Spider Labyrinth (1988)

Something about how this film started had me thinking, "Aw god, why the hell am I bothering to watch this? I could be watching a quality film. This film is probably obscure for a reason." The main thing that held my faith that it might be good was a name I spotted in the credits: Stephane Audran. WTF? THE Stephane Audran, one of the greatest actresses in the history of cinema, the star of every one of Chabrol's masterpieces and indeed Chabrol's wife? Yes, that Stephane Audran. I'm so glad I kept watching. Thanks, Stephane Audran!

I'm not the gushing type, and certainly I've seen much better films, yet I want to gush. You know how you have indulgent films from time to time that purport to be grand homages to certain eras of horror--like, say, Van Helsing? And you know how those films tend to suck--like, say, Van Helsing? Well, this one is one of those except it really doesn't suck at all. Spider Labyrinth is an homage to all Italian horror up to that point and it is a glorious homage, never parodical, always measured with just the right level of restraint, indulgent but not self-indulgent, out-there without being stupid.

The plot is pretty much The Wicker Man meets Lair of the White Worm. A professor of oriental languages is working on a Europe-wide project deciphering some script from possibly the most ancient religion ever (or something like that). The best researcher working on the project has suddenly stopped communicating, so our professor protagonist is sent out to Budapest to find him. There he discovers all the locals behave mysteriously and he's given hints by a man in the street that they're not planning on letting him leave--ever. As the professor investigates to figure out what's going on, his major leads keep getting murdered before they can help him--murdered by a hissing, growling, insect-like witch with superhuman strength (http://www.cinema-nocturna.com/spiderlabyrinth1.jpg).

This murder angle gives all the giallo elements for which you could ask. Now, before each murder, the witch tosses a black ball into the room. This trope is a direct allusion to Mario Bava's Kill Baby Kill. The creepy old hotel and the lighting therein are to my mind clearly referencing Argento's work in Suspiria and Inferno. In fact, our own Coventry says in his review that "THIS should have been the final chapter in Dario Argento's Three Mothers trilogy!" There's definitely some Fulci influence in there as well. I've also seen others call it Lovecraftian, and I suppose it is to some extent--if The Wicker Man had been written by Lovecraft.

If you're still not convinced: The last fifteen minutes has a giant spider with a toddler's head. Need I say more?

Definitely recommended for anyone who likes crazy, unrestrained horror films that are really earnest about being a horror film and for Italian horror buffs.
8/10