Tombs of the Blind Dead (1971)
Director/Writer: Amando de Ossorio
Cinematographer: Pablo Ripoll

Hello, and welcome back to Art That Frightens Me. In case you missed the first installment, this is a new, ongoing series of looks into the deep, dark world of cult cinema. Suggestions are welcome (thank you, Patrick Ripoll, for your Red Meat suggestion, I’ll be writing about it sooner than later), and anything goes, really.

Before we get into today’s entry, just a quick word about spoilers. Generally speaking, I’ll be staying away from spoilers, especially major ones, in case you haven’t seen the film. If I talk about something that seems spoilerish, it’s probably something you can see coming from miles away. But, still, if you’re like me and enjoy watching movies without knowing what’s coming, then just take a quick glance at what we’re takling about here, go rent the movie, then come back and read this when you’re done. Sound good? Okay, on with the show.

Here’s the quick and dirty of the Blind Dead series, of which Tombs of the Blind Dead is the first of four and a major influence on zombie horror and Italian cinema at the time. They were all written and directed by Amando de Ossorio. And they are about zombie Templar knights.

Let me state that again another way: ZOMBIES ON HORSES.

At the top of your Netflix queue now? I thought so.

The film starts like all good zombie movies do: in a swimming pool. Two old school friends run into each other, conveniently have nothing to do for the next couple days, and decide to take a trip with some guy to a resort on a mountain. And, like all really good zombie movies, the two women were sorta lesbians back in the day. Maybe? I don’t know. They show the required “sexy flashback where everyone is dressed in white” make out scene, but it’s never brought up again and doesn’t really have much emotional bearing on the rest of the film. So forget I told you about it.

One of the girls get jealous, jumps the train, and runs off to an abandoned castle/town. This is always a good idea, and something I highly recommend doing when visiting Spain. You should follow this woman’s example by starting a campfire indoors, taking off your clothes, and reading while listening to the radio. I also suggest following her friends’ examples and not bothering to go looking for someone who does this until at least a day or so later.

The plot is silly, it doesn’t matter how we get where we’re going or why. We just want to see some Blind Dead here. It takes its time getting there (a full ten minutes of this woman walking around the ruins, opening doors and things, and nothing occurring as a result), but I was happy when it did.

The Blind Dead (once again, Templar Knight zombies, OMG!!!!!) are far cooler than I had even hoped. Seriously, it sounds cool? It’s way cooler. On first glance they may seem a bit lame, mainly because they are extremely slow. I mean slower than slow. Any slower and they would be moving backwards. Really, really, really slow. Even the horses move in slow motion. This, however, is amazing. See, the story goes- explained a little later in the film- that these Knights were sadistic, devil-worshiping nutsos who would kidnap virgins, torture them, then drink their blood. The Pope had them all killed and then birds ate out their eyes. Which is awesome, by the way.

So what you’re dealing with here are zombies that don’t need you at all. They’re not feeding off of you. You can’t empathize with them (it’s not most undead folks’ fault, they are hungry!). They are simply out to cause you as much pain as possible, then maybe suck out a little of your blood in your dying moments. That’s it. Pain is the only motivation. They’re not Tmad. They enjoy this. They don’t even need to see you. They’re blind. They will hear you (and their hearing is fantastic, as evidenced in the film’s best moment, fright-wise and cinematically speaking). They’re not in a hurry, either. Zombies are traditionally slow, but the complete lethargy of the Blind Dead tells you everything you need to know about them: “We are going to get you one way or another. Why rush?”

Oh. And they ride horses.

So I am totally down with this idea of the Blind Dead. These guys are fantastic. Zombie horror isn’t my number one favorite sub-genre, but I like it just fine. The Blind Dead, though? I’m there.

But despite containing some of the better zombies committed to film, I’ll be honest with you here. Tombs of the Blind Dead lost me almost completely midway through, and then finally just made me mad. What happened?

Well, first problem is the film is really uneven. I don’t think that comes as a surprise to anybody, especially fans of horror. Add in the stigma of being one of the first of its kind in its country, and I understand, but it’s uneven in ways it doesn’t need to be. For example, the castle camper from earlier in the film wakes up in the morgue and attacks the mortician. I’m figuring, all right, it’s a zombie movie. Zombies are infectious. But the mortician never comes back. No other victims come back. She just sorta… wakes up. Why does she get to come back from the dead and no one else does? The Blind Dead are just skeletons anyhow. Is this even related to the Blind Dead, or am I now watching a different film? This tangent scene is fun to watch, and well-executive, but ultimately it’s just time filler. It never goes anywhere, and has no relation to or effect on the actual story. This could have been avoided. (Suggestion: more Templar Knight zombies.)

Second is a completely unnecessary rape scene later in the movie. Sometimes rape in horror movies is part of the horror, for one reason or another, and it’s been done correctly on film before. This one, you almost feel like everyone in the film thinks it’s okay but the victim. Pshh. What’s wrong with her? The guy eats it, Templar-style, a moment later, but it’s no excuse for a random sexual assault. I mean really random. A pointless rape scene in a film is almost always a sign of “we don’t really know what else to do at this point, we could either kill a child (and we’ll get to that momentarily) or just rape some chick” and it shows here really bad. Another time filler, just a more yucky one.

And last, but certainly not least, is the child on the train in the final scene. (If you don’t want to know, skip the next couple paragraphs, but it’s really not ruining anything at all.) The Blind Dead board a passenger train and take out all of its occupants. Okay, this is cool. I like this. Until the director decides to focus on a small child in her mother’s arms as her mother’s blood drips down, in copious amounts, onto the girl’s head.

Now seriously, I’m not a prude about this stuff. But there is nothing scary or necessary about this at all. This child is in two shots, total. There’s no build up. We have no idea who this is. It’s just a girl, on a train, looking genuinely frightened as stagehands dump red liquid onto her face. Trying to throw a little more shock into the film at the last moment ruins both the scene and almost the movie. The zombies ride horses, this is supposed to be fun. Blood on a random child’s face for a couple moments is not scary, it’s not fun, it’s cheap.

Whether Tombs of the Blind Dead is effectively creepy or not, the Blind Dead themselves are a good, scary idea, even if only in theory. But cutting randomly to a child in actual terror like this, with no connection- in tone or in plot- to the rest of the film, turned my stomach in the worst way possible. Bad idea. Ossorio’s just lucky this came at the very end of the picture, or else I doubt I would have finished it.

The second of two shots of this girl, however, shows a skeleton hand reaching over to touch her. She does not die on screen. In fact, I’m not positive she dies at all. Maybe, just maybe, the Blind Dead don’t get off on little girls. However, this is never made explicit, so it’s open to interpretation (especially if you haven’t seen the first sequel, but maybe we’ll get to that another time). But even if they were trying to make some point about how the Blind Dead aren’t after children, they did it in the worst way possible.

All that brings up a good discussion question. When does the whole “children in terror” angle stop working and become abuse, fictional or otherwise? I certainly think it’s difficult to pull off at all. The question of whether it’s ever necessary is a completely different one. Where is a child’s place in a horror story? Kubrick’s Shining does it well, as do other films. But how many thrillers now can get by without quiet, creepy little kids in this post-Sixth Sense world? Can you even think of one that doesn’t have one? Is it a cheap scare? “Oh, child in peril! Oh!” Or can you do it effectively, with relevance to the story, especially if you’re not explicitly trying to tell the story through a child’s eyes?

Overall, Tombs of the Blind Dead is a great idea that fails in many ways that it can. The Blind Dead are fantastic (and the only reason really worth watching, though the second film in the series, Return of the Evil Dead is sort of an improvement). I know the film has a lot of fans out there, and it’s definitely worth a viewing. But for now, just know that if you’re going to make a zombie movie, putting them on horses would be a good decision. Having them kill a mother holding a young child for literally no good reason? Usually a bad decision. I hope you’ve learned your lesson, class dismissed, see you tomorrow.

Buy Tombs of the Blind Dead from the incredibly wonderful, “how did I ever live without these guys?” Blue Underground!
Or, if you’re feeling really adventurous, buy the entire Blind Dead collection in a fancy, badass coffin box!