As we learned from a legendary Monty Python sketch, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. I especially wouldn’t expect it in Italy, but yet there’s the mysterious red-hooded and black-cloaked figure in 1972’s The Devil’s Lover. At least, it sure looks like an Inquisitor. Instead, it is only the devil (Edmund Purdom) dressed as one—so, somebody slightly less evil than a torturer for the medieval-era Church.
This figure goes around the countryside in medieval Italy, appearing and disappearing seemingly at random. The only deliberate harm he seems to do is pursue Rosalba Neri, distracting her from her love for her fiancée (Ferdinando Poggi). The wedding of those two goes ahead, though Purdom has Neri murder her husband with an elaborate ceremonial dagger on the honeymoon night before they can consummate their relationship. Then she goes skipping to the old, desecrated church while weirdly inappropriately jaunty music plays on the soundtrack. I like to imagine that, if this happy ditty had words, they’d probably be something like “la la la la la/it’s my wedding night/but I’m off to have Satan/plug all my holes.”
The general vibe of this film is like an old fairy tale I’ve not heard before, and of the kind the Brothers Grimm collected back in their original versions, which were far more gruesome than the Disneyfied versions everybody is familiar with today. Perhaps the most shocking scene in the film has two friends of Neri lured into a cave, where they are raped and murdered. There’s also some girl-girl action, which is portrayed as something evil. Curiously, there’s also a vampire there, which means we have a couple of women raped and murdered by a group of people that includes a lesbian vampire. I wonder if this is how some far-right conservatives imagine a typical gathering of liberals to be like.
Other plot elements of the script are more similar to our modern takes on old, dark fairy tales. There’s a poisoned amulet. Neri’s wedding dress is cursed when a figure catches a glimpse of it while peeping through a window.
One aspect of the film I thought would be amazing is the cinematography. Instead, many scenes are filmed in what might be the least scenic parts of rural Italy. At times, I was once again reminded of Monty Python, whose Holy Grail was intentionally filmed in a way that made England of that period look as shitty as possible–and I do mean terrain that would have been constantly littered with shit.
Still, there is the obligatory beautiful old castle, which such movies have led me to believe are still the predominate form of architecture in that country. The medieval storyline is pointlessly bookended by some business in the present day, where Neri and two female friends arrive at the castle. She’s trying to find the truth as to whether the castle was purchased by the owner from Satan. I never knew Old Scratch would stoop so low as to be a Realtor.
I was amused the trio of young(-ish) women arrives at the castle just expecting to be put up for the night, which they are. Their strong sense of entitlement makes me think they would do well in today’s world. I can imagine them as successful social media influencers.
Neri doesn’t find the answer to what she’s looking for, but she still seems satisfied when she wakes up the next morning from a dream that was everything we have seen that happened centuries earlier. One thing I found weird is her two friends also seem quite chipper, though we saw their alter egos in the past, one raped and tortured and the other get branded with a hot iron and her tongue torn out by Neri. I assume that, if Neri had a dream that was really her seeing what had happened in the past, then I assume the other two did as well, and I doubt everybody would be so chummy going forward. Even if they didn’t share the same vision, they still spent the night in a dank old castle, which doesn’t seem great.
As for the performances, this is entirely a showcase for Neri. I suspect she’s not a great actress, but she commands the screen in every frame she’s in. Then again, none of her costars have much presence, so it is easy for her be so noticeable, if only in contrast.
I was surprised this blu-ray comes with a soundtrack CD, as I can’t imagine that having much replay value. There’s one moment that is memorable for entirely the wrong reasons, as it sounds like somebody is playing a pipe organ using their elbows.
A great deal happens in The Devil’s Lover, except it feels like they were just making it up as they went along, with little consideration for sense or logic. When that approach works best, you get something like Suspiria. But, more often than not, you get a feature like this, a mess of elements that try to be mysterious, but which failed to intrigue me. The best of these kinds of film give me something to chew on for some time after. A week from now, I doubt I will recall ever having seen this.
Dir: Paolo Lombardo
Starring Rosalba Neri, Edmund Purdom
Watched as part of the Severin blu-ray box set Danza Macrabra Volume 2: The Italian Gothic Collection