Hercules in the Haunted World
(Ercole al centro della terra, 1961)

Mario Bava

Italy

82 min, color, Italian (English subtitles)

Review © 2006 Branislav L. Slantchev

More correctly titled Hercules at the Center of the Earth (literal translation of the Italian title and the title the Fantoma DVD sports on the print), this film is precisely what one expects from a 1960s Italian Sword & Sandal outing loosely (very loosely) based on Greek mythology and involving a guy with bulging muscles, an inexplicably upbeat sidekick, and a thoroughly anti-funny comic relief. In short, your reaction the film will be determined by the expectations your bring with precision of a millionth of a percent. If you expect somber re-enactment of The Labors of Hercules, you will come away shaking your head in dismay, and that's provided you manage to get through the entire film. If you come to see a worthy subject of MST3K, you would love it, painted sets, bad dialogue, and all.

The ancient Olympic sport of the carriage toss	We are wild and crazy Greeks (plus a woman)

First things first. This is a flick about a guy with lots of muscles who hates, and I mean hates, clothes in any shape, form, or color if they would cover his pectorals. A temporary obstruction of the view of one nipple is permissible. Unless it's the right one. As much as this guy hates upper-torso clothing, nothing exceeds his love for oil: after all, the purpose of not having said clothes is to flaunt a well-oiled upper torso which invites ready comparisons with a well-oiled Caterpillar tractor. Attached to said torso are two appendages which would have been arms had they not have the diameter of a 1,000-year old baobab. Well, as they say, if you have it, flaunt it.

I'm going to stay behind (wink, wink)	This way to the trap... I mean treasure

If this rather stereotypical portrayal of Hercules (Reg Park) does not get your classical juices flowing, there's the glamorous Theseus (George Ardisson) whose chiseled face should be getting something flowing (and I say this as a perfectly heterosexual male). This guy spends most of his time cavorting with women looser than Indian slots. At least they are invariably pretty. Unfortunately, for the whoring sluts that they are, their attire is decidedly modest. In fact, they are more covered than Theseus (nobody could wear less than Hercules and appear in a G-rated film.) If naming a guy Theseus does not satisfy your yearning for display of erudite scholarship, there's also Telemachus (Franco Giacobini) who never achieved manhood in myth or in this film. I guess he's supposed to be the comic relief as if one was going to be serious between episodes of Hercules throwing around medium-sized carts and Theseus declaring his readiness to descend even to Hades as long as he can fix his coiffure first.

It may be dumb, but Lee is still IT	Would not be Bava without the awesome mise-en-scene

The one serious note appears in the form of Christopher Lee who plays the evil (what else?) Lico. On second thought, Lee is an entire chord on account of his ominous haircut and his somewhat sinister tendency to hang out in crypts, summon the forces of darkness, hypnotize pretty women (some evil points subtracted for not taking advantage of them in said vulnerable state), and generally plot to take over the entire cardboard set, including the painted moon. Of course, the chord is in minor because he does not seem to be able to hatch the simplest plot without incorporating an obvious weakness that is sure to spoil the effort. But what would you expect from a guy who worships a goofy mask? Naturally, all his minions are incompetent.

Medea, the handy hintline to the gods	The underworld is made of cardboard

It is Lico who hypnotizes Princess Deianira (Leonora Ruffo) who happens to be the betrothed of that guy with the muscle under-vest. How do we know? He says so: "It is I, Lico, who did this and that." He says that a lot. No reason. He just likes being grammatically correct and verbally pompous. You can't very well have a villain who goes "It is me, Lico, who, like, did that." (Cue in maniacal laughter, sadly missing from these proceedings.) So Lico wants to steal the kingdom by dispatching Hercules on a fool's errand to recover some crystal from the Stygian marshes down under (Hades, not Australia, even if the ambient is similar). As befits any quest worth its drachma, there are some other small tasks to perform on the way. So after a brief but tumultuous consultation with Medea (in a very cool, almost Spartan in its simplicity, set), Hercules collects Theseus and, for no discernible reason, Telemachus, and off they go on the trip of a lifetime.

Aretusa of the Hesperides	Greek myth revisionism: Procrustes made of stone?

They have to endure buckets of water on a replica of a small vessel of unidentifiable origin while the even smaller prop bravely cleaves the ripples of water in an aluminum wash basin. This and some swirling ink across the painted sky later, the trio ends up at the Garden of the Hesperides. What? Sunlight for the plants? We don't need no stinking photosynthesis! While Hercules battles some chlorophyll-challenged big tree and manages to simultaneously succeed and fail until he decides to throw rocks at the problem, his companions wander into another deviant interpretation of Greek legend.

Damsel in serious, but kinky, distress	The perils of the hero business: Stygian mud

This time it's Procrustes. And his bed. In this version, two beds. Why two beds, you ask. I do not know, I answer. The famous Procrustean bed is of that special construction that ensures it never fits anyone who lies in it: it is either too short or too long. I.e., it is made in Britain. Since this prop would be too expensive to make and because there are two, count 'em, two people to fix simultaneously, Bava opts for two beds although I still think that a double-decker bunk would have been hilarious. But that's not the problem: Procrustes being made of stone is the problem. Actually, Procrustes walking around with the agility of the Robot from Lost in Space is the problem. OK, I take it back. The Robot had much more motility. This was more like the Robot on a depleted lead acid battery. With a 2-ton cement ball attached.

Eloping to Vegas	Your chest is so... DD

The truth is, however, I am a sucker for painted sets. They are especially appropriate for this type of fantasy film and I quite enjoyed it. Of course, to make matters more bizarre, Bava throws in some corpses who cannot quite make their minds if they want to be zombies or vampires. So they resort to flying, or, given the obvious wires from which they are suspended, acrobatic circus performances. It's all quite complicated because they have to swing this way and that, and somewhere in mid flight suck Hercules' blood, which turns out to be quite tricky even with Hercules helpfully standing in precisely the right spot. He eventually gets so tired with these dudes (who somewhat inexplicably lose their levitation skills just when they most need them) and starts hurling stones at them. That's what he's particularly good at. Throwing. Stones. At. Things. Solves. All. Problems. Especially when accompanied with monosyllabic grunts that express the entire gamut of emotion from sadness over the muddy loss of his sidekick to sexual arousal experienced, among other things, at the sight of his betrothed or a new brand of oil.

Obligatory damsels in distress... again	Hey, lady, it is I who designed this joint!

Even with all the goofiness afoot, it is impossible to forget that one is watching a Bava film. The sets are luminous, washed in strong primary colors, with streaks of light piercing the copious amounts of fog. Clever set compositions and wide camera angles ensure that this particular fare would tend to the artsy more than it does to the schlocky. Even the wooden performances of Hercules and Theseus are bearable, especially when one ignores them and concentrates either on the set design or on would-be King "It was I who stole every scene I was in" Lico. The music must have been forgettable because I have already forgotten it. At any rate, this is one film children would probably love (but watch out for the PG-13 sexual innuendo).

Hercules attacked by low-flying zombies	I will now poke you to death with my wire-knife

I watched the DVD from Fantoma and it is awesome. The video is presented in 2.35:1 OAR, and is anamorphic. What's better, it has the original uncut European version instead of the lame butchered dub that used to float around this side of the pond. Both the English and Italian dubs are available, and both are decent. I watched the Italian version with English subtitles. I mean, "Ercole!" sounds so terribly cute, I couldn't pass it. Of course, this one also comes with the superior score by Armadno Trovajoli. Overall, an excellent transfer, with vivid colors, this is one of the best Bava DVDs I have seen. The extras are pretty limited despite the nice selection of posters and stills (plus liner notes by the ubiquitous Tim Lucas and a trailer).

July 7, 2006