By some margin the best of Fulci's four zombie movies, Paura nella città dei morti viventi succeeds because it has a denser text than the others.
Okay, the dubbing is still chronic and detracts from the piece, but there's more of an arty feel to this one, rather than just a crass sub-Romero exploitation.
It's a relatively complex narrative, made up of psychics, religious texts and an overriding fear of mortality. These undead are not tenpins to be knocked down, as in Zombi 3, but are a mirror image of our own inevitable demise. One particularly unsettling sequence sees a girl buried alive, fighting to get out of her coffin.
The pacing works, too, because even though this suffers from the usual clunky dialogue, there's a slow build-up, adding tension to proceedings. Mind you, a Priest whose party trick is being seen as a hanged apparition is bound to put the willies up anyone. Figuratively speaking, obviously. In fact, it's a touch of genius that sees phantoms mixed with the zombie set-up. Zombies that appear and disappear in your bedroom are far scarier than ones that just amble around like Albert Tatlock on Mogadons.
There are concessions to Fulci's juvenile gore, of course - one girl bleeds tears and then regurgitates her own internal organs before snatching out her boyfriend's brains. And, of course, we get the obligatory impaling scene, this time with an electric drill. It's amazing what Fulci puts his actors through, actually - whether it's showering them with maggots, pushing worms into their face or making an actress swallow and regurgitate freshly slaughtered lamb tripe, he always makes them suffer for their art.
However, there is a slight tendency to imply, not show, here, such as the corpse biting the man's wrist. Okay, we see the blood after the event, but the actual action is played out as a close-up in the man's anguished face. We never even get to see what the three zombies do to the bar owner. Fabio Frizzi's music also adds much to the film in its dated synth-drum machine type way, though its inability to continue from scene to scene does jar somewhat.
The new skills Fulci brought to this project pace, characterisation, an actual plot, of sorts were themes he continued with in his third zombie flick, E tu vivrai nel terrore L'aldilà. Sadly, however, this learning curve was all forgotten when he got behind atrocious sequel Zombi 3 in 1988. Yes, Paura nella città dei morti viventi is more Hammer's Plague of Zombies than Night of the Living Dead, with characterisation and gothic sets taking the place of modern context and visceral thrills. Perhaps the only way it disappoints is in lacking a big pay-off. Instead it opts for a nonsensical conclusion that defies logic.
Okay, the dubbing is still chronic and detracts from the piece, but there's more of an arty feel to this one, rather than just a crass sub-Romero exploitation.
It's a relatively complex narrative, made up of psychics, religious texts and an overriding fear of mortality. These undead are not tenpins to be knocked down, as in Zombi 3, but are a mirror image of our own inevitable demise. One particularly unsettling sequence sees a girl buried alive, fighting to get out of her coffin.
The pacing works, too, because even though this suffers from the usual clunky dialogue, there's a slow build-up, adding tension to proceedings. Mind you, a Priest whose party trick is being seen as a hanged apparition is bound to put the willies up anyone. Figuratively speaking, obviously. In fact, it's a touch of genius that sees phantoms mixed with the zombie set-up. Zombies that appear and disappear in your bedroom are far scarier than ones that just amble around like Albert Tatlock on Mogadons.
There are concessions to Fulci's juvenile gore, of course - one girl bleeds tears and then regurgitates her own internal organs before snatching out her boyfriend's brains. And, of course, we get the obligatory impaling scene, this time with an electric drill. It's amazing what Fulci puts his actors through, actually - whether it's showering them with maggots, pushing worms into their face or making an actress swallow and regurgitate freshly slaughtered lamb tripe, he always makes them suffer for their art.
However, there is a slight tendency to imply, not show, here, such as the corpse biting the man's wrist. Okay, we see the blood after the event, but the actual action is played out as a close-up in the man's anguished face. We never even get to see what the three zombies do to the bar owner. Fabio Frizzi's music also adds much to the film in its dated synth-drum machine type way, though its inability to continue from scene to scene does jar somewhat.
The new skills Fulci brought to this project pace, characterisation, an actual plot, of sorts were themes he continued with in his third zombie flick, E tu vivrai nel terrore L'aldilà. Sadly, however, this learning curve was all forgotten when he got behind atrocious sequel Zombi 3 in 1988. Yes, Paura nella città dei morti viventi is more Hammer's Plague of Zombies than Night of the Living Dead, with characterisation and gothic sets taking the place of modern context and visceral thrills. Perhaps the only way it disappoints is in lacking a big pay-off. Instead it opts for a nonsensical conclusion that defies logic.