In New York, Dr. Norman Boyle assumes the research about Dr. Freudstein of his colleague Dr. Petersen, who committed suicide after killing his mistress. Norman heads to Boston with his wife... See full summary »
The members of an expedition in search for the last faithful of Kito, the cannibal god, land on a small island in the Moluccas (East Indies) and are soon hunted by cannibals and zombies, ... See full summary »
Alexandra Delli Colli,
Robert Miles is a psychic that can communicate with the dead. He also has the ability to control the mind of his cat (who incidentally is black). He uses the cat to take vengeance upon his ... See full summary »
A young rich orphan loses his fiancée to voodoo doll mischief on the part of his housekeeper who is jealous of his attentions. He digs his girlfriend up, cleans her out, stuffs her, and ... See full summary »
A Canadian archaeological team in Sicily accidentally unleashes vengeful ghosts of five demonic nuns whom were murdered 500 years earlier and the ghosts now set out to kill the group and townspeople alike.
Dr. Lucio Fulci is a director of splatterfilms. He stages a gestapo-orgy like it was any other movie scene. But he is influenced by these things more than he likes. He is hunted by bloody visions day by day. Is Fulci still normal? He asks a psychatrist. He doesn't know that the psychatrist has much bigger problems than Fulci himself. The psychatrist uses Fulci's visions for brutal murders in real life... Written by
Matthias Luehr <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Forget THE BEYOND--CAT IN THE BRAIN is Lucio Fulci's masterpiece. If Dario Argento is the John Ford of Italian splatter cinema, the lyric poet and publicly acknowledged grand-master, then Fulci was surely its Howard Hawks--the caretaker and solid storyteller who knew how to sink a hole in one with the easiest flick of the wrist. Splatter-geeks somehow seem to have dismissed this picture with a contemptuous shrug--maybe it's too highbrow and "conceptual" for their red-meat tastes. In a stroke of daring even Fellini and Michael Powell never tried in their self-reflexive classics, Fulci plays himself--or rather, a particularly tormented and increasingly unhinged version of himself, driven mad by the combination of guilt and bloodlust triggered by making hyperviolent horror movies. "Fulci" wonders whether he is responsible for a string of gruesome murders breaking out around him...and the movie's combination of a fiendish, id-driven love of cinema, and a shuddering revulsion at its consequences, makes this for me the most painful and personal of all movies about moviemaking. The author's conflicting emotions are played out as nakedly as in VERTIGO or BLOW OUT--only this movie has the illicit fun of its grindhouse origins. Horror afficianados may have given this picture the high hat, but I know it has at least one fan...Jean-Luc Godard.
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