25th September 2007.

I’ve unlocked the doors, turned my mobile back on and have emerged from an imposed 10-day exile from the world. Yes, I’ve finally finished reading from cover to cover Tim Lucas’ forever-anticipated book on landmark Italian horror maestro Mario Bava. ‘All The Colors Of The Dark’ has been 32-years in the researching, writing and publishing and became something of a joke amongst aficionados. It seemed to the fan world Lucas was never going to finish it, always waiting for another interview opportunity from the actress playing third Hercules hand-maiden from the left just in case she could add further insight to his subject matter. Well, the joke is on us now because his breezeblock sized 1130-page volume, lavishly illustrated with multi-national posters, never-before-seen behind-the-scenes stills and rare Bava family album photos is the best film history book I’ve ever read. Period.

The monumental scope of Lucas’ life ambition to outline Bava’s importance, not just to the horror genre, but also to the world of cinema in general is astonishing. It begins with a detailed account of Mario’s father Eugenio’s career in silent Italian pictures – a field never explored with such depth, clarity or insight. Then it moves on to Mario’s early days as a cameraman through comedies, opera musicals, neo-realism and becoming the lighting man of choice for star Gina Lollobrigida. The wealth of facts and information is as startling as Lucas’ grasp of their future importance in furnishing Bava with the experiences that would influence the imagery, design and special effects work of his later signature shockers. And, finally, an author, outside of Italy, has recognised Alessandro Blasetti’s La corona di ferro/The iron Crown (1941) as the fantasy landmark it truly is.

Naturally the book comes into its own when Bava’s vital work on the seminal peplum movie Hercules (1958) is discussed. But the sheer volume of sand-and-sandal epics he worked on in various capacities.is just staggering and all named for the first time. In his forensic eye for minutiae familiar to all readers of Lucas’ ‘Video Watchdog’ magazine, he painstakingly identifies Bava’s obscure input via imprimatur fourth wall lighting effects and use of a ripple-glass device given him by his father. I can’t imagine how many hours it took Lucas to research what amounts to two descriptive lines of prose. Yet that unconditional love for Bava’s oeuvre is why this book is so brilliant.

Even when it comes to main body of text about Bava’s more well known past – completing director Riccardo Freda’s I Vampiri (1956) and Caltiki (1959) – that legend says led to him directing Black Sunday (1960) Lucas throws in startling surprise swrves. Black Sunday wasn’t his feature debut at all, Death Comes From Outer Space (1958) was. And so the amazing revelations continue through Bava’s keynote output from Blood and Black Lace (1964) to Shock (1977) that visually impacted on a whole horror generation. Along the richly textured way, with practically every Bava family member and living associate interviewed, Lucas exposes each film Bava worked on in secret (e.g. Naked…You Die and The Normans) discussing censorship issues, casting, international variants, soundtracks and their aftermath force on the career of the shy and modest artist. Lucas’ chapter on Danger: Diabolik (1968) is only my favourite because I love that pop fantasy so much I read this section twice in one go!

Worth every penny of the circa £135 price tag, ‘All The Colors Of The Dark’ (and how appropriate that heading is considering it’s the title of a Sergio Martino directed 1972 film, only adding subtext to Bava hiding his own work behind less talented directors), is nirvana for Spaghetti shock lovers and a masterpiece of the highest order. And where else could you ever read such a nugget as Cameron Mitchell being one of Bava’s most favoured actors because he reminded the director of his most beloved piece of kit, a Mitchell camera!

I am thrilled I played a tiny part in this book’s long inception, I supplied Lucas with all the transcripts from my Mario Bava: Maestro of the Macabre TV documentary and interviewed Dario Argento at length for inclusion. But I’d like to think my main contribution was in continually offering my pep talk support to his tireless commitment in ensuring Bava’s memory, groundbreaking creativity and utmost cultural and genre importance was properly recognised at long last. For it’s the book I’ve always longed to read and a crowning achievement of which Lucas should be immensely proud.

Until next time…