Curse of the Devil [1973]

Several of you have asked me when I'd finally get around to reviewing a movie with Paul Naschy playing his signature role of tragic werewolf Waldemar Daninsky. I feel like I've kept you waiting long enough, and now I'll reward your patience with my thoughts on the 1973 entry into the Daninsky Cycle, "Curse of the Devil." "Curse" finds Paul Naschy working with Carlos Aured, who also directed the Naschinator in his giallo-inspired outing "Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll" and strong contender for Tenebrous Empire Fave, "Horror Rises from the Tomb." Aured captures a darker, grislier Naschy than frequent collaborator and director Leon Klimovsky, whose films play like ultra-groovy, frantic fantasies ("Vengeance of the Zombies" and "Werewolf Shadow"). "Curse of the Devil" finds Naschy brooding with the best of 'em in a story that favors fatalistic tragedy over zany set pieces.

"Curse" is a period piece set sometime... well, sometime after the Rennaissance Faire Period and before the Flapper Years--most likely in what I can safely dub the Hammer Films Era. The film opens with a bang-up flashback, showing Irenius Daninsky tracking down and executing the Satan-worshipping Bathory clan and all those who serve them. Wasting no time at all getting to The Good Stuff, we get to see Daninsky in a full suit of armor clashing with Count Bathory on horseback before administering the killing blow. "I shall be your exorcist, not with a crucifix--but with a sword!" proclaims Daninsky in the English-dubbed version. I generally prefer watching movies in the original language, but the English dub on this film is just so deliciously over-the-top that I have to show it some love. After a quick outfit change into a fresh and equally-awesome suit of armor, Daninsky forges onward to capture Elizabeth Bathory and her minions during their black mass ritual of human sacrifice. Now, moving back to that AMAZING English dub track--let's take a moment to savor Daninsky's exclamation upon entering the chapel: "Seize all those women! Righteousness shall win. Bitches, I'll see you all in chains!" GODDAMN! I think I'm going to go practice saying that in front of the mirror. Making proclamations such as this to a Bathory in a Naschy vehicle is a pretty foolhardy course of action, and Daninsky really oughta know that he's going to bring down a curse on his descendants by talking that way. Naturally, the witch throws down the hardcore mojo hand on the Daninsky bloodline shortly before her (surprisingly speedy and actually kinda painless) immolation, and it's time to fast-forward to The Future. Or to the Hammer Films Era. To the time when the meat of the story takes place, at any rate.

Beefy-yet-melancholy nobleman Waldemar Daninsky (yes, that Daninsky) has brought down the wrath of a group of gypsies by accidentally shooting one of their sons while hunting. These gypsies are connected to the Bathory lineage in some way that I'll confess is unclear to me and therefore waste no time in bitchslapping poor Waldemar with the curse of werewolfism. He falls in love with gypsy girl Ilona (whose boobs he does not touch--there is no Naschy boob-grabbing in this film, a fact that I found highly alarming; I suspect an agent was so fired), who seizes the first possible opportunity to give him one hell of a wolf-skull-inflicted titty twister. Heartbroken at having the first woman he's loved (!!!) betray him in this manner, Waldemar has horrible nightmares filled with gory murders.


Oh--did I mention the axe murderer who's on the loose? Well, there's an axe murderer on the loose! This just would not be a Naschy film without some delightful kitchen-sink aspects, and this story tosses in an escaped looney with an ax to season the already heady brew of Satanism and werewolfery. Evil Ilona (if ever a bitch deserved to be in chains, it's her) isn't out of the Daninsky manor for five minutes before she stops to rest and is summarily dispatched by the mad killer. The axe murderer turns out to be a handy-dandy plot device that allows Waldemar to go on his KILLCRAZY RAMPAGES during the full moon without arousing suspicion, since the townspeople blame the escaped lunatic.

Nursing his murderous-gypsy-enduced heartbreak (to make no mention of that whole "werewolfism" thing he begins to think might be going on), Waldemar meets Kinga, the young daughter of an engineer sent to survey the Daninsky lands, and her slutty and also-probably-crazy-and-therefore-HOTT sister Maria. Unable to resist the beefy charms of the trachten-wearing, brooding nobleman, the sisters compete for Waldemar's affections. I'm a bit confused as to why Maria is cast as the trampy sister when Kinga is Equally Easy, but c'est la vie Eurotrashfilm, n'est ce pas? Naschy wolfs out on Maria when she tries to seduce him, and thus begins the real downward cycle of the tragic werewolf. Cue the stream of melted-wax gore effects, wolf leaps, and curtain-ruining that we're all so familiar with.

Let's face it--the Waldemar Daninsky films are made up of the same elements, rearranged slightly into new films. But... somehow I don't mind. They're TOTALLY AWESOME cliches--damsels in distress, tragic heroes, doomed love, bandits, Satanists, pitchfork-toting peasants, gypsies... Name ONE BAD THING from that list--I dare you!





One of the things that seems consistent throughout Naschy's movies is the weird sense of time. Most of these films feature a plot that revolves around the cycles of the moon, and yet these cycles are oddly unpredictable. Does this movie take place over the course of three days, two weeks, several months? This oddly obscure sense of time proves disorienting and adds to the fantastic nature of the story, rather than detracting from it.

The special effects are charmingly hokey throughout--again, this is in no way a detrement. When working with such old-school material, it's only Right and Proper that we should get tempera-paint red, opaque blood and awesome time-lapse werewolf transformations. As to the werewolf--well, he's... kinda cuddly and teddy-bear-ish. And I wouldn't want it any other way, dammit!

Scenes set in the countryside are unusually beautiful; saturated greens and tall, ancient trees make for a pitch-perfect backdrop. Some of the interiors are well-appointed, too, such as the gypsy's cave. The realness of these places sets the movie apart from some similar films that favor indoor sets over location filming.




It's a real shame that the US release of this film had strange marketing tie-ins. Why compare such an old-fashioned film to "The Exorcist" and "Psycho?" Those aggressively modern titles share little with this film, and it's both inaccurate and unfair to set up such a comparison.





Check out the Flickr gallery of stills from "Curse of the Devil" right here.