Cemetery Man

The apex of director Michele Soavi's early gothic horror career, Dellamorte Dellamore is, along with Pupi Avati's L'Arcano Incantatore (1996), one of the finest examples of turn of the millennium Italian gothic fantasy. Overflowing with atmosphere, dark humor and bitter romance, this feature adaptation of author Tiziano Sclavi's Dylan Dog series of comics (indeed, the titular character of the original series was modeled after Dellamorte star Rupert Everett) utilizes the unmistakable legacy of Italian horror forefathers Mario Bava and Dario Argento as a springboard to some of the most memorable and original imagery and storytelling in recent years. Everett's resigned nature and non-blinking acceptance of the horrific events surrounding both Dellamorte and his faithful assistant Gnaghi (standing-in for a clone of legendary comic Groucho Marx in Dylan Dog) lend a surreal touch to the proceedings, and as the plot winds unpredictably towards it's humorously morose existential climax we are treated to commentary on everything from Italian politics to questions of identity and issues of love and obsession. Manuel De Sica's score, a curious hybrid of classic Ennio Morricone and throbbing Goblin excess, offers the perfect auditory accompaniment to the proceedings as our dry-witted protagonist ponders "the living dead and the dead living" and searches to find his place in keeping the balance of life and death in tact. While obviously influenced by the gothic excess of those who came before him, the film nevertheless retains a remarkably personal air of creativity that pointed to great things for the director who once served as second unit director for Terry Gilliam, and Soavi's subsequent withdrawal from filmmaking left many fans thirsting for more. ~ Jason Buchanan, All Movie Guide