Hovering somewhere between haunting past and menacing present, or perhaps even better described as a fever dream leaning more towards a feverish nightmare, the Sergio Martino (The Case of the Scorpion’s Tail; Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key) 1972 giallo All the Colors of the Dark – sometimes known as Day of the Maniac and They’re Coming to Get You! (both titles also work quite well), transports its audience into a paranoid mystery. This Italian film moves abroad to London, England, following tortured Jane Harrison (Edwige Fenech – Strip Nude for Your Killer; Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key), a woman with a rather rough not wholly revealed past.

Well, this is a first. . . watching an exploitative pandemic themed film during a real life pandemic – talk about making the subject matter much more horrifyingly effective! An aggressively edgy Hong Kong feature that deservedly received the restrictive Category III rating (like the dreaded X found in many other places in the world, it means no one under the age of 18 is allowed into theatres to see it), Herman Yau’s Ebola Syndrome (1996) might make your skin crawl in more ways than one. Not for the faint of heart, the piece is centered upon a psychopathic, sex crazed lowlife criminal, Kai (Anthony Chau-Sang Wong) – who likes nothing better than schtupping his crime boss’s younger wife. Unceremoniously interrupted by the big man himself, instead of taking the harsh punishment, he decides to kill his way through man, wife, as well as bodyguard, promptly fleeing the country while leaving one witness behind – the boss’s young daughter, Lily (played as an adult by Chui Ling).

Titane, Julia Ducournau’s second feature film (and the winner of the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 2021), is a bit like a cinematic car – with the disfigured metallic body of David Cronenberg’s Crash, the scary powerful engine of John Carpenter’s Christine, and an interior reminiscent of the essence of French cinema itself (with a hint of late Hitchcock experimentation), this vehicle displays quite the unique package. Living in some sort of dreamscape (that often lingers in a more nightmarish realm), Ducournau embodies the piece with a fantastical essence – like a sleep-induced vision, much of the narrative seems rooted in reality, yet with delusory elements that make us question the supposed corporeality of the story.

A sugar stalker, milk chocolate peeping Tom, juice sucker, and cookie cadaver all mean... well, absolutely nothing, but they sure do sound like they would fit nicely in the 1969 giallo So Sweet... So Perverse, directed by Umberto Lenzi. Inspired by the movie that started the whole twist-ending trend, Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Les Diaboliques (1955), the narrative follows Jean Reynaud (Jean-Louis Trintignant), a wealthy businessman living in Paris. Married to disenchanted Danielle (Erika Blanc), he is more interested in playing the field (from what we hear, so is his wife), rather than spend time in their expansive third floor apartment together.

A bit like Rosemary’s Baby on Viagra – well, not really. . . there’s no way this quickie production could afford anything other than no name brand, 1978's Satan’s Blood, written and directed by Carlos Puerto (uncredited direction comes from producer and horror auteur Juan Piquer Simón), brings horror sexploitation all the way to a bloody climax. It's also a wonderful guide in what not to do in a horror movie:

Building upon ages of vampiric lore whilst finding its own creative place in a lengthy fang toothed oeuvre, Spain’s Count Dracula’s Great Love (1973), co-written and directed by Javier Aguirre, aims for fusing sensuality and sensitivity with a mesmeric gothic atmosphere. . . and let’s not forget some 70s era gore (for good measure). Following a group of four women: Senta (Rosanna Yanni), Karen (Haydée Politoff), Elke (Mirta Miller), and Marlene (Ingrid Garbo), and a male friend, Imre Polvi (Víctor Barrera), they are unfortunate enough to have carriage trouble whilst traveling through the Carpathian Mountains (though, at least, the women all seem to have a ridiculous amount of lingerie – priorities, right?).

Only Bong Joon Ho’s second movie, 2003's Memories of Murder already shows the masterful brush strokes of a confident young artist, writing a thought provoking, multi-layered script (based upon a series of real life murders as well as Alan Moore’s graphic novel “From Hell”) that is paired with a mesmeric visual onscreen presence. Set in a rural town in South Korea, this is a location that has been left behind. Usually a peaceful, quiet place (except when the trains pass through), October 1986 has brought with it the dead body of a young woman – both raped and murdered. Riots and protests routinely pop up in this fractured time and setting.