With the Italian theatrical production industry in rapid decline near the end of the '80s, the audience shift to television and home video led to a raft of sometimes puzzling projects that had international horror fans scrambling to keep up. Feature-length installments in horror anthologies were touted in magazines like Fangoria, Deep Red, and GoreZone as standalone movies that would be impossible to see for a while, particularly the four-film Brivido Giallo cycle directed by Lamberto Bava. Noting the success of the unrelated La Casa ("The House") films in Italy inspired by that title slapped on Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead, Luciano Martino kicked off another string of made-for-TV horror movies, The Houses of Doom (Le case maledette), with Bava originally set to direct along with Lucio Fulci and Umberto Lenzi, each handling two films. When Bava had to drop out, the remaining directors went ahead with their two contributions using House in the title, but the results proved too extreme for the small screen with a fair amount of gushing blood and some discreet nudity as well. Unseen in Italy for years, the movies went to Japanese VHS and hit the bootleg circuit before the two Fulcis made their way to American DVD from Media Blasters' Shriek Show in 2002. All four of them were issued as drab-looking, non-anamorphic DVDs in the U.K. from Vipco, but you can now chuck all of them aside thanks to the deluxe The Houses of Doom Blu-ray set from Cauldron Films, featuring much-needed remasters of the shot-on-16mm films now looking much healthier and more colorful than before.

First up is Lucio Fulci's The House of Clocks, a small-scale supernatural yarn limited to a single remote country location. Here an elderly couple, Victor (Paoloni) and Sarah (Milne), passes the time by collecting clocks, ambling around their nicely appointed country home, and killing off those who prove to be inconvenient, such as the nosy maid (Carla Cassola) who gets impaled in the crotch. Meanwhile three semi-young delinquents (Van Hoven, Huff, and Hintz) stop off to loot the house by pulling a Clockwork Orange traffic accident story and then raiding the premises, killing the husband and wife along with the devoted handyman, Peter (Zombie's Cliver). However, the guard dogs prevent the homicidal trio from leaving; even worse, all of the clocks begin to turn backwards as time itself reverses, bringing the dead back to life...

Though it makes little to no sense (especially the pointless "gotcha!" final scene), House of Clocks ambles along well enough for most of its running time and features some halfway competent English dubbing for a TV film of the period. Naturally the characters are all one-dimensional pawns in a game ultimately proven to have no point, but the central conceit is an intriguing one and makes one ponder what Fulci might have done at the peak of his powers with this material. Some nice macabre touches like the cadavers stashed in the cellar bounce nicely off the suitably gory effects, including some nasty shotgunnings and an effective nod to the hands-in-the-yard scene from Mario Bava's Shock.

Considering the preponderance of filters used throughout the film, the U.S. DVD of The House of Clocks looked okay at the time with only a few compression-generated problems cropping up during some dark hallway scenes in the film's midsection. Extras include a strange, noisy-looking trailer with video-generated text, as well as trailers for Zombi 3, Sweet House of Horrors, House on the Edge of the Park, and Eaten Alive. Paolini (5m28s) and Cassola (9m32s) turn up for video interviews; both seem to have fond memories of working on the low budget production, with the special effects and make-up receiving most of the attention. There's also a very quick (1m32s) intro by Cliver. Ian Jane contributes an overview of the House of Doom series on the printed insert's reverse side, though the black on dark red type causes more than a little eyestrain. The Vipco disc had no significant extras apart from some minor filmographies and bonus trailers, the case with the other three titles as well.

The Cauldron Blu-ray is a big improvement; as with the rest of the series, it's a nice 2K restoration that's framed at a more spacious 1.66:1 with a lot more image info than the cramped 1.78:1 we've had before. Black levels are much deeper, and the colors (especially reds) look more impressive here. This and the other films all feature DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono English tracks as well as the mono Italian dub (there was no live sound recorded either way), with optional English SDH or English-translated subtitles. The film also comes with a new audio commentary by Eugenio Ercolani, Troy Howarth, and this writer, so no comments on that but hopefully you'll enjoy. "Lighting the House of Time" (25m45s) is an interview with cinematographer Nino Celeste explaining how he got his start on random documentaries and peplums (with some missteps along the way) before graduating to his main profession and working with Fulci whose experience with special effects proved handy with this film. In "Time and Music" (28m26s), composer Vince Tempera talks about his start working with Franco Bixio and Fabio Frizzi, their epic earlier collaborations with Fulci, his bizarre gig working on Luigi Cozzi's version of Godzilla, and his solo career that brought him back into the fold here. "Working with a Master" (23m56s) features assistant director Michele De Angelis (who has since died, unfortunately) chatting about his work with Fulci including the confusing "Lucio Fulci Presents" line, the time and budgetary restraints he encounters, and his work on both of the Fulci films in this series. Finally in "Time with Fulci" (19m18), effects artist Elio Terribili goes into his bumpy learning process including basics like making fog, as well as his memories of the "gruff" Fulci. The three archival DVD interviews are ported over here (Cliver, Cassola, Paolini) along with the tacky trailer, while the reversible sleeve has a really excellent design option by Alexandros Pyromallis to go along with the enclosed 23-track soundtrack CD (its first release in any format for Tempera's score). As with the other three discs, it also has a folded poster featuring artwork by Matthew Therrien with title treatments by Eric Lee.

Our second Fulci film, The Sweet House of Horrors, is a sporadically gory oddity with the director returning to the theme of haunted children explored in his more widely seen House by the Cemetery and Manhattan Baby, among others. As this is later period work for the director, the film's execution is bumpier than his golden age classics but still bears the unmistakable stamp of his gore-soaked obsessions. Things start with a bang, literally, as a married couple is slaughtered in their home, with the husband's head pulverized against a wall and the wife viciously knifed. The children of the deceased, Sarah and Marco, become the charges of their aunt and uncle, Marcia (The Beyond's Monreale) and Carlo (Rats: Night of Terror's Bretigniere), at the family estate. Unfortunately the grounds seem to be haunted, much to the children's delight, and cruel mishaps befall visitors including a real estate agent and the neurotic gardener (Demonia's Lino Salemme). Marcia is terrorized by the ghostly presence, which appears to manifest itself as a glowing, animated swirl of light; however, the spirits turn out to be as protective as they are ruthless, and the true villain is soon unmasked.

Apart from the sadistic opening (which is replayed later for good measure), The Sweet House of Horrors is a fairly restrained ghost yarn that would feel like a young adult spooky tale if it weren't for the splashy murder scenes. The murder mystery angle is no great shakes, with the culprit unmasked and dispatched in an offhand manner long before the wind-and-thunder finale. Unlike House of Clocks, this film suffers from one of the most grating dubbing jobs in recent memory; though the actors are usually speaking English, the looped voices are so disembodied and inappropriate they constantly detract from Fulci's modest visual achievements. The children are a particular embarrassment, voiced by lousy adult voice performers who make the dubbing of Bob in House by the Cemetery sound masterful.

Shriek Show's DVD was again fine when it came out, featuring only the English track and a 1.78:1 presentation. Extras include a 39s introduction from Monreale (probably shot the same time as her interview for the label's Beyond the Darkness), while video interviews go to Bretigniere (3m48s), Battaglini (3m5s), Salemme (10m46s), and actor Pascal Persiano (3m39s), all of whom offer their own recollections of working with Fulci. (For some reason, Bretigniere is mentioned nowhere on the box's special features.) Salemme has surprisingly little to say considering his oddball genre experience (both Demons films, for example), but the others are cheerful and more than forthcoming. Also included are the usual trailers, including an incredibly dreary promo for Sweet House could singlehandedly account for its lackluster international distribution.

The Cauldron Blu-ray again improves substantially in every possible way, and the Italian track here is a godsend as it's much easier on the ears. Here Ercolani and Howarth provide a new commentary going through Fulci's career at the time, Monreale's work with him and elsewhere, the production background of the series, and plenty more. In "Fulci House of Horrors" (16m43s), omnipresent set designer Massimo Antonello Geleng covers his numerous Fulci projects, his admiration for the director going back to his comedies and other genres, and the resourcefulness required on films like this to come up with eye-catching visuals for pocket change. In "Sweet Muse of Horrors" (28m55s), Monreale speaks about her career starting with a fortuitous stroll with her kitten that led to multiple Fulci projects and permanent Euro horror legend status. "Editing for the Masters" (18m5s) has editor Alberto Moriani discussing his mentor Luciano Martino, his genre-hopping assignments in the '80s, and his work for Fulci and other filmmakers like Antonio Margheriti.
The archival interviews ported over here include all four of the ones from the Shriek Show release as well as a 6m48s one with Monreale. You also get a fascinating 71m25s(!) reel of VHS-sourced production footage (and auditions?) featuring off-the-cuff interviews with many of the principals about their backgrounds. Again you get a soundtrack CD (20 tracks) premiering Tempera's score in excellent quality.

Then it's Lenzi's turn, and while his half of the series has been far more neglected, they're actually pretty comparable in terms of quality. In fact the third film in the box, The House of Witchcraft, is yours truly's favorite of them all, but your mileage may vary. Reporter Luke Palmer (Capriccio's Forest) is being driven to the edge by horrific nightmares involving a spooky kitchen and a scary old witch who's trying to make a big cauldron of soup with his severed head. To help him get over it, his very strange wife, Martha (Petrovna), decides to remove him from the care of her sister doctor, Elsa (Martinkova), to take him for a weekend getaway in the country to save their wrecked marriage. Upon arrival he finds the house they're staying in, owned by blind horticulturist and onetime pianist Andrew (Jess Franco regular Muller), is the same one from his dreams. Soon bodies are piling up all over the premises, and Luke thinks that his wife's fascination with the occult might mean that she's the witch from his visions. Meanwhile Andrew's glamorous architecture student niece, Sharon (Cavalli), is on hand to not only help him piece together the mystery but also maybe throw a wrench in his wedding vows.

<>After going back to action films and avoiding horror since his notorious Cannibal Ferox in 1981, Lenzi was suddenly back in the groove again around this time -- and anyone who loves his Ghosthouse will find a similar vibe here with plenty of surrealism and irrationality mixing with the usual kills and electronic music. You even get a cameo from that earlier film's maggot-faced skull guy, and some sequences like a murder in a room filled with snow flurries are pulled off with more visual panache than you'd expect from a made-for-TV film around this time. The film doesn't skimp on the gore either; you can easily see why this one in particular was a bridge too far for the small screen, and it's all soaked in that hazy late '80s Italian horror vibe that you simply can't reproduce today.

<>After decades of watching the pale old video master of this one, it's a real treat to finally see the Blu-ray looking robust here with far more care taken with the color scheme than you might have ever guessed. The scenes of Muller tending to his flowers look especially striking now, and the whole thing has a much er atmosphere than before. It's also nice to finally have the English and Italian tracks together with subtitles; both are fine but the Italian one is more elegant and suits the material quite well. Again you get a commentary by Ercolani, Howarth, and myself, while Terribili shows up again for<> "Artisan of Mayhem" (19m26s) exploring the safety process of his craft including working with stunt performers and actors, the frequency of shooting abroad in '80s productions, a pivotal effects artists strike in Italy, and plenty more. In "The House of Professionals" (18m36s), cinematographer Nino Celeste walks through his early career including mid-'60s experimental work and docs, his move to westerns, his work with a variety of directors including Pasquale Festa Campanile and <>Fulci, <>and the "crazy" Lenzi who didn't treat actors very well.

<>Finally the set concludes with Lenzi's The House of Lost Souls, a simplified English title for the more poetic La casa delle anime erranti (or The House of Wandering Souls). Yet again we have a spooky house that traps people in its supernatural web, this time a sprawling hotel where a group of geologists including Kevin (The Slumber Party Massacre's Johnson), Carla (The Story of Boys and Girls' Garello), and Massimo (Specters' Gazzolo) take refuge after the return from one of their digs is sabotaged by a landslide. Carla has been having upsetting dreams involving spiders on people's faces and a bald monk (Off Balance's Yamanouchi) who makes a gory mess when he hacks into religious <>statues. Toss in multiple kids, a homicidal washing machine, lots of wandering around, and a variety of stabbings, and you've got another spin on <>the Ghosthouse formula that works like a charm. As with the prior Lenzi film, the soundtrack is credited to "Claude King" who is really <>none other than Claudio Simonetti, who scored this in a rapid flurry with Dial Help, Primal Rage, and Lenzi's Nightmare Beach. Amusingly, here it gets goosed up with some of the composer's prior work including prominent use of "Killing" from Demons. It's adorable.

Also consigned to gray market and Vipco purgatory for decades, The House of Lost Souls also gets a new lease of life here and looks really great with a vibrant presentation that gives it a lot more punch when the shocks start flying. In this case the English and Italian tracks are about equivalent so you're fine either way, and out of all four films, for some reason this one was blessed with two new audio commentaries. Here you're in the capable hands of either Samm Deighan solo or the familiar pairing of <>Rod Barnett and Adrian Smith; there really isn't much overlap here at all so <>both are worth a listen. Deighan goes more into the history and recurring ideas of Lenzi's films as well as the tone and social concerns of Italian genre films in their twilight hours, while Barnett and Smith did deep in the production side of things including plenty about the series, the weird inception of this particular one, and a tantalizing idea about the location that <>could have spun things in a much more disturbing direction. Terribili returns for a third and final time in "Working with Umberto" (18m47s) covering the rest of his career and specifically his memories of Lenzi during his low budget days. In "The House of Rock" (14m21s), Simonetti doesn't address this film specifically but runs through his departure from Goblin in 1978, his tenure doing dance music, his solo scoring career starting with Phenomena, and the weird fact that he never met Fulci or Lenzi in person despite scoring their films. Finally "The Kriminal Cinema of Umberto Lenzi" (52m13s) is a thorough 2001 interview with the famously grandiose director chatting about his contributions to the peplum, crime film, giallo, and so on, with a particular fondness for his war films which have largely fallen out of favor today.

THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS: Cauldron Blu-ray

THE HOUSE OF CLOCKS: Shriek Show DVD

THE SWEET HOUSE OF HORRORS: Cauldron Blu-ray

THE SWEET HOUSE OF HORRORS: Shriek Show DVD

THE HOUSE OF WITCHCRAFT: Cauldron Blu-ray

THE HOUSE OF WITCHCRAFT: Vipco DVD

THE HOUSE OF LOST SOULS: Cauldron Blu-ray

THE HOUSE OF LOST SOULS: Vipco DVD

Reviewed on October 3, 2024