Mario Bava’s BLACK SUNDAY (THE MASK OF SATAN) is a crown jewel in the world of gothic horror. Its cinematic depiction of dark poetry and stylish sadism made it one of the most influential of all European horror films, and it seemed to be the one all others aspired to (along with Terence Fisher’s HORROR OF DRACULA, made shortly before this). British actress Barbara Steele imbues her portrayal of the vampire/witch with a demonic majesty never before brought to the screen. Indeed her skeletal, high-cheekbone facial features, a landscape of puncture wounds with wild, thick lips (promising the joys of eternal Hades) are forevermore a landmark symbol of 1960s Italian Horror, of which she would become the queen of. The maestro’s landmark maiden voyage now sees its way to Blu-ray disc, courtesy of Kino Lorber.

In the 17th Century, Moldavia is a land of twisted barren trees surrounded by thick fog and ubiquitous gloom. Princess Asa (Barbara Steele) of the aristocratic Vaida family and her serf, Javutich (Arturo Dominici), have been found guilty of witchcraft and acts of sorcery. Asa's own brother, the Grand Inquisitor, sentences both to death at the stake. As a bronze mask lined with sharp spikes is placed up to her face, Asa curses her brother and his descendants for the centuries to follow. Scores of robed priests carrying torches observe as one massive blow from a sledgehammer strikes the mask, impaling the witch to the stake. An attempt to set the two ablaze is thwarted by the fury of a sudden nocturnal storm, as the priests carry off the bodies of the two heathens for burial. Two centuries later, Dr. Kruvajan (Andrea Checchi) and his young associate, Dr. Gorobec (John Richardson, ONE MILLION YEARS B.C.) are on their way to a medical convention when their carriage breaks down in front of a ruined chapel. Inside they discover an ancient crypt with a stone tomb illuminated by moonlight. Kruvajan's inspection of the sarcophagus reveals the body of Asa the witch still wearing the devil's mask. A huge bat flies out from the darkness and attacks the doctor as he beats it with his cane, damaging the tomb and shattering a window recessed in its lid. He wounds his hand, allowing blood to flow onto the empty eye sockets of Asa's corpse. After the doctors exit the crypt, the blood starts reviving the cadaver.

At the castle of Prince Vaida (Ivo Garrani), the family patriarch sits in fear with his daughter Katia (Steele, as the mirror image of her ancestor, Asa) and son Prince Constantine (Enrico Olivieri) since it’s now the anniversary of the execution of Asa and Javutich and the one day in which Satan supposedly walks among the living. Back in the crypt, Asa summons her undead lover Javutich to rise from the grave, still covered with the devil's mask as he emerges. His rotting shroud falls aside as he pulls the flesh-clinging mask from his face and lumbers off into the night. The undead Javutich abducts Dr. Kruvajan, who is soon beckoned by the dormant Asa to emrace her, as he too becomes a vampire. With Javutich now on the side of darkness and the village in a panic over the recently discovered casualties, it’s up to young Dr. Gorobec to be Katia’s protector, and that’s no easy task when she’s sacrificial fodder to revive her identical vengeful witch of an ancestor.

Beautifully shot in black & white by Bava himself, BLACK SUNDAY is a compellingly chilling classic, and a lyrical nightmare to behold, especially late at night. Bava’s first directorial effort compliments his great talent for visuals, as his camera effortlessly glides through the fogbound soundstages and crumbling, cobwebbed-filled crypt sets. From its opening, sadistic execution scene (imitated in numerous genre films to follow), there’s a string of memorable shots and aura of early cinema gore throughout, some of which had to be trimmed for the American version released by AIP (the film was reportedly banned in England until 1968). Defined by its superior atmosphere and the otherworldly art direction by Giorgio Giovannini, BLACK SUNDAY is no doubt the genesis of the Italian horror cycle and arguably the best of them all.

For this presentation of the uncut European version of the film (which has different English dubbing than the AIP version, the original score by Roberto Nicolosi rather than Les Baxter’s replacement music, and a few extra minutes of footage), the master has been made in HD from a 35mm archival print. Presented in 1080p resolution in the film’s original 1.66:1 aspect ratio (anamorphically enhanced), this is a magnificent looking transfer of an essential horror classic. The shadowy, black and white image boasts deep black levels and solid greyscales, while image sharpness and detail remains excellent throughout, and there is very little in the way of any print-source blemishes. The 2.0 mono audio is more than adequate, with the post-synced English dubbing and Nicolosi’s hauntingly grand score both rendered nicely in the mix.