This is one of a number of low-grade horrors with which Lucio Fulci was associated towards the end of his career: it’s actually the fifth I’ve watched (or, to be honest, made an effort to sit through) – following AENIGMA (1987), TOUCH OF DEATH (1988), GHOSTS OF SODOM (1988) and BLOODY Psycho (1989). They’re all terrible and unworthy of his talents (for the record, I’ve got two more of these to check out – MURDEROCK [1984] and THE RED MONKS [1988])…but also an indication of the depths to which the genre (and, by extension, the “Euro-Cult” style) had plunged by the end of the 1980s! Incidentally, the director of this one was the man behind the decent horror flick Satan’S BABY DOLL (1982), recently released by Severin in tow with MALABIMBA – THE MALICIOUS WHORE (1979), of which the former was an inferior remake.
The original Italian title of THE BROKEN MIRROR (a meaningless, generic moniker) translates to the more appropriate DON’T BE AFRAID OF AUNT MARTHA – which, presumably, is intended to evoke memories of the “Whatever” cycle of Grand Guignol-type shockers renowned for having revitalized the career of many an ageing Hollywood diva…but which had gone out-of-fashion some 15 years earlier! Anyway, the narrative concerns the arrival of a family at a country-house (most of these latter-day Fulcis seemed to go this route, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the locations were duplicated from one to the other!) – the property of the head of the family (Gabriele Tinti)’s aunt, who’s supposedly just been released from a lunatic asylum; however, she’s not there to greet them but the mysterious custodian (Maurizio Poli, from Mario Bava’s RABID DOGS [1974]) claims that she’ll be arriving soon.
The catch is that Tinti’s mother had confined the aunt (her sister) in order to appropriate herself of her sibling’s fortune: gripped by a sudden remorse, however, the former jumps out of a window – which has left an indelible effect on Tinti (then still a boy); that said, he doesn’t bother to get his aunt re-instated and makes use of the money himself! Sensibly, Tinti should have stayed away from his (understandably) revenge-seeking relative – but, invariably, the ill-fated heroes of this type of fare turn out to be awfully dumb! Soon enough, the bodies start piling up: Tinti’s eldest son is seen (by the audience but not the characters) mangled and hanging upside down from a tree – for what it’s worth, his introduction is treated as a red herring in an effort to generate some would-be suspense; the good-looking (and frequently topless) teenage daughter is knifed in the shower – which, actually, isn’t too badly done (again, it plays on the fact that, prior to this, she had twice been scared by her younger sibling’s practical jokes); the boy himself is viciously (and gorily) decapitated by a chainsaw; somewhat lazily, then, Tinti’s wife shares this exact same fate – except that the vessel of wrath in her case is the lid of a wooden chest…which makes for one of the most improbable celluloid beheadings I’ve ever come across!
At this stage, I have to mention an implausible turn-of-events: most of the deaths occur in one fell swoop – while Tinti’s gone out to visit the custodian; his wife drops him near the latter’s house, while she herself goes to do some shopping in town. By the time she arrives back home, two of the children have been killed and the murderer lies in wait to do her in too…but, when we cut back to Tinti, he’s just reached the custodian’s house!! It’s possible that this ‘delay’ on his part was intended to throw suspicion of the deeds on Tinti – especially after he ‘discovers’ the bodies propped up at table and Aunt Martha ‘appears’ to him (suggesting a deranged mind)…all of which, however, is negated by the fact that, immediately prior to this, he had stumbled upon five graves outside the house bearing the names of the entire family!
Eventually, it transpires that Poli is the murderer: he had been the lover of Aunt Martha – whose putrefied body he still keeps in the cellar (and on which the camera lingers in revolting detail for an inordinate length of time). The two engage in an extended scuffle, ending with Poli about to split Tinti’s head open with an axe…which takes us back to the very beginning (the journey to the country-house), except that it had actually been interrupted by the family’s car being wrecked in an accident – all its occupants killed but for Tinti (cue Aunt Martha’s voice declaring that his agonies aren’t over yet)! Ugh.
The original Italian title of THE BROKEN MIRROR (a meaningless, generic moniker) translates to the more appropriate DON’T BE AFRAID OF AUNT MARTHA – which, presumably, is intended to evoke memories of the “Whatever” cycle of Grand Guignol-type shockers renowned for having revitalized the career of many an ageing Hollywood diva…but which had gone out-of-fashion some 15 years earlier! Anyway, the narrative concerns the arrival of a family at a country-house (most of these latter-day Fulcis seemed to go this route, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the locations were duplicated from one to the other!) – the property of the head of the family (Gabriele Tinti)’s aunt, who’s supposedly just been released from a lunatic asylum; however, she’s not there to greet them but the mysterious custodian (Maurizio Poli, from Mario Bava’s RABID DOGS [1974]) claims that she’ll be arriving soon.
The catch is that Tinti’s mother had confined the aunt (her sister) in order to appropriate herself of her sibling’s fortune: gripped by a sudden remorse, however, the former jumps out of a window – which has left an indelible effect on Tinti (then still a boy); that said, he doesn’t bother to get his aunt re-instated and makes use of the money himself! Sensibly, Tinti should have stayed away from his (understandably) revenge-seeking relative – but, invariably, the ill-fated heroes of this type of fare turn out to be awfully dumb! Soon enough, the bodies start piling up: Tinti’s eldest son is seen (by the audience but not the characters) mangled and hanging upside down from a tree – for what it’s worth, his introduction is treated as a red herring in an effort to generate some would-be suspense; the good-looking (and frequently topless) teenage daughter is knifed in the shower – which, actually, isn’t too badly done (again, it plays on the fact that, prior to this, she had twice been scared by her younger sibling’s practical jokes); the boy himself is viciously (and gorily) decapitated by a chainsaw; somewhat lazily, then, Tinti’s wife shares this exact same fate – except that the vessel of wrath in her case is the lid of a wooden chest…which makes for one of the most improbable celluloid beheadings I’ve ever come across!
At this stage, I have to mention an implausible turn-of-events: most of the deaths occur in one fell swoop – while Tinti’s gone out to visit the custodian; his wife drops him near the latter’s house, while she herself goes to do some shopping in town. By the time she arrives back home, two of the children have been killed and the murderer lies in wait to do her in too…but, when we cut back to Tinti, he’s just reached the custodian’s house!! It’s possible that this ‘delay’ on his part was intended to throw suspicion of the deeds on Tinti – especially after he ‘discovers’ the bodies propped up at table and Aunt Martha ‘appears’ to him (suggesting a deranged mind)…all of which, however, is negated by the fact that, immediately prior to this, he had stumbled upon five graves outside the house bearing the names of the entire family!
Eventually, it transpires that Poli is the murderer: he had been the lover of Aunt Martha – whose putrefied body he still keeps in the cellar (and on which the camera lingers in revolting detail for an inordinate length of time). The two engage in an extended scuffle, ending with Poli about to split Tinti’s head open with an axe…which takes us back to the very beginning (the journey to the country-house), except that it had actually been interrupted by the family’s car being wrecked in an accident – all its occupants killed but for Tinti (cue Aunt Martha’s voice declaring that his agonies aren’t over yet)! Ugh.