In another (better) time, smoking cigs in hospitals was a completely normal, almost encouraged thing to do. Now, every day we strive further and further from the light.Listen, I love giallo films. I love the stabby stabby red paint and the boobs and the outrageous music and the often nonsensical interconnectedness of the plot’s twists and turns. But every now and then, I need something new. That same formula starts to feel worn no matter how many times Eddie Fenech incinerates me with her vixen eyes. So, how can we fix that? This shit right here.Give me a giant castle as the setting. Give me a killer in a billowing bright red cloak. Give me the threat of paranormal activity. Give me family curses, prophecies, and unclear lines of inheritance. Give me a maniacal laugh at the end of each murder scene. Give me hidden agendas and a plot so interwoven that there has to logically be a minimum of 3-4 killers otherwise the perpetrator really is a fucking ghost. Give me all of that, and you have whetted my appetite to the point of gluttony. Oh, you want to add in flooding a room to the point where the release of the water brings forth a tidal wave powerful enough to kill someone? Cheers, homie.Big shoutout to my guy Alessandro for bringing this fire flick to my attention!Best of: Classic Italian Horror
