Kieran Canter stars as Frank, an introverted taxidermist mourning the recent death of his young love Anna (Cinzia Monreale, most memorable for her performance as the blind undead prophet Liza in Lucio Fulci’s 1981 gothic horror THE BEYOND). It appears that Anna has been the unwitting victim of a mortal voodoo curse by Frank’s jealous housemaid Iris (Franca Stoppi). Frank is determined, however, to preserve his love for her (in more ways than one) regardless of her death. Courtesy of a last-minute grave robbing, Frank apprehends his deceased lover’s corpse and applies his expertise of the embalmed art to his lover, and keeps her pickled body in his villa as a perverted trophy of his love, much to the disdain of Iris. Events take a turn for the worse when a detective searches the premises for the habeas corpus, prompting a desperate confrontation between Frank and Iris, which ends in tragedy and so much bloodshed.

By all accounts, this is the ultimate Joe D’Amato film. It contains a virtual omnibus of D’Amato’s cinematic excesses (namely graphic gore and appalling sleaze). Most importantly, the film contains heaping doses of gore and a pace that is downright frenzied compared to the director’s many low-rent horror snoozers. In effect, the salient gore sequences are evenly spaced checkpoints throughout the film, effectively rejuvenating the expected slumps in the running time. Surprisingly, however, it’s what D’Amato opts to not show that elevates the film past entry-level genre fodder. Yes, D’Amato exercises a masterful degree of uncharacteristic restraint here, merely hinting at even more unsavory acts such as necrophilia and incest, and the subsequent effect is guaranteed to leave a bad taste in the mouth of even the most unshockable D’Amato devotee.

D’Amato’s careful restraint begins early in the film, in the sequence where Frank visits Anna at her hospital bed. As Anna withers away before Frank, he sets the tone for the film by admitting, "Death has no power to separate us." Such a cryptic line could be interpreted in many ways, but D’Amato makes the line suggest something very clear-necrophilia-by preceding that line with Anna’s final admission that she desperately wanted to make love with Frank one last time before her death. Thus, Frank’s utterance has a very clear message here, although the act of necrophilia is never graphically shown in the film (despite numerous rumors in horror reference guides and websites), but the effect is undeniably more chilling.

Far more disturbing than chilling is Frank’s curious relationship with his maid Iris. Although D’Amato exercises less restraint in portraying the kinky relationship, the mind nevertheless reels at the full extent of their purported liaison. It’s obvious that Iris wishes to marry Frank, and they are sexually involved, regardless of Iris’ age (most probably a decade or more of Frank’s senior). The difference in age suggests that Iris is both a maternal figure and a sexual figure to Frank, and the perversity lies in the intersection of these two figures. In one particular scene, Iris comforts Frank in his loss by whispering sweet nothings in his ear while breast feeding him! In a similar scene, Iris dotes on Frank in a motherly tone, while soothing his blues by stimulating him to orgasm. Iris’ maternal instincts are the most grotesque and warped in a key slaughter scene, which plays like a mother-son bonding sequence from a soap opera gone very wrong. This sequence, where Frank and Iris dispose of an unwelcome guest by butchering her and dousing the pieces in an acid bath, is doubly disturbing considering the Iris/Frank relationship. Iris takes control of the situation, hacking away at the body with reckless abandon, while even Frank, the grizzled taxidermist, is noticeably sickened and bashful, playing the role of a young, reluctantly obsequious son. D’Amato never fully discloses this queer relationship, nor Iris’ true intentions (does she love Frank, or does she just want his inheritance?), which is a wise decision as this nebulous nature of the relationship brings another dimension of mystery to the film.

The conclusion of the acid bath sequence-where Iris dumps the glutinous remains of the bath (resembling a fleshy phlegm)- provides one of the film’s best sources of its sick, sick humor. Iris uses the remains as a fertilizer for the garden, but it is the following sequence that evokes the most nervous laughter. Directly proceeding this unorthodox gardening practice, Iris digs into a bowl of beef stew. As she smacks her lips and noisily downs the chow, the chunks of meat remind Frank of the various chunks of human remains in the acid bath, and he vomits. Iris is noticeably amused, asking, "What’s the matter Frankie baby, heat getting to you?"

But BEYOND THE DARKNESS has still more to offer beyond sick wit and sleazy situations. In fact, it contains D’Amato’s single best gore sequence: the unflinchingly graphic evisceration and embalming of Anna’s body. The whole of the lengthy scene is shot in D’Amato’s typically lifeless and joyless style, but here such lackluster direction lends an essential clinical atmosphere to the proceedings as Frank systematically disembowels his lover. A gruesome sequence, to be sure, but it’s truly special due to D’Amato’s meticulous attention to the pervading necrophilia motif, as the entire autopsy sequence resembles a sex act. Frank begins by lovingly fondling Anna’s organs (actually animal entrails purchased from a local butcher’s shop by D’Amato, and not actual human organs, contrary to various claims) in a sick form of foreplay, finally disposing of them in a sloppy, rusty pail. The disemboweling act concludes with Frank taking a hearty bite out of Anna’s heart, with streams of blood ejaculating from the chambers. The sexual tension is paramount here, as the squirting blood is an obvious symbol of the male orgasm. Goblin’s score further enhances the atmosphere here and certainly deserves an accolade, as it is both mysterious and perversely emotive.

This key sequence proves viviparous, producing at least one more full-bodied, masterful sequence symbolizing necrophilia not in graphic terms, but in a more suggested, mature manner. This scene in question, where Frank seduces a young jogger he meets during his running, utilizes careful framing and tight direction to suggest morbid love. Frank and his new fling begin to make love next to the bed where Anna’s corpse lies, and we see the two warm, very alive bodies writhing next to Ann’s icy cadaver, all of which is contained in a single shot. The juxtaposition of two youthful lovers with a cold, lifeless corpse (in the same frame) is a stunningly succinct representation of necrophilia. Although Frank does not engage in a sexual act with Anna, her close physical proximity to his lovemaking suggests his physical love for her corpse offscreen. The sequence is further substantiated when Frank proves his fidelity to his undead lover by biting a chunk out of the girl’s neck. Although this is predominantly another gore snippet, it does strengthen Frank’s central character focus: his undying love for Anna. And if for nothing else, it offers yet another immoral "bonding" sequence with Iris to strengthen the Iris/Frank relationship, where the deathly duo wrestles the body into the crematorium. It’s worth noting that the harrowing footage of the woman burning alive is yet another source of controversy: this was obviously not a real cremation contrary to rumor, as D’Amato himself admitted that the flames were simply superimposed over the actress’ death writhings.

The film does falter during the final third, however, due to needless splinters in the plot, such as Frank’s encounter with a dancer at a disco (this sequence is missing from the US "Thriller" video release). The scene is too obviously just a set-up for another murder, although it’s not entirely a throwaway, as it provides some tension for the film’s terminus. The film rebounds, however, during its conclusion, which offers a major fork in the road: the appearance of Anna’s twin sister Elena (also Monreale)! Upon viewing her, Frank mistakes her for Anna’s resurrected corpse, and Iris, understandably threatened by Frank’s preoccupation, fights Frank to the death. In the aftermath, Frank is left standing (minus an eye), and Elena is seen breathing. In the immediate scene, Frank cremates a body, and Monreale’s corpse is left on the table. The question is, who was in the crematorium? Was it Anna or Elena? In the film’s final scare, Monreale’s body leaps from her coffin. But who was it? D’Amato is never clear. Two fascinating conjectures arise (one probable, the other less credible): either Anna’s voodoo curse has been lifted in Iris’ death, or Frank burned Anna’s body and switched the corpses, literally leaving the very living Elena to be buried alive. This perplexity is yet another source of depth for the film, although it may be a product of sloppy storytelling rather than careful calculation.

BEYOND THE DARKNESS comes at a unique time in D’Amato’s career. It is bookended by his "hardgore" XXX horror films (1979’s PORNO HOLOCAUST and EROTIC NIGHTS OF THE LIVING DEAD and the previous year’s PAPAYA OF THE CARRIBEAN) and his later, most revered films (1980’s ANTHROPOPHAGUS). Thus it is surprising that his best work predates his most famous output, and his BEYOND THE DARKNESS would never be equaled for the sheer volume of masterfully orchestrated gore, bad taste and perversity (although his 1982 film CALIGULA: THE UNTOLD STORY comes close); thus it must be considred a high watermark in the vomitus of gross-out Italian gore cinema.