 

 

At the end of the day, I was most enamoured with the relationship between Gnaghi and Valentina's severed head (which he keeps in his broken television). We only get a brief glimpses of its majesty, but from what I saw, it was downright squee-worthy. In fact, I would have liked to have seen a spin-off that featured these two; a sitcom or maybe even a mini-series. The obvious title being, "Head Over Heels," the less obvious one being, "Undiagnosed Schizophrenic Loves Teenage Head." Oh, and fans of unorthodox camera angles will love the scene where Valentina's head lunges at her father's neck. Anyway, Cemetery Man is easily one of the best horror films of the 1990s. Oh, and keep an eye out for Michele Soavi regular Barbara Cupisti as a college student (her presence was sorely missed in The Sect).

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