Tombs of the Blind Dead

Showering down after a swim Betty (Lone Fleming) notices her old friend Virginia (Elena Arpon) lying by the pool and goes over to say hello. Roger (Cesar Burner) emerges from the pool and, despite Virginia's attempts to dissuade him, invites Betty to join them on their camping trip the next day.

On the train Virginia is clearly troubled by Betty's presence and, after a flashback showing that they were once lovers – with Betty the dominant partner in the relationship – hops off the train near the village of Berzano. Betty and Roger try to get the driver to stop but, obviously knowing something they do not, he continues on regardless.

After exploring the village and finding no one else around Virginia decides to set up camp for the night in the ruins of the monastery. Soon, she is attacked by dessicated, shuffling, shroud-wearing forms and, following an extended horseback chase, is run down…

With their friend failing to appear in the morning, Betty and Roger hire horses and head into Berzano where they encounter a couple of policemen who have been alerted to Virginia's disappearance and already found her body. At the morgue the coroner reports that Virginia was not sexually assaulted but bled to death from what appear to be bite wounds inflicted by half a dozen assailants. He speculates a ritual murder, which Roger finds difficult to swallow in this day and age.

The coroner was, however, correct: Virginia was killed by the blind, skeletal forms of Medieval knights Templar whose devil worshipping has given them immortality and a need/craving for human blood…

Although suffering from a slow pace, awkwardly structured narrative and a lack of real shocks, Tombs of the Blind Dead makes up for these weaknesses with a strong atmosphere – aided immeasurably by the ominous, repetitive score that combines a monotonous kettle drum beat with sepulchural chants – some effective set set pieces, including a Mario Bava style pursuit through a unnaturally lit dummy workshop, and the sheer creepiness of the Blind Dead themselves.

The overall impression, nevertheless, is that of watching a skilled craftsman at work rather than a genuine visionary maverick. Or, to put it another way, writer-director Amando De Ossorio looks to have more in common with a Terence Fisher than a Jesus Franco. That is, he comes across as someone who found a felicitous medium in the horror/fantasy genre comparatively late in his career – rather than naturally gravitating towards it from the outset – and who was perhaps not altogether comfortable – at this point at least – with the cultural forces he had unleashed.

As with Fisher – who famously balked at the crude rape scene he was compelled by Hammer management to insert into Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed – Ossorio's sticking point looks to have been the more sexually oriented material. Certainly there is a noticeable contrast between his handling of the violent and gory scenes, such as a sadistic breast slashing ritual that illustrates the practices of the Templars, and the somewhat circumspect nature of the sapphic scene, shot in tasteful soft focus and with the participants remaining fully clothed throughout.

Just as it is hard not to read racial and Vietnam subtexts into George A Romero's Night of the Living Dead, no commentary on Tombs of the Blind Dead would be complete without some speculation as to the film's political aspect as a coded critique of the fascist dictatorships that existed in Spain and Portugal at the time of its 1970 release. The Blind Dead are, after all, relics of a past age – read the dictators Franco and Salazar – who cling to power through the blood of the living. As they are blind to the modern world, its inhabitants are safe so long as they do not make a noise – read speak out against the regime or otherwise draw attention upon themselves. Perhaps the co-production nature of the film, with Spanish personnel and Portuguese locales, gave those involved some measure of safety by allowing them to explain away anything that didn't go down well with their respective authorities as being the work of the other.

Part Romero in Iberia, part cheap exploitationer, part fascinating historical cultural document, Tombs of the Blind Dead is a flawed yet enjoyable Euro horror entry.

Introduced by a welcome dedication to De Ossorio (1926-96 – thought the IMDB entry for the director gives his years as as 1918-2001), Image and Anchor Bay's Region 1 DVD of Tombs of the Blind Dead is double-billed with its immediate successor, Return of the Blind Dead, with Image being credited for the former and Anchor Bay for the latter.

The film is presented in its original aspect ratio of 1.66:1 and, while certainly not reference quality, isn't that bad considering its age and origins. With the dialogue in Spanish, the burned-in English subtitles are legible throughout and devoid of obvious errors.

There are no extras on the disc, when a documentary about De Ossorio's work and its place in Spanish horror/fantasy's development – for example – would have been very welcome.