THE GATES OF HELL
(Swish) BALL!
I'd hafta chalk this one up as another ball. (I don't even watch baseball, yet I insist on using baseball metaphors) It had a lot of delightful gross-out moments, and a sort of "chaotic" sense about it that was appealing on some levels (and annoying on others), but overall, I thought it was pretty middling and missed out on a lot of opportunities.
The biggest mess up, for me, was the priest's suicide. There's a reason why you never hear about priests killing themselves...because suicide isn't exactly smiled upon by the Catholic church. Neither are a lot of things that some priests do ;) but at least with those, they can get themselves forgiven before they keel. With suicide, WHOOSH! Straight to hell for you, Father. Anyway, what would be so ghastly that it would drive a priest - a priest! - to commit suicide? What sort of future was he avoiding that the near-certainty (at least from his perspective) of eternity in Hell would be preferable? What great potential for a horror story there is in that. But this ain't that kind of horror story...this is the kind that would rather show you maggot storms and chicks hurling their innards.
And, yes, I liked the vomiting chick, and I liked the maggot storm, although I thought the drill bit (get it? drill bit?) was a letdown. (note: Fulci claimed that this scene, which consists of a man pushing a big drill through another guy's head, is a commentary on fascism. Yeah, and my last bowel movement was a commentary on county music.) I also liked the drunken townsfolk in the bar, and the bombastic moment where that one zombie leaps down from a bridge and looms over the kid.
But overall...bleh. It's one of those "Oh, the horror!" movies which just kind of expects the audience to gasp in terror at every unpleasant image thrown at them, when some of us are sitting there thinking "Wouldn't this be a lot more interesting if there was a reason for any of this happening?" It's often been said that Italian horror is often structured around the anti-logic of a nightmare, and this movie certainly seems to illustrate this point. But nightmares never scared me. In fact, I usually wake up from them smiling, wishing I could go back.
I didn't finish this movie smiling, and I don't really have any desire to see it again...and yet, I don't think it was particularly poor. Just...disagreeable. Italian horror is growing on me a little, but Fulci isn't a reason for it so far. One last thing I did like about this one - the simple riff on the classical guitar that appeared from time to time in the score. The more "disco" bits of the score were awful, but this was terrific.