The Grim Cellar

1979, Italy, Directed by Lucio Fulci

Colour, Running Time: 92 minutes

DVD, Region 1, Media Blasters, Video: Anamorphic 2.35:1, Audio: Dolby Digital 5.1

Better known under the morbidly good title of Zombie Flesh Eaters here in the UK, Fulci’s most commercial outing was originally considered as an unofficial sequel to George Romero’s Dawn of the Dead (entitled Zombi in Europe) following a worldwide financial return that would have highlighted Lira signs in the eyes of any self-respecting Italian producer (in this case Fabrizio De Angelis along with Ugo Tucci) - I’ve read that Zombi 2 has since made anything in the region of thirty million dollars. Rather than following on from Romero’s revered film, however, this story lays the foundations for the dead returning to life, initiating the apocalyptic setting that would take full grip in Romero’s movie. Briefly, a boat turns up floating unmanned around Manhattan island attracting the attention of local authorities. After an officer is attacked by a rather putrescent-looking man on board it is closed off and news reporter Peter West becomes interested, eventually crossing paths with Ann, the daughter of a scientist who has links with the vessel. Peter and Ann hire a couple of holidaymakers with a boat and head off to the island of Matul (spelling varies depending on source) to track down her father and find out what the hell’s happening. What they won’t realise until they get there is that the old man is experimenting to find out why voodoo can make dead men walk, and the island is infested with the living dead - relentless putrescent corpses that seem to have a hunger for human meat.

Whilst this could have been simply a derivative attempt to make a few quid on the back of someone else’s ideas it morphed into something a whole lot more. The writers decided to weave in the reasons for the reawakening of cadavers, something which Romero persistently avoided, and in choosing voodoo as the cause actually took this particular sub-genre back to its mythological or historical roots. This really is a completely different monster to Romero’s outings - the settings jump from New York (I actually recognised one particular location from my own visit there) to the Caribbean, the undead creatures have an appearance that’s comparatively horrific (amazing make-up job), and the atmosphere as a whole is something fairly unique to Fulci’s genre output. The pacing is thoroughly well executed (although some people have disagreed with that point), beginning quite slowly and accumulating events of a increasingly sadistic nature as it builds towards an incredibly tense climax where the remaining heroes are trapped in a church that’s surrounded by homicidal rotting corpses. While the heroes initially volunteer their presence in this adventure, almost like taking their canoes for a row in calmer waters, they gradually find themselves being whisked uncontrollably along towards an inevitable fate. As suggested the creature attacks are brutally violent and never before has the gore, courtesy of master Giannetto de Rossi, looked more repulsive than it does on this remastered disc. It caused quite a stir here in England when the BBFC removed a portion of the nastier footage for its X certified cinema release, only for the film to find itself placed on the banned list when the video came along (Vipco famously released its ‘Strong Uncut Version’ just prior to the ban and the tape became a real collector’s item for a long time). It may not shock crowds accustomed to the likes of Hostel but it’s no doubt visceral material - Fulci and de Rossi pulled no punches. The undead monsters here are very slow movers but they seem none the less potent for it, attacking in increasing numbers to a point where survivors are virtually overwhelmed with nowhere left to run. Mood is fleshed out by Fabio Frizzi’s cool score too, a man who graced many an Italian genre film including several other Fulci projects. Ian McCulloch and Tisa Farrow (Mia’s sister of course) seem to be having a good time here while the film’s success launched Fulci into genre notoriety, especially as he went on to direct a number of other great nasties for De Angelis like House By The Cemetery, New York Ripper and indeed The Beyond.

Zombi 2 has an intricate history on home video. Following Vipco’s eventually barred attempt to permit the masses access to the uncut beauty it remained unavailable for years in Britain until a couple of heavily censored editions appeared on VHS. After several good Laserdisc releases around the world a sliced DVD materialised from Stonevision but it was Anchor Bay in the US who released an uncut DVD (under the title Zombie) which seemed like a blessing ten years ago but now looks contextually messy. It was then announced that Media Blasters were putting out the definitive version of the movie on disc (under their Shriek Show banner) and following a long wrangle with Blue Underground eventually a deal was reached where they both released the film - MB with a second disc of extras and BU without, but both with effectively the same transfer. And what a transfer! Grain has been minimised, colours are bold (possibly too bold - I found turning down the colour setting a couple of notches gave a more natural appearance), detail is very good, and contrast excellent. We were spoiled for sound options: both Italian and English versions in original mono, stereo, and 5.1 choices for each language. I think in this case the English track works better due to the location and the fact that a couple of principal English-speaking actors dub their own voices. The 5.1 tracks aren’t too artificial as they keep much of the audio localised across the front three speakers, hence they’re relatively respectful to their source (there’s only so much you can do with these old soundtracks anyway). On the MB set there’s a 98 minute documentary that warrants some commendation for its creators, having tracked down just about any living entity who had been involved with the project. The movie itself was just a job to many of the participants and that comes across here, but the documentary effort has to be acknowledged. There’s also a commentary track (Ian McCullouch) ported over from the old Anchor Bay disc, plus some trailers and other bits. Simply, if you want the extras go for the Shriek Show, if you don’t then go for the Blue Underground (note that the SS retains the original Italian title). I’ve read that the latter is progressive while the former is not but I noticed no incidents of combing whatsoever even watching it on a 75” screen so nothing to worry about. Packaged in a lovingly designed cover and slipcase this DVD set was a godsend and the crowning achievement in the Media Blasters cannon.