Sodoma's Ghosts (1988)

Come the '80s, Fulci wasn't too keen on logic, internal or otherwise. Or at least, if there is internal logic, it's much more internal than anyone is likely to get; a logic that exists only in Fulci's brain, now eaten by zombies in an Italian graveyard. Sodoma's Ghosts belongs alongside House by the Cemetery, The Beyond, and City of the Living Dead for generally working on a level beyond, or beneath, logic; it has the same sort of arbitrariness to the events.

Six college students go driving through the French countryside. The driver, goofing off, takes a shortcut, which lands them at some abandoned, but strangely well-kept mansion in the woods, where, we saw in an introductory sequence, some decadence Nazis having a party with some whores were bombed into oblivion. They stay the night, as it's getting dark, enjoying the vintage wines, food, and old records; then they try to depart the next morning, but find they can't leave. The house doors seize shut, the windows won't break, and they begin experiencing hallucinations and feelings of aggression. The plot is more or less a clothesline on which to hang strange imagery (a decaying body erupting with black sludge) and suspenseful setpieces (a protracted Russian roulette game).

I'm not sure why Sodoma's Ghosts is so loathed. It's just like Fulci's hell gate trilogy, except without the gore. The various tensions and relations amongst the characters, their weaknesses and their desires, are exploited by the ghosts, leading up to the climactic moment returning to the bomb. What happens then I won't spoil for you, but it leaves a lot of questions in one's mind, much like the end of The House by the Cemetery.

There are even some moments of brilliance, such as when a Nazi lines up a shot and hits a pool ball at a woman's vulva, the house is bombed at the very moment the ball would be hitting the 'pocket.' The second explosion is also keyed to a moment of entry. This is what I mean about Fulci working at a level different than narrative logic.

Overall, I think this is quite a good instance of Fulci's later career and the unusual, intuitive approach he took to storytelling. It feels like he got his hands on the script for a French arthouse film and did some rewriting to make it a Fulci film. It won't please the gorehounds and the end will love some dissatisfied, but it's still a provocative supernatural horror.

Bonus points:
Gratuitous Wagner
Lesbian seduction using flowers
Nazi orgy
Some beautiful girls, especially Teresa Razzauti
Breasts caving in