Michael Mann
The Keep

It seems that lately I am haunted by the fantanazi genre. After the flashy nonsense of Iron Sky, I stumbled, by pure chance, upon a movie on YouTube that I had (understandably) almost forgotten. I am talking about «The Keep» (1983), directed by the then nearly debutant Michael Mann. The pulsating thrillers, Miami Vice, and masterpieces such as Heat and Collateral are yet to come, and Mann tackles the homonymous novel by F. Paul Wilson for his only incursion into the horror-fantasy genre.

We are in the Carpathians in 1941; a unit of Wermacht soldiers guards a remote mountain pass where the titular fortress stands. From their arrival, however, the Germans are mercilessly massacred by 'something' that lurks within the ancient stone walls of the bastion. This entity is Radu Molasar, a malevolent being that has awakened and is ready to rise again; who will dare to stop it? As you can see, a decent pastiche mixing the horrific with warfare, offering a peculiar and somewhat original setting.

Unfortunately, The Keep turns out to be a melting pot of very interesting but completely wasted ideas. Although the sets are fascinating and the director's touch is felt, it is all nullified by a choppy script that constantly stalls and by a reckless editing that forces us to rely on intuition to understand the plot. The disappointment increases when considering the excellent cast, which includes Jürgen Prochnow, Gabriel Byrne, Scott Glenn, and Ian McKellen (not just random folks...). The actors do their best, and particularly the future Gandalf's performance leaves a mark, but despite this, the film fails to save itself and ends up being confusing and botched. It's worth noting that some scenes are memorable and very powerful, especially the (few) ones in which we see the dreadful Molasar in action; among special effects, dialogues, and music, there is much to enjoy.

Specifically, the soundtrack, signed by the geniuses of Tangerine Dream, is one of the reasons this film has become a sort of cult. Eerie soundscapes, touching revisited classical symphonies, deep electronic reflections cloak The Keep with romantic and dramatic intensity, contributing greatly to its (limited) fame. I refer you, for instance, to the first, extraordinary appearance of the monster, whose ethereal stride is accompanied by a Messa Per Quattro Voci by William Byrd, suitably arranged: it is a scene that hardly leaves anyone indifferent. Strangely, of the sixteen tracks produced for the film (and published after various vicissitudes only in 1997), only two or three were actually used. Most of the musical commentary indeed includes rearranged contributions or extracts from the excellent live album Logos, released the previous year.

Ultimately, The Keep revolves around those five or six scenes that really work, focusing, when not on the creature, on the Nazis. Their mad and sick ruthlessness, well embodied by the SS Major Kaempffer (Byrne), is an opportunity for a reflection on the destructive madness of man and his homicidal ideas. The absolute evil that infests the fortress, ultimately, is not much different from the one humanity turns against itself. This is one of the main themes of the film, the seductive ambiguity of the monster, the embodiment of hatred and ruin that unleashes its wrath on criminals guilty of polluting the world. The elimination of this entity, for which the spectator will inevitably cheer, cannot be entrusted to the 'good' man but to an external and superior force that will indeed soon intervene.

All this to say that the story narrated by Mann (or rather by Wilson) is rich in insights, intriguing ideas that perhaps deserved greater commitment and fortune. Although it is anything but poorly produced, the film lacks that structural solidity that cannot be compensated by the atmosphere, the acting, or the music. The Keep still boasts a loyal group of enthusiasts who, besides Tangerine Dream's work, admire the mixing of genres, the excellent actors' performance, and the imposing figure of the insidious and monstrous avenger Molasar. For me, objectively, 2 and a half rounded down; if the DeEditors are listening, I once again advocate the necessity of half points...

Ah, this is one of those rare cases where I admit that the Italian dubbing worsens things; so, if you feel like it, watch it in the original language. You will appreciate McKellen's diction much more but, above all, you will also tremble at Molasar's cry: "I WILL DESTROY THEM!"