Heading Towards October - Bava (Black Sabbath)

When "When a Stranger Calls" came out in 1979, its iconic scene where the babysitter is tormented by a psychopath who eventually gets in the house and kills the children, many were quick to point to other films that beat it to that punch, including a television film called "When Michael Calls" (1972) and "Black Christmas" (1974). But Bava's The Telephone in "Black Sabbath" is also very much a story that carries that premise of a tormentor using a telephone call to psychologically rattle a young woman except it has its own unique twists and turns, with fans of the giallo thriller pointing at it as a precursor to what would soon be a genre in Italy that remains quite popular to this day. Bava, of course, even when the setting is modern Italy at a certain luxurious abode for a model, he colors the setting in rich tones, decorates the whole place exquisitely, and even offers a surprising lesbian angle within the subject matter (an escaped killer is on the loose and the model's former lover pretends to be the man she had arrested). While not as sleazy and violent as the giallo would eventually become, The Telephone still has some familiar tropes we are accustomed to such as a strangulation, a stabbing, betrayal, and a beautiful woman frightened into action when a threat presents itself.

But the bread and butter of this particular film will almost always be considered The Wurdalak, set far in the past, with a family awaiting their patriarch (Karloff, as intense and sinister as any villain he inhabited previously) to return from a hunt for a vampire. That vampire bit Karloff, leaving him to eventually turn into the very thing he always hated. This tale didn't give us a happy ending at all. This is the tale that truly is Bava at his very best. Dreamlike, with a present wind on the soundtrack, a cabin containing Karloff's family, and Damon arriving puzzled by a body he found with a dagger in it. Damon, heading for somewhere else when traveling through, inadvertently arrives into a nightmare he couldn't have anticipated. A countryside desolate and practically empty, a history of vampire murders that has left the area a reminder of the lives lost, trees absent their lush green, a backdrop ominous and removed of anything remotely vibrant, Bava transports us yet again to a time and place in dire need of sun and spring. That Karloff's family wouldn't put him down after the five days he was gone, customary time where vampirism takes control, and plainly seeing he wasn't the same in personality and physical appearance, their undoing wasn't a big surprise. He's very much madeup to be as menacing as possible. They just couldn't do it. And they joined him as a wurdalak. Karloff sure knew how to use light in darkened places, especially fireside flames. And lurking about inside and outside the cabin, Karloff, through Bava's lens, is quite a monster. There's really no wonder "Black Sabbath" has been heralded. This wurdalak deserves to join the ranks of Karloff's rogue's gallery. His wurdalak is quick to kill his favorite dog and little grandson!

It's hard not to enjoy a good ghost haunting. Or a spirit of the mind, the guilty conscience, how greed and taking advantage can return to run havoc on your mental state. If you think a dead woman--who held seances and supposedly obsessively communicated with the dead, with even a table with scattered tarot cards--could pursue a nurse due to having a ring taken from her finger, A Drop of Water does offer that as a possibility. Bava has this very present green neon light blink in and out through a window of the nurse's home. Even when her power goes out and she must light a candle, the green light in and out doesn't stop; if anything, the light highlights parts of the house where the candle's light doesn't shine. The dead woman is just a mannequin with a freaky frozen fixed expression and boney-finger hands reaching out but I love this concoction as a ghoul that seems hellbent on giving the nurse the same heart attack she suffered. The drop of water from faucets, the pesky fly that seemed to follow the nurse from the dead woman home (clearly, she lived with little care about keeping her digs tended to with any great attention), the cat crying meow that also follows the nurse home, and eventually the dead woman's "presence" are all gimmicks used by Bava to torment the nurse, gradually driving her mad, eventually leading to a manual strangulation. These structures in Bava films often look as if they were once quite opulent and elegant with time and disregard visible. I love that. Musky and disheveled residences wallpapered and decorated to look as if some tender loving care could repackage them. And yet despite all that Bava can color them and create one portrait after another scene to scene. 

And the end, Bava, with a playful Karloff still in Wurdalak garb on a fake horse, pulls back the curtain just a bit to show you how he can make something that looks so atmospheric and eyepopping through movie magic...magic that includes stage hands with tree branches, a fog machine, and a light stand. It's a fun little insight into how Bava could take what appears to be these little techniques that seem so insignificant and create a setpiece because he was an artist. Movie magic is often tricks using the budget available to you. Bava did that and gave us much.