A bit of film history, folks:
A quick search of Google.com states that filmmaker Lamberto Bava reached the height of his commercial and critical success on the Italian scene during the 1980’s; and – lo and behold – it was at this time when producers hired the storyteller to make four telefilms that would serve as the foundation for an all-new television anthology. And why not? Bava had just completed Demons (1985), Demons 2 (1986), and Delirium (1987) – a Horror trifecta that won over audiences and clearly established his particular style of cinematic paranoia along with immersing viewers into such dark plights imaginable. Breaking out of the shadow of his father’s footsteps – the much-lauded Mario Bava – here the son was trying to expand the genre by both returning to basics and ratcheting up the realism. Giving him the opportunity to continue to explore such haunts on television probably seemed like a good idea at the time, but hindsight – as they say – is always 20/20.
What happened was that Bava produced content that broadcasters found these four installments – The Prince Of Terror, The Man Who Wouldn’t Die, School Of Fear, and Eye Witness – a bit too shocking, a bit too graphic, and a bit too over-the-top for their regular viewing audiences. As a consequence, the titles fell into obscurity as some do, some seeing the light of day with limited releases on home video (VHS) here and there. Languishing as either bootlegs or choppily edited fodder, the stories were mostly forgotten except by a few who continued to champion whatever airings they could muster. It was about as grave an oversight that’s ever happened; but now, thankfully, circumstances have changed.
Severin Films has once again come to filmdom’s rescue.
Plucking these features from obscurity, the distributor has put together High Tension: Four Films By Lamberto Bava for everyone’s consumption. It’s a four-disc Blu-ray set – along with an accompanying CD Soundtrack reflecting these flicks and others from the greater Bava catalogue – and it’s set to hit the marketplace in late August 2025. They’ve gracious provided me with an advance copy, so over the next few days or so I’ll be making my way through such filmic goodness, sharing my thoughts and observations on these true originals.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
A quick search of Google.com states that filmmaker Lamberto Bava reached the height of his commercial and critical success on the Italian scene during the 1980’s; and – lo and behold – it was at this time when producers hired the storyteller to make four telefilms that would serve as the foundation for an all-new television anthology. And why not? Bava had just completed Demons (1985), Demons 2 (1986), and Delirium (1987) – a Horror trifecta that won over audiences and clearly established his particular style of cinematic paranoia along with immersing viewers into such dark plights imaginable. Breaking out of the shadow of his father’s footsteps – the much-lauded Mario Bava – here the son was trying to expand the genre by both returning to basics and ratcheting up the realism. Giving him the opportunity to continue to explore such haunts on television probably seemed like a good idea at the time, but hindsight – as they say – is always 20/20.
What happened was that Bava produced content that broadcasters found these four installments – The Prince Of Terror, The Man Who Wouldn’t Die, School Of Fear, and Eye Witness – a bit too shocking, a bit too graphic, and a bit too over-the-top for their regular viewing audiences. As a consequence, the titles fell into obscurity as some do, some seeing the light of day with limited releases on home video (VHS) here and there. Languishing as either bootlegs or choppily edited fodder, the stories were mostly forgotten except by a few who continued to champion whatever airings they could muster. It was about as grave an oversight that’s ever happened; but now, thankfully, circumstances have changed.
Severin Films has once again come to filmdom’s rescue.
Plucking these features from obscurity, the distributor has put together High Tension: Four Films By Lamberto Bava for everyone’s consumption. It’s a four-disc Blu-ray set – along with an accompanying CD Soundtrack reflecting these flicks and others from the greater Bava catalogue – and it’s set to hit the marketplace in late August 2025. They’ve gracious provided me with an advance copy, so over the next few days or so I’ll be making my way through such filmic goodness, sharing my thoughts and observations on these true originals.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“The Master of Terror is the director Vincent Omen, originally from Romania, who made his fortune by directing horror films. He lives with his wife and daughter in a beautiful, isolated villa. But when he gets writer Paul fired, strange things start to happen. While playing golf, the ball disappears, returned home the garage door is blocked, receives a mysterious phone call and during the dinners with the guests there is no light, a small fire breaks out and he finds the golf ball lost in the afternoon. Do they just want to scare him? And who?”
I’ve remarked before that there are some films in Horror that are difficult to talk about to a great deal because some element of the plot needs to remain hidden or else the experience itself can be destroyed. For example, damn near the entire cinematic library of M. Night Shylaman is nearly off-limits critically because – in order to dissect a good deal of the action – one has to practically spoil the ending. In other words, once you know what’s happening then the magic of what came before gets examined differently; and The Prince Of Terro kinda/sorta falls into that same category. When you know who the true Prince is, you look back at the film differently than when you didn’t realize there was a secret identity … so – ahem – buckle up because it will be very strongly hinted at.
Famed Horror director Victor Omen (played by Tomas Arana) is in the midst of shooting a zombie picture when he realizes that the script from his longtime contributor Paul Hilary (David Brandon) just doesn’t work. Exasperated over the way the film’s big sequence is proceeding, he calls a halt to the action and gives Hilary an earful on the set, warning him that their partnership has come to an end and a new screenwriter will be conscripted to fix the narrative mess. The producer (Pascal Druant) ties to intervene, but before the scene is over it’s very clear that Omen will have nothing more to do with the scribe if it’s the last thing he does.
After a round of golf to wind down, Omen heads home, where his wife Betty (Carole André) has prepared their estate for a business dinner with the producer and the actress Magda (Marina Viro) he’s currently bedding. However, the evening comes to an abrupt ending when a golf ball – one emblazoned with the numbers 666 that Omen had lost on the course earlier that day – smashes through the window and plunks down onto the dining room table. The director suspects he’s being delivered some dire message – the threat that he’s being stalked – yet he has no idea of who could be behind such a campaign.
“The Master of Terror is the director Vincent Omen, originally from Romania, who made his fortune by directing horror films. He lives with his wife and daughter in a beautiful, isolated villa. But when he gets writer Paul fired, strange things start to happen. While playing golf, the ball disappears, returned home the garage door is blocked, receives a mysterious phone call and during the dinners with the guests there is no light, a small fire breaks out and he finds the golf ball lost in the afternoon. Do they just want to scare him? And who?”
I’ve remarked before that there are some films in Horror that are difficult to talk about to a great deal because some element of the plot needs to remain hidden or else the experience itself can be destroyed. For example, damn near the entire cinematic library of M. Night Shylaman is nearly off-limits critically because – in order to dissect a good deal of the action – one has to practically spoil the ending. In other words, once you know what’s happening then the magic of what came before gets examined differently; and The Prince Of Terro kinda/sorta falls into that same category. When you know who the true Prince is, you look back at the film differently than when you didn’t realize there was a secret identity … so – ahem – buckle up because it will be very strongly hinted at.
Famed Horror director Victor Omen (played by Tomas Arana) is in the midst of shooting a zombie picture when he realizes that the script from his longtime contributor Paul Hilary (David Brandon) just doesn’t work. Exasperated over the way the film’s big sequence is proceeding, he calls a halt to the action and gives Hilary an earful on the set, warning him that their partnership has come to an end and a new screenwriter will be conscripted to fix the narrative mess. The producer (Pascal Druant) ties to intervene, but before the scene is over it’s very clear that Omen will have nothing more to do with the scribe if it’s the last thing he does.
After a round of golf to wind down, Omen heads home, where his wife Betty (Carole André) has prepared their estate for a business dinner with the producer and the actress Magda (Marina Viro) he’s currently bedding. However, the evening comes to an abrupt ending when a golf ball – one emblazoned with the numbers 666 that Omen had lost on the course earlier that day – smashes through the window and plunks down onto the dining room table. The director suspects he’s being delivered some dire message – the threat that he’s being stalked – yet he has no idea of who could be behind such a campaign.
From this point forward, Prince segways into the main thrust of the plot, a loose hostage yarn reminiscent of The Desperate Hours (1955) but a bit closer in structure to The Strangers (2008): a man invades the Omen family’s idyllic paradise in order to essentially terrorize them initially for purposes unknown. Eventually, the man’s identity is revealed to be Eddie Felsen (Ulisse Minervini) – an actor who was professionally scorned by the director in a previous project – and we learn he’s worked in concert with Hilary, who shows up on the scene to announce the evening’s events are meant to exact a form of revenge for him, too, being jilted by his former partner.
Structurally, the narrative works to put the entire Omen family through a series of jeopardy, the lion’s share of which ties to having the man of the house utter defenseless while forced to watch what Felsen and Hilary do to the wife and daughter. Betty – a former actress – was supposed to have some sex scene with Eddie in an earlier project – a sequence that apparently Omen had removed for obvious reasons – and this hostage situation gives the actor the chance to make good on that old script in more ways than one as well as with threatening to sexually violate the daughter. Sure, it’s all very Cape Fear (1991), but those bits aren’t handled with the kind of nuance a director like Scorsese employed. There’s still a great degree of restraint, but the implications of rape are clear on two occasions.
Director Bava keeps all of the action moving efficiently, staging the usual heightening of tension with protracted sequences of faceless villains moving about the house broken up by manic sequences of Omen and his wife running to the aide of their young daughter. Because this is Horror, there are a few bloody bits thrown in for good measure – the fate of the family dog is equal parts gory and (ahem) funny – and the practical effects work about as good as anything else did back in the day. The script attributed to Ira Goldman and Dardano Sacchetti knows what it is and where it’s heading, often utilizing a good degree of homage to things done theatrically before mostly because it’s a movie loosely poking fun at the entertainment industry and the folks who work in it; so, I encourage viewers to watch for those bits that serve as callbacks to other flicks.
Where I struggle with defining Prince as a bad, good, or great picture is the fact that – even as the title suggests – there’s a concealed identity here working on a few levels, so much so that come to big reveal one might find the secret a bit distracting.
Structurally, the narrative works to put the entire Omen family through a series of jeopardy, the lion’s share of which ties to having the man of the house utter defenseless while forced to watch what Felsen and Hilary do to the wife and daughter. Betty – a former actress – was supposed to have some sex scene with Eddie in an earlier project – a sequence that apparently Omen had removed for obvious reasons – and this hostage situation gives the actor the chance to make good on that old script in more ways than one as well as with threatening to sexually violate the daughter. Sure, it’s all very Cape Fear (1991), but those bits aren’t handled with the kind of nuance a director like Scorsese employed. There’s still a great degree of restraint, but the implications of rape are clear on two occasions.
Director Bava keeps all of the action moving efficiently, staging the usual heightening of tension with protracted sequences of faceless villains moving about the house broken up by manic sequences of Omen and his wife running to the aide of their young daughter. Because this is Horror, there are a few bloody bits thrown in for good measure – the fate of the family dog is equal parts gory and (ahem) funny – and the practical effects work about as good as anything else did back in the day. The script attributed to Ira Goldman and Dardano Sacchetti knows what it is and where it’s heading, often utilizing a good degree of homage to things done theatrically before mostly because it’s a movie loosely poking fun at the entertainment industry and the folks who work in it; so, I encourage viewers to watch for those bits that serve as callbacks to other flicks.
Where I struggle with defining Prince as a bad, good, or great picture is the fact that – even as the title suggests – there’s a concealed identity here working on a few levels, so much so that come to big reveal one might find the secret a bit distracting.
Scaring people silly has been said to be the Devil’s business; and – yes – that’s what we do learn about one character. He is the definitive Prince of Darkness, but he’s taken human form for no reason disclosed. (I won’t say which, but I’ll not be surprised if you’ve already figured it out without having seen this one.) Once you know what you know, if you’ve put any measure of thought into the story then you’ll likely find yourself asking, “Why? Why would the Devil – arguably one of the universe’s most powerful beings – allow himself to be subjected to such chicanery at the hands of mere mortals?” While there is a possible answer or two or three, that impasse gets in the way of Prince’s ending perhaps being as impact or as moving or as inciteful as Bava probably intended. Was he – Lucifer himself – just screwing around for giggles? Or was there some deeper motivation in mind? You’re left to decide … and it was something that I just couldn’t reconcile.
Quibbles aside, Prince is still a rather good picture.
Allegedly produced as a telefilm for Italian television but intended for possible theatrical distribution aboard, it looks respectable, has an impressive cast, and makes use of exceptional production details to weave what minor spell it conjures. (There are some great props from Bava’s previous efforts used in Omen’s personal study, and they’re wonderful to gawk at.) No, the torture sequences aren’t really all that striking or elaborate – something that the Saw franchise has redefined for the modern age – but the talent manages to give all of it just enough gumption to make them as real as they need be. The daughter – Susan Omen (Joyce Pitti) – feels somewhat miscast only so much as the role feels and sounds like it was written for a much younger actress: given the repeated nature of the sex and violence, Bava and producers likely decided instead on a young(ish) teenager to fill those shoes without reworking the dialogue, and it definitely (sometimes painfully) shows.
The downside to being almost entirely committed to the world of Giallo – as some might suggest Bava was (though I think they’d be wrong) – is that, inevitably, the stitches on even the best thrown fastballs begin to show. It’s hard to keep any genre (or subgenre) fueled by freshness and originality, so by the mid- to late-1980’s even an auteur as respected as he may have been likely struggling to bring anything new to the table. Thankfully, Prince is far more semi-conventional Horror than it is pure Giallo (as is a great deal of the storyteller’s output); and the film succeeds even though it sticks mostly to some predictable thrills and chills while offering a bit of twist in the closing moments. It isn’t a grand reveal – certainly not as big as Hollywood competitors would’ve staged with bigger and bolder theatrics – and it might have viewers rethinking some of what came in the first half to see if they might’ve missed some of the possible clues sprinkled lightly along the way.
Quibbles aside, Prince is still a rather good picture.
Allegedly produced as a telefilm for Italian television but intended for possible theatrical distribution aboard, it looks respectable, has an impressive cast, and makes use of exceptional production details to weave what minor spell it conjures. (There are some great props from Bava’s previous efforts used in Omen’s personal study, and they’re wonderful to gawk at.) No, the torture sequences aren’t really all that striking or elaborate – something that the Saw franchise has redefined for the modern age – but the talent manages to give all of it just enough gumption to make them as real as they need be. The daughter – Susan Omen (Joyce Pitti) – feels somewhat miscast only so much as the role feels and sounds like it was written for a much younger actress: given the repeated nature of the sex and violence, Bava and producers likely decided instead on a young(ish) teenager to fill those shoes without reworking the dialogue, and it definitely (sometimes painfully) shows.
The downside to being almost entirely committed to the world of Giallo – as some might suggest Bava was (though I think they’d be wrong) – is that, inevitably, the stitches on even the best thrown fastballs begin to show. It’s hard to keep any genre (or subgenre) fueled by freshness and originality, so by the mid- to late-1980’s even an auteur as respected as he may have been likely struggling to bring anything new to the table. Thankfully, Prince is far more semi-conventional Horror than it is pure Giallo (as is a great deal of the storyteller’s output); and the film succeeds even though it sticks mostly to some predictable thrills and chills while offering a bit of twist in the closing moments. It isn’t a grand reveal – certainly not as big as Hollywood competitors would’ve staged with bigger and bolder theatrics – and it might have viewers rethinking some of what came in the first half to see if they might’ve missed some of the possible clues sprinkled lightly along the way.
The Prince Of Terror (1996) was produced by Hamster Productions, La Cinq (La 5), and Reteitalia. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I’ll still attest that the provided sights and sounds are pretty damn exceptional: the packaging insists that this has been scanned in 2K from the original camera negative and this is the first time the production has been given an English-language track. (Impressive, indeed!). Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a commentary track from Nathaniel Thompson and Troy Howarth that’s respectably chatty throughout but having listened to Thompson before many times he still speaks far too quickly for me to understand a great deal of what he’s saying. There’s also two interviews with Bava himself, the better one being “We Call Him Maestro” where he gives a nice bit of insight into this film in particular as well as the cast and crew. A good assortment.
Recommended.
Though The Prince Of Terror may not have the kind of rewatchability I prefer in productions, I did actually enjoy it visually more when I sat through it again via the audio commentary. As a director, Bava definitely had a way with visuals, vividly staging several bits much like some of his contemporaries or even American counterparts would do and yet none of it feels derivative. While the story may not have been as fresh, there’s still as aesthetic here that fires on all cylinders – with a few blemishes – making Prince not so much ‘regal’ as it is just plain ‘royal.’ If this is truly its worldwide launch on disc, then there’s no better reason to watch something that harkens back to when Horror worked very hard to stick the landing before computer wizardry took hold of the industry … and everything gets rendered in post.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a physical Blu-ray of The Prince Of Terror (aka Il maestro del terrore) (1988) as part of their High Tension: Four Films By Lamberto Bava release by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. This contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Recommended.
Though The Prince Of Terror may not have the kind of rewatchability I prefer in productions, I did actually enjoy it visually more when I sat through it again via the audio commentary. As a director, Bava definitely had a way with visuals, vividly staging several bits much like some of his contemporaries or even American counterparts would do and yet none of it feels derivative. While the story may not have been as fresh, there’s still as aesthetic here that fires on all cylinders – with a few blemishes – making Prince not so much ‘regal’ as it is just plain ‘royal.’ If this is truly its worldwide launch on disc, then there’s no better reason to watch something that harkens back to when Horror worked very hard to stick the landing before computer wizardry took hold of the industry … and everything gets rendered in post.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a physical Blu-ray of The Prince Of Terror (aka Il maestro del terrore) (1988) as part of their High Tension: Four Films By Lamberto Bava release by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. This contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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