A Candle For the Devil (1973) review

 

A CANDLE FOR THE DEVIL 1973 aka UNA VELA PARA EL DIABLO aka IT HAPPENED AT NIGHTMARE INN

Judy Geeson (Laura Barkley), Aurora Bautista (Marta), Esperanza Roy (Veronica), Vic Winner (Eduardo), Lone Fleming (Helen Miller), Loretta Tovar (May), Charley Pineiro (Luis), Blanche Estrada (Norma)

Directed by Eugene Martin (Eugenio Martin)

***WARNING! This review contains images of nudity*** 

"My conscience was never more clear. Keep calm, Veronica... your sister has always known what is best for you... always... if it was an act of evil, they'll find out... if it was an act of God's justice, we'll never be discovered."--zealotry as justice seen through the eyes of a vengeful woman scorned essayed by actress Aurora Bautista. 

The Short Version: One of Euro horrors most accomplished terror tales is this subversively titled psycho-sexual character study about two societally and socially malnourished sisters who run a lodge for locals and tourists. One of the sisters is so devoted to her faith, she has no compunction about killing for Christ when it comes to modern day sinners. Spanish director Martin (HORROR EXPRESS) has fashioned a provocative, and highly recommended tale of sex, death, desire, penance and perversion of Catholicism centered around a comely Dead and Breakfast. There's not a great deal of gore, but the sleazy mix of sex and religion may be too offensive for some as presented in this strikingly symbolic Spanish horror obscurity. 

Marta and Veronica are two god-fearing sisters who run a popular guesthouse frequented by many of the locals and foreign tourists in a small, mountainside hamlet. Laura Barkely arrives at this Inn to meet her sister, but is told by the two restauranteurs that she has already vacated the house. Finding it hard to believe her sister would leave abruptly, and with no police within reach, Laura investigates her sisters disappearance and soon notices that others staying at this lodge begin to vanish without a trace.

The title for this exemplar Spanish morality tale might sound like a movie about demonism and devil worship, but it's actually a tempestuous tale of revenge, the perversion of religion, and the clash of outmoded oldeworld beliefs versus the free-spirited, sexually liberated modern society. This portrait of the crumbling ethics of Roman Catholicism is strikingly relevant today, and not just confined to Western European religious beliefs. It is arguably among the best, and most cinematically significant Euro horror pictures to emerge from the 1970s.

Aside from the the depiction of religion in an ever changing social climate as seen through the eyes of the old and the young, this movie also presents some controversial issues regarding men and women. The men rarely figure into the plot other than to be seen as slobbering oglers viewing women as little more than objects of desire. Of course, the women -- particularly those who are beautiful and prone to reveling in the magnificence of their bodies -- are demonized and ridiculed as setting the libidinous, corruptible nature of man into motion.

In the eyes of these two sisters, men are viewed as less emotional beings, unable, or incapable of identifying with morality and are not susceptible to the same rules as the women. This goes back to the age old question of  'why is it normal for men to sleep with multiple women, but women who sleep with multiple partners are whores?' You could say the women "hold the keys to the kingdom" so to speak. They can control, manipulate, and destroy men with their luscious bodies. They can also destroy women of less appeal with their most powerful weapon -- their sexuality. And in the eyes of Marta, this must be suppressed. In Marta's view, men are animals and do what they do because it's in their nature; which explains why she blames younger, more attractive women born out of jealousy and hatred more than any attachment to religious faith.

However, there is one male character who is not a playboy and is genuine in his feelings for a woman -- that woman being the more passive sister, Veronica, who hides her secret sex life with Luis (20 years her junior) from her religiously dogmatic sister. Despite proclaiming his feelings for her, Veronica never seems to listen, thinking this young man is only enjoying the frequent dalliances; too young to conceive the feeling of love. She brings him money -- seemingly for the sex -- although he repeatedly states he doesn't want the money.

This is yet another arc the script (by Martin and Tony Fos) explores in enough detail to add immeasurably to the exposition of the characters, particularly between the two sisters; something not always associated with European horror pictures, and not always to this degree.

It's difficult to say which of the two siblings are the most intriguing. Both are emotionally damaged -- Marta by a man who left her for one of those swingin' young harlots, and Veronica by her sister's oppressive personality. Fiercely religious, Marta despises the wiles of the modern woman and isn't above murder to justify her feelings in the eyes of God. Her more passive sister Veronica, dotingly goes along with her sisters gruesome proclivity, and, while essentially an accomplice, is more of a victim of circumstance.

Furthermore, both sisters have hidden sexual desires. Veronica acts out her fantasies with the younger Luis, but keeps this from her sister. On the flip side, Marta is clearly repressed, and secretly pines for the touch of a man. This is revealed during a sequence where Marta spies a group of young men (including Luis) swimming in a river. They are naked (and the camera uncomfortably focuses on the much younger males genitalia) and she is noticeably aroused. When she walks away, she pays penance for this sin by casually strolling through a lengthy stretch of thorn bushes, flagellating herself in the process.

Her brief flirtation with sexual exploration continues upon her return to the Inn where she puts her old wedding dress on. This is where we learn what has led Marta to this unstable point in her life. It's also a moment where the script alerts us that Marta's murderous tendencies aren't wholly attributed to her religious convictions, but out of a need for revenge against all beautiful women and the "enchantments" they place on the "weaker" of the two sexes, the male.

Considering the bulk of the film revolves around the two repressed sisters, the lead billing of Judy Geeson is seriously compromised by the performances of both Bautista and Roy. Those two actresses consume so much of the film. It doesn't undermine Geeson's performance, but there are times you forget she is in the picture. The character of Laura is very likable, and the two sisters like her solely for the fact that she dresses conservatively and doesn't flaunt her sexuality in the presence of men. Again, this goes back to the strong beliefs of the two middle aged women.

Religious iconography also plays a major role in this picture (from paintings, to architecture and to faith, as distorted as it may be from the perspective of the sisters). This speaks volumes on the subject of Christianity through the ages and its decline with each passing decade.

There's a message here, and it's up to the viewers interpretation as to how they read it. The mayor even makes the remark that the two elder siblings "belong to another generation". This becomes clear when both sisters discuss the first murder at the opening of the movie. Marta justifies her actions by stating, "Years ago that shameless girl would have been burned alive in the public square." Her mindset is that of centuries before when frightened, superstitious villagers burned (and worse) innocent and pretty girls at the stake for allegedly being witches and practicing devil worship. Religion can be a dangerous practice for those who distort it from a message of love to one of hate; which brings us to another of this films fascinating angles -- the correlation between religion and death.

After murdering, then dismembering Laura's sister's body (offscreen), Marta is covered in crimson. Later, after her self-flagellation via the rows of thorn bushes, she is likewise covered in bloody lashes, only this time, the blood is her own. She exorcises her participation in this crime as being the will of God, but at the same time, her lustful respite watching naked young men play in a pool of water is, to her, also a punishable offense. The "justified" killings continue till things spiral out of control after a piece of gossip leads to a young girls death who was not the tramp she was believed to be. It's here where the things fall apart quickly for the murderous zealot and her complying sister.

  

Bolstered by strong performances from the two leads, British actress Judy Geeson is a worthy co-star. The film is further supported by a fiery, lascivious portrayal from perennial Euro horror scream queen, Lone Fleming. Any fan of Spanish horror will recognize this lovely actress from such titles as TOMBS OF THE BLIND DEAD (1971) and DEMON WITCH CHILD (1975) to name two.

The music of Antonio Perez Olea perfectly captures the darker side of the religious faithful with ominous organ backed cues. The gore is kept to a minimum, outweighed by frequent nudity and scantily clad cast members.

A CANDLE FOR THE DEVIL was released here in a severely edited version as IT HAPPENED AT NIGHTMARE INN, and this cut version is also available as a stateside release. It's a little rough around the edges at times, but this low budget psychological horror programmer is a real treat for foreign horror lovers seeking a thought provoking thriller masquerading under the guise of European sleaze.

This review is representative of the Odeon Entertainment PAL R0 DVD.

The Vampires Night Orgy (1973) review

 

THE VAMPIRES NIGHT ORGY 1973 aka LA ORGIA NOCTURNA DE LOS VAMPIROS

Jack Taylor (Luis), Helga Line (The Countess), Dianik Zurakowska (Alma), Fernando Bilbao (Giant), Sarita Gil (Violet), Fernando Romero (boy)

Directed by Leon Klimovsky

***WARNING! This review contains images of nudity***

"...only these villages buried between mountains can boast of meat of such excellent... quality... no other place will you find a roast like this."--the mysterious Major vaguely hinting at the Inn's chief ingredient. But we know what's in the meat!

The Short Version: Genre vet Leon Klimovsky directed this tightly shot, EC style horror story involving a spooky, isolated hamlet, ghouls, ghosts, vampires and cannibalism. Marinated in a Grand Guignol style, these ingredients are braised into a delectable dish of unique Euro horror flavor topped off with a peppery hint of black humor. The gore calorie count is low, but the taste is filling. The recipe is recommended especially for the palettes of 1970s European horror specialists. 




A myriad group of people all on their way to begin work under the employ of a wealthy aristocrat encounter trouble when their bus driver suddenly dies from a heart attack. Traveling on, they decide to take a shorter route to a town called Tolnia to rest for the night. Curiously, the town isn't on their map, and when they arrive, they find the place deserted. The following day, the visitors discover the hamlet does indeed have villagers, and they're lorded over by a woman known only as The Countess. With their bus broke down, the Countess offers the stranded travelers free room and board, and also pays them for their inconvenience. However, the town of Tolnia harbors an evil secret, and as each night passes, more of the travelers disappear.




Veteran horror director Klimovsky has made a number of serviceable Euro-horrors (a few with Paul Naschy), and this tale of ghouls and vampires is one of the creepier ones. The anemic logic of European made spookers is surprisingly absent here, making the plotline of more interest than many of these movies, and recalls other, non Euro titles of a similar nature.



Regardless of the lack of cohesion, or common sense in most Euro horror pictures, one of their strongest assets is an oppressive atmosphere of impending doom. This aura of dread isn't created on a soundstage, but in real locations dripping with a dank, Gothic ambiance. This atmosphere is one of the highlights of THE VAMPIRES NIGHT ORGY.



The director is very successful in this respect. Klimovsky takes this feeling of danger further by populating this isolated village with a murderous bunch of individuals whom all possess eerie visages made all the more pronounced by macabre camera angles and close ups. The faces of these villagers are unique, and recall similar grotesque human imagery seen in Leone's westerns, and also those of Corbucci.




Klimovsky's thematic inspirations are unknown, but similarities can be drawn from a few possible foreign horror subjects such as Romero's NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968), Herschell Gordon Lewis's 2000 MANIACS (1964), CANNIBAL GIRLS (1972) and, to an extent, MESSIAH OF EVIL (1973). Arguably the most blatant inspiration would have to be the 'Midnight Mess' segment from THE VAULT OF HORROR (1973). The storyline of that 15 minute tale of horror from one of Amicus' last anthology films is stretched out to feature length here, but with some nerve-jangling alterations.



When the townsfolk finally make their appearance (they're unaccounted for at night, later claiming to gather in the cemetery!), they seem normal enough upon first glance. None of them are given names. Most have no dialog, but speak volumes simply by observing from afar with disturbingly sinister countenances.  When members of the cast are separated from the others, these curious acting locals come out and attack en mass recalling the cannibalistic villagers from the excellent MESSIAH OF EVIL. The nighttime scene aboard the broken down bus is a highlight.

With nothing to feed this motley bunch of victims-to-be, the problem is solved by relieving certain villagers of an arm or a leg which are then cooked as meaty dishes to the unsuspecting guests! These delectable moments are served up with a blackly comical relish that wasn't common among such European horror pictures. This predilection for the macabre works wonders in the script, and in Klimovsky's direction. This is one time where Euro-horror cinemas "dream logic" is dutifully applicable, and the instances of the unexplained only enhance the peculiarity of the proceedings. 

The opening of the film sets this uneasy, nightmarish tone the rest of the picture maintains. In it, we see a funeral procession, but we never see the faces of the mourners. The casket accidentally falls and breaks open revealing a rotted corpse covered in maggots. The mourners turn and run away, but we never see their faces.



The script carefully unveils one clue after the next that our unwary travelers are not going to end up well. After the bus driver has a heart attack, they all disperse the bus to figure out what to do. The little girl Violet, walks away from the others momentarily and finds a small boy. She talks to him, but he doesn't say much. She turns away and then back again and the boy is suddenly gone. This boy pops up a few more times and it's obvious he's some apparition of sorts, although it's never clear what his connection is with the hamlet of horrors. 

One of the best scenes involves a bit of ingeniously gruesome foreshadowing as the boy lures(?) Violet away to the cemetery. The boy has this swell idea to bury her doll, but leaves one of the dolls hands exposed through the earth. What follows is one of the films most disturbing sequences.




The Countess (listed as The Lady in the end credits), who holds sway over this mysterious village, is played by Euro cinema favorite Helga Line. Familiar to many from numerous Sword and Sandal and Italian western movies, Helga Line made an imprint on the Euro horror scene as well. She puts in what amounts to an extended cameo here, possibly racking up approximately 10 minutes of screen time total. 

We learn just enough about who she is and how she came to be so wealthy, but her real function is to act as the Queen V. And she bares her fangs (among other things) on a few occasions. It's also worth mentioning that The Countess is the only member of this vampire cult that seems to have fangs. Others who are transformed into members of the undead only have noticeably large sets of teeth that give them an added ghastly appearance.



The gargantuan Bud Spencer lookalike, Fernando Bilbao, plays The Countess's main subordinate. He's not given a name, either. The credits list him simply as The Giant. He skulks around the town with his axe collecting limbs under orders of his vampiric mistress. He's easily the most Grand Guignol of the bunch. One scene is especially sardonic wherein he has his axe sharpened, then proceeds to chop off the arm of the man who performed the service!

The finale is also noteworthy in its revelation via Jack Taylor's dialog as to how this breed of vampire were able to walk in the daytime. Curiously, throughout the entire film, we never see any rays of sunlight. However, once the survivors escape the clutches of the hellish creatures, we glimpse the films only moments of brightness. The closing sequence packs a particularly ghostly punch. Where most movies of this sort would end after our heroes make their escape, Klimovsky's picture gives us one last surprise or two.



Along with Helga Line, Jack Taylor is the most recognizable face in the cast having amassed a great many credits to his name spanning Mexi-horror, lucha libre action and Euro genre fare from a gaggle of familiar horror directors. This is one of Taylor's best roles allowing him to be the lead hero and not some cold-natured professor type he was often associated with. He also has a lascivious side to his character. Upon finding a peephole in the wall of his room, he frequently watches Dianik Zurakowska (herself appearing in a handful of Euro genre offerings) undressing for bed!

The films one major misstep is a woefully unremarkable soundtrack. A few cues are pleasing, but all of them are canned tracks, and most of them do not fit the onscreen action at all. The few cues that have a Euro flavor to them are welcome, but the bulk of the library tunes chosen here would sound more at home in a lounge, or elevator somewhere.



Like the film this is paired with, DR. JEKYLL AND THE WOLFMAN (1972), this is the unclothed, international version of THE VAMPIRES NIGHT ORGY. There are a few nude scenes to amp up the trash quotient, but gore is kept to a minimum. The story is quite good, and Klimovsky's direction looks far more assured and focused than it normally did. The recent Code Red DVD is an essential purchase for horror collectors, and especially for those with an affinity for European lensed spookers. This orgiastic double header definitely satisfies.

This review is representative of the Code Red double feature DVD paired with DR. JEKYLL AND THE WOLFMAN.