Pupi Avati
Zeder

When we talk about horror, we immediately think of dark, gloomy landscapes where everything is in decay and cobwebs reign supreme. We certainly don't think of Emilia Romagna, with its cheerful beaches of Rimini. We don't imagine that such a backdrop could host a first-rate horror movie. In a way, 'Zeder' is based on this: the stark contrast between the very dark themes and the lively, sunny land in which it is set. After the immense "The House with Laughing Windows" from 1976, Pupi Avati tries his hand at a new horror: it's 1982 (it will be released in '83), and once again, the Po Valley serves as the backdrop to the shocking themes. But let's talk about the film now.

The story is about a scholar, Paolo Zeder, who in the late 1800s developed the theory of K-Zones, areas where time and space do not exist, and the dead can come back to life. As fate would have it, one of these K-Zones is right in Emilia Romagna. The plot involves a Bolognese writer (except for a brief initial segment, the film is set in the present, which means 1982), who receives a used typewriter as a gift from his wife, allowing him to finally attempt to write his drafts and texts properly. One night, Stefano, this is the writer's name, gets up because he can't sleep and decides to jot down a few lines on the new typewriter. However, he notices that on the typewriter's ribbon (I'm saying this, but I'm not really sure how a typewriter works), there are data reporting strange events related to the K-Zones.

From this point forward, a slow and relentless descent into the nightmare begins. Stefano investigates the previous owner of the typewriter, but in the meantime, a series of events pushes him to shift his investigation to Rimini, where the facts take a turn that is increasingly less noir and more unsettling. It turns out the typewriter belonged to a certain Don Luigi Costa, who had disappeared some time before under mysterious circumstances. The plot thickens, the investigations continue to take new turns, and a terrifying truth comes to light, culminating in a final climax where a huge former colony in the Romagna countryside becomes the place where the absolute truth about the K-Zones is revealed, a place where imagination, reality, life, and death merge in a unique and delirious finale that is highly unsettling and suggestive.

All of this is 'Zeder', a film distinguished by its beautiful and intriguing plot, and the intense crescendo that leads us to a chilling finale. It is certainly a different Avati from the one we have in mind, but certainly equally effective. The film's strengths, aside from the brilliance of the plot, are above all the skill of the actors, Gabriele Lavia in the role of Stefano and the lovely Anne Canovas as his wife, but also certain extraordinarily dark and unsettling scenes, such as the presence manifested in the basement at the start of the film, or the slow shot of the face of the resurrected dead slowly opening its eyes (I confess that when I saw the scene years ago, I nearly soiled myself).

Pupi Avati proves to be an adept screenwriter, aided by his trusted allies Antonio Avati (his brother) and Maurizio Costanzo (yes, him). He stands out from the gruesome, splatter mob of the time for a certain elegance and "cleanliness" of the film (in other words, to be scary, you don't need tankers of blood and assorted mutilations). Not to be overlooked is the choice of actors, always with very particular faces, not so much those of Lavia and Canovas (who play the part of the 'beautiful'), but all those quirky characters around them that are essential for the perfect outcome of the work. In this case, opting for actors with chubby, grotesque, and rustic faces turns out to be a brilliant move (but then again, Avati, like Fellini and many other masters, has always been very meticulous in choosing actors).

Considered lesser compared to "The House with Laughing Windows," Zeder is almost always overshadowed by the aforementioned predecessor. However, taken individually, it proves to be a small masterpiece, definitely one of the highest achievements of Italian horror and beyond (along with Bava and Argento). It has taught even overseas artists a thing or two (and certainly Stephen King with his 'Pet Sematary' knows something about it).

Some say that Italy and horror cinema are two irreconcilable things: as far as I'm concerned, Italian horror is what has fascinated me the most so far. Well, judge for yourselves...