Cemetery Man
From AwardAnnals
| Director(s) | Michele Soavi |
|---|---|
| Subtitle | (Dellamorte Dellamore) |
| Distributor | Anchor Bay |
| Honors | |
| The apex of director Michele Soavi's early gothic horror career, Dellamorte Dellamore is one of the finest examples of turn of the millennium Italian gothic fantasy. Overflowing with atmosphere, dark humor and bitter romance, this motion picture utilizes the unmistakable legacy of Italian horror forefathers Mario Bava and Dario Argento as a springboard to some of the most memorable and original imagery and storytelling in recent years. Everett's resigned nature and non-blinking acceptance of the horrific events surrounding both Dellamorte and his faithful… | |
The apex of director Michele Soavi's early gothic horror career, Dellamorte Dellamore is one of the finest examples of turn of the millennium Italian gothic fantasy. Overflowing with atmosphere, dark humor and bitter romance, this motion picture utilizes the unmistakable legacy of Italian horror forefathers Mario Bava and Dario Argento as a springboard to some of the most memorable and original imagery and storytelling in recent years. Everett's resigned nature and non-blinking acceptance of the horrific events surrounding both Dellamorte and his faithful assistant Gnaghi (standing-in for a clone of legendary comic Groucho Marx in Dylan Dog) lend a surreal touch to the proceedings, and as the plot winds unpredictably towards it's humorously morose existential climax we are treated to commentary on everything from Italian politics to questions of identity and issues of love and obsession. Manuel De Sica's score, a curious hybrid of classic Ennio Morricone and throbbing Goblin excess, offers the perfect auditory accompaniment to the proceedings as our dry-witted protagonist ponders "the living dead and the dead living" and searches to find his place in keeping the balance of life and death in tact. While obviously influenced by the gothic excess of those who came before him, the film nevertheless retains a remarkably personal air of creativity that pointed to great things for the director who once served as second unit director for Terry Gilliam, and Soavi's subsequent withdrawal from filmmaking left many fans thirsting for more.
Honors
Reviews
Amazon.com
If you think you hate your job, think again. Francesco Dellamorte (Rupert Everett), the titular Cemetery Man, lives a lonely life with a dead-end career. He works and resides in a cemetery that holds a dark, hidden secret. You see, those who are buried in Dellamorte’s cemetery have the tendency to rise from the dead. Francesco’s job is to make sure the dead remain dead. When they rise, he must hunt them down and ensure they get their eternal rest. Since his strange career takes up most of his time, there is no room in his life for romance or friendship. His sole companion is his mute, Igor-like assistant Gnaghi (François Hadji-Lazaro). Not surprisingly, Francesco has grown weary of the dull drum and repetitive routine his job and life have become. It is not until he meets the girl of his dreams (Anna Falchi), who happens to be a widow attending her husband’s funeral, that Francesco realizes that there may be more to life than this. Sound a bit odd? Well, it is. But fans of the zombie and the “twentysomething disgruntled worker” genres will feel right at home with this Michele Soavi cult favorite. At its center, Cemetery Man is a black comedy/existential mediation on loneliness and career disappointment. But where Fight Club is entrenched in an action/buddy-flick setting and Office Space is a strict black comedy, Cemetery Man is staged deep in the Italian zombie genre, giving it extra points for originality. —Rob Bracco
