FAB Press has deservedly earned quite a reputation for their outstanding series of gorgeous looking film books, and THE HAUNTED WORLD OF MARIO BAVA is no exception. In fact, its probably the most impressive release yet from the UK publishing house. Jam-packed with approximately eight hundred full color and B&W film stills, posters, lobby cards and publicity photos taken from every era of Mario Bava's career (courtesy of Lucas Balbo's Artschiv collection), the book is available in paperback and hardback editions; both are things of exquisite beauty, but the silver-embossed hard cover edition (limited to only 1000 copies) is the clear winner, as it is a much sturdier volume and features a far more classy cover than the paperback version.
A supremely talented stylist with a deft hand for making near masterpieces out of the most unpromising of material, Bava's best films (BLACK SUNDAY, BLACK SABBATH, BLOOD AND BLACK LACE, KILL, BABY...KILL) have had a huge and profound influence on contemporary world cinema. His B&W films are undeniably extraordinary exercises in pure gothic beauty, but it was when Bava switched to color that his imagination was allowed to blossom into often dizzying heights of demonic power. Frequently trapped in supernatural landscapes, Bava's protagonists are helplessly dumped into a hallucinatory whirlwind of color, assaulted on all sides by an ever shifting array of red and blue lights and thick, pulsing mists. The vivid color schemes of Bava's films can be psychologically disturbing for the viewer. While the plots of most of his films are usually quite weak, they carry enough of a narrative thrust to take us willingly along on a ride to a curiously beautiful hell.
THE HAUNTED WORLD OF MARIO BAVA is the first book length English language study of the films of the great Italian fantasist and, as such, it is undeniably an historically important work. It is sadly unfortunate for all Bava fans that the task of writing such an essential book would fall to one so woefully inadequate for the job. Troy Howarth is a monumentally dull writer, dry and humorless in the extreme, whose hackneyed fanboy praises here do absolutely nothing to persuasively argue the worth of this still underrated artist. A man singularly devoid of even the most rudimentary of critical skills, Howarth affects a facade of sophistication by utilizing a comical mock-professorial tone throughout the text, while offering us only the most trite and commonplace of observations. In his chapter devoted to PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES, for example, Howarth allocates an incredible amount of space singing the praises of the film's cornball finale, which even by 1965 was one of the oldest and most cliched of all "sting" endings. "(A) wonderfully imaginative plot twist...", he swoons, awed by the innovative genius of the screenwriters. "With savage irony, the film proposes that man is not alone [in the universe]...", something this erudite critic apparently never before considered. Finally, the hoary and obvious surprise ending proves that "Bava takes cruel delight in toying with audience expectations..."
Howarth parades an endless series of similarly vapid insights and cliches through the entire book. His torturously overlong story synopses are truly maddening; such lengthy plot rehashing is simply completely unnecessary as most of the director's oeuvre is easily accessible these days via videotape and DVD. For someone who has never seen a Mario Bava film, this book may possibly serve adequately as a superficial introduction to the director's work. But for an illuminating study of the great man's art and obsessions, the reader will have to look elsewhere.