Paganini Horror (1989)
Desperate for a hit single, Kate (Jasmine Maimone) and her all-girl rock band acquires a piece of unpublished music by Niccolò Paganini – the 19th Century composer said to have sold his soul to the Devil. They hire an isolated villa to record the music and shoot a video, but end up opening a gateway to hell and conjuring the ghost of Paganini, who stalks and murders them with his bladed violin.
Written and directed by Luigi Cozzi (The Black Cat), and co-written by Daria Nicolodi (who also portrays Sylvia, the caretaker of the mysterious villa), Paganini Horror is an obscure Italian schlocker that combines tropes of the Haunted House film with supernatural slasher cinema. Its central premise of a rock band playing forbidden music which opens a portal to hell, firmly places it in the realms of Heavy Metal horror, sitting alongside cult titles such as Trick or Treat, Black Roses, The Gate and Rock and Roll Nightmare. Heavy Metal horror is a filmic sub-genre that emerged in the eighties, a time when Satanic Panic in America gave rise to the belief that heavy metal posed a real threat to the morals of its listeners. Filmmakers tapped into and exploited the feverish backlash against the perceived diabolism and corrupting influence of heavy metal. Cozzi and Nicolodi's screenplay references this alleged diabolical influence and highlights the commonalities between heavy metal music and horror cinema, particularly in terms of censorship.
Heavy metal has long held associations with the occult, from its aesthetic inspirations (pentacles, devils and witches, oh my!) to the rumours of satanic messages hidden in songs that have plagued the genre since its inception. With its roots firmly planted in the blues tradition (which was at one time referred to as the Devil's music), it has a history of legends and tales of dalliances with the devil – perhaps the most famous of these concerns the king of the Delta Blues himself, Robert Johnson, who was said to have sold his soul to the devil. At the heart of Paganini Horror is a band desperate for fame and fortune, and they appear to be willing to do anything to obtain it. Enter Donald Pleasence in a barmy cameo as the shifty Mr Picket, who may or may not be the devil himself ('Perhaps I have a thousand names'), and who sells the unpublished Paganini score to the band. As he flings the money he received for the score from the top of a tall tower, he refers to the fluttering notes as 'little demons', and intones to no one in particular that 'What happened with Paganini can happen again...'
Working with an obviously low budget, Cozzi attempts to inject style and atmosphere into proceedings, deploying lots of stalking POV camerawork typical of Italian horror, and indeed American slasher movies, at this time. However, he lacks the visual flair of, say, Argento or Soavi, and mainly utilises a tacky music video aesthetic - all billowing drapes, gaudy lighting and rippling dry ice. The sluggish pacing and (unintentionally) camp tone hinder his efforts to muster tension. Where he does excel is in his creation of a deeply claustrophobic atmosphere, as he uses weird lighting and filters to almost stifling effect, and the action rarely moves beyond the inside of the boarded up villa.
Throughout the murky screenplay, some fascinating ideas ripple to the surface... Nicolodi's character Sylvia helps set the scene and create intrigue, telling her guests that the villa is known locally as the House of ‘G’. The musical note 'G major' is sometimes referred to as the 'people's key', as it is one of the most commonly employed keys across Western classical and popular compositions. The piece of music the band are going to record was written by Paganini for ‘a secret sect that held mysterious ceremonies at night.’ Sylvia also reveals that Paganini made a deal with the devil at the villa, and in order to create the unique sound that would bring him fame and fortune, was instructed to murder his bride and fashion strings for his violin from her intestines - the strings forever playing her screams of terror and anguish. Chilling stuff. We also learn that the villa sits on the doorway to a hell dimension, and exists outside of time and space. The cosmic horror of HP Lovecraft is evoked – particularly his story Dreams in the Witch House - when the band discover that Paganini is bound to our world through esoteric magic incorporating mathematics and science.
“Mathematics is just like music. Music is five lines and seven circles, the notes, and with these elements you can get all music. From Bach, to Paganini, to your songs, Kate. The old scientists thought that the universe was founded on the musical spectrum, which they called ‘the harmony of the spheres.’ And now the new scientists, through their enormous radio-telescopes have discovered that the old theories were right. Stars in their revolutions make their own sounds, which makes for incredible music.”
Yikes!
Weird symbols and equations appear on the walls of several rooms and the band discovers a series of underground tunnels that seem to fold back on themselves, along a trail of blood and gore, always ending at the beginning. One character becomes infected by a strange mould that only grows on the wood used to make violins. From time to time dead or missing band members are glimpsed throughout the vast and sprawling villa, which is revealed to be surrounded by an invisible wall, standing outside of time and space. These are all intriguing ideas, but as the narrative lumbers on, they are left frustratingly unexplored. There is no rhyme or reason to discoveries made or conclusions drawn. Kate eventually discovers that they have to play the music backwards to break the cycle of horror and madness they’re trapped in.
With its outlandish revelations, campy tone and myriad undeveloped ideas, Paganini Horror is an entertaining schlock-fest, and a garish ghost-train ride for fans of weird Italian horror.
