I first came across the Spanish 1973 film, Horror Rises from The Tomb, as an n’th generation VHS cassette in the 90s and after a couple of viewings pretty much consigned it to the backend of my video shelf, though I suppose opinion is never helped when something is cut, cropped and looking more questionable than government manifestos. So the digital age arrived, matured, and in 2007 BCI/Deimos released a significantly improved version of a film that I had condemned to being crap, but behold, it received a few good reviews prompting a personal re-evaluation… So, decades on from its production, how does Carlos Aured's El Espanto Surge De La Tumba hold up? Hugo, Maurice and girlfriends are chatting away one evening when the subject of a respected medium arises and they decide to go visit the woman, for a bit of a joke in the case of Hugo in particular. Knowing about the legend of a medieval sorcerer, Hugo’s ancestor Alaric, who was killed for his sins centuries before (which we get to see in the prologue), Hugo facetiously asks the medium at the séance to call forth Alaric's spirit, which of course she appears to do. The maligned ancient spirit reveals where his severed head and body are buried hoping that the reintegration of them will restore him to physical life, released from the netherworld which he is forced to wander in ethereal limbo. Hugo decides to take his friends on a mission to do just this, all of them heading up the mountains to a decrepit castle where they get the servants (!) to dig up half of the castle grounds looking for the separated body parts. Of course, once the inherently hostile Alaric is recomposed by a hypnotised/possessed Maurice, along with his lover (a never-sexier Helga Liné) who simultaneously faced the inquisition centuries ago, Hugo and his friends are confronted with all manner of evil occurrences which they find themselves unable to control or escape from.
This is not necessarily superior film-making if perceived from a conventional perspective; Spanish horror exists in a universe of its own, much like the Italian equivalent but different again. Despite a tendency towards talkiness, there are classics hiding beneath dirty stones for those willing to rummage, notably Satan’s Blood and The Vampire’s Night Orgy for example. Jacinto Molina (AKA Paul Naschy) was sort of the king of Spanish horror if ever there was one but his films were often variable in quality, while his acting ability sometimes limited - put it this way, he‘s no Peter Cushing. In spite of this, his perennial passion for this kind of material shines brightly, almost compensating for any shortcomings, alongside the fact that he wasn’t afraid to throw in copious amounts of gore and nudity to shock or titillate where relevant. Though his work is hardly the epitome of originality, usually being a strange concoction of other people’s ideas (probably a side effect of writing films like El Espanto... in two days), it's as if he imagined how a Universal monster movie might have appeared had the studio injected it with visible bloodshed and female flesh, then making something that approximated that ideology. Sometimes he was egocentric (often playing principal dual roles, one good and one evil as he does here) and manifested his fantasies on screen (he brushes off beautiful women or takes them as he pleases), but he was a likeable fella who contributed much to exploitation cinema and remains loved by many for both his persona and work. His usual formula is adopted for El Espanto…, taking elements of witchcraft, vampirism, reincarnation, zombies (the latter resulting in the film’s best, if brief, sequence) and grinding them together to produce a world where almost anything goes, however it’s as schizophrenic as this may sound.
Hugo (Naschy) is, when it comes to the supernatural, a stereotype non-believer who is about to have his fixed perspective twisted way out of shape as the rebirth of his ancestor brings about doom to everything around him. One particular aspect of this film I really like is the setting: driving off into the mountains they’re pretty much isolated from the rest of mankind and almost seem to have entered another sinister dimension where they become incarcerated. Their car is hijacked and ruined during the trip and they’re forced to buy an old banger from some locals which looks more like a hearse - Hugo manages to see the bright side of this incident! From there they realise that they’re trapped in/around the castle with limited rations and a growing threat to their lives as terrible things begin happening around them. Hugo is himself the catalyst for all of this, first as he insists on summoning forth his ancestor at the séance, then when he drags his friends on a weekend adventure that will only lead to devastation, though considering Maurice seems to be bowing to the influence of demonic infiltration himself even before the trip, perhaps it isn’t entirely Hugo’s fault after all: Alaric may be exerting influence beyond the grave or maybe it’s simply uncontrollable fate at work. Referring to the previous comment about female flesh, there are some incredibly beautiful women omnipresent in this movie and this is part of the appeal I’m not remotely ashamed to say! Clothed scenes were filmed for less tolerant markets (included as an extra on the BCI/Deimos disc) and are comparatively boring once you’ve seen the ‘proper’ (export) version, the main presentation of the disc. Leading up to a fantastically downbeat climax El Espanto… thrives on its own rules and is consequently very enjoyable.
Several releases on DVD existed, primarily in the US: Brentwood once put out one of their typically messy discs, followed by Crash Cinema’s SE which compiled several versions of the film; cut, uncut and clothed. The prints used weren’t of a high standard (the uncut version faring the worst) plus the audio tracks were English dubs only, however the fact that Crash had brought together all of this material together was commendable. BCI/Deimos effectively trumped that one with the uncut unclothed version being presented on their DVD, which I picked up in 2008 and have enjoyed ever since. It boasted a pleasing 1.85:1 anamorphic image with savored options to listen in either English or Castilian (English subtitles available) - a major bonus. There’s also an audio/text commentary, a nice introduction by Naschy himself, some extensive liner notes and one or two other titbits rounding out a fine set. I must comment on the BCI/Deimos cover designs: I think they were perceptively conceived and really attractive on the eye. With this series of Spanish Horror releases, the company were an exceptional contributor to DVD horror back in the boom days. Additionally, the book-style menu designs were among the most imaginative ever put on to disc, I still love them. Considering the film here is an odd but highly likable entry from the Spanish seventies/eighties cycle (now probably my favourite period), this DVD is well worth adding to related collections.
Note that this DVD was technically superseded in 2017 by Scream's Blu-ray set (The Paul Naschy Collection, Volume 1), although that package contained, I believe, transfers from the same High Definition masters that BCI prepared, thus that collection of films did not contain the traditionally enhanced Blu-ray viewing experiences that for me warranted upgrading. The Volume 2 collection is more relevant, containing as it does several Naschy films that I personally found harder to obtain (at least in decent versions) until the set arrived.
