7/22/25

Blood Capsule #313 (Special Edition)

What's a Special Edition?  It's a series where I review one of my favorites.  These are films that would appear in my Top 50 or so (if I endeavored to compile such a list).

CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD (1980)

I need to rewatch The Beyond to make it official, but I'm fairly confident that City of the Living Dead is my favorite Lucio Fulci film.  It was my first Fulci experience, and in retrospect, I'm surprised that I took to it as readily as I did.  I was still new to Italian horror.  I could have easily been put off by the haphazard dubbing, though it should be noted that the dubbing isn't that bad.  By the same token, I could have been dismayed by the lack of a linear story.  But no, I didn't have to check my enthusiasm at the door.  I kinda-sorta love the fact that it dares you to dream up a coherent synopsis.  It's almost plotless in the same way that Seinfeld is a "show about nothing."  Of course, things do happen, but Fulci is a miserly chap when it comes to the tendons, the fibrous tissue between the events that transpire.  Out of context, we see a priest commit suicide, we see a fecund zombie tear its way out of the earth, and we see poor Catriona MacColl scrape the lid of her coffin as she is buried alive.

In context, these images still manage to stand independently of one another.  Fulci initiates a volley of "greatest hits" that refuse to be shaped into a traditional three-act structure.  All of this mysterious merrymaking (??) is wrapped in gobs of atmosphere.  I rate atmosphere as City's best quality.  It's certainly Fulci's strong suit.  The climax is a carousel of headstones, festered flesh, and enough mist to dress the sets of two Hammer films.  And yet, I can't award this rotting epic a perfect rating.  In terms of characters, I'm really only partial to MacColl.  Then you have the ending, which no one can seem to rationalize.  I still rank City of the Living Dead above Zombie and House by the Cemetery.  No one is asking, but my second favorite Fulci dish has got to be Don't Torture a Duckling.  How did I get this far without mentioning the entrail regurgitation or the industrial drill lobotomy?

Truly, this movie is a gift that keeps on giving.



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