Mill of the Stone Women
By Christopher Hyde
May 25, 2004
Mondo Macabro does it again — this time with a colorful Euro-horror classic from the early 1960s.
As the '60s dawned, the Italian horror movie was starting to come into its own, with films by directors such as Mario Bava, Antonio Margheriti and Riccardo Freda just beginning to terrify continental audiences. While many of these movies were made in stark black and white, director Giorgio Ferroni’s 1960 project Mill of the Stone Women was instead shot in a glorious Technicolor palette. This very much sets this one off from others of a contemporaneous ilk - and with its high quality set decoration and capable ensemble cast, the work is of far better quality than many genre efforts of the time.
The plot revolves around a young man (Pierre Brice) named Hans who travels to the canal strewn countryside somewhere in Europe to labor for an art professor (Robert Boehme) at his creaky windmill. Along the way he runs into his childhood sweetheart (the lovely Dany Carrel), who remains smitten with him after all these years. But there’s a complication to their romantic reunion, as the mill is also home to the professor’s elusive daughter Elfi (Scilla Gabel) who peers from the shadows in such a mysterious manner that it piques our young hero’s interest. While Dad attempts to ward off Hans by telling him of his daughter’s frail health, the inexorable pull of lust is far too strong and he finds himself haplessly involved with the sheltered siren.
With this being a tale of terror, it then becomes clear that the young woman’s medical condition — and its cure — exist far beyond the bounds of what is practiced in the state sanctioned health establishment. Attended by a creepy personal doctor (Wolfgang Preiss) who is, of course, also in love with his charge, Elfi’s condition apparently requires the vital fluids of other feminine youth to ensure her longevity. Events follow one another as the protagonist is put through a ringer of psychological assault and confused loyalties, all of which lead up to the grand guignol denouement that concludes the proceedings.
Obviously heavily influenced by Georges Franju’s swirling mix of art and horror Eyes Without a Face, Mill of the Stone Women moves the exsanguinating action into a somberly hued universe full of gloomy props and expressionist ambience. The film’s story plays out amongst some intricately decorated sets, giving the actors in the drama an atmospheric setting in which to operate. The crumbling mill of the film’s title is a decrepit place, filled haphazardly with ominous statuary and ancient religious icons; it’s also lit in such a way that impenetrable shadows flicker restlessly in its dusty corners.
All of this careful scene setting would be for naught, however, if the film’s cast were not able to carry the fairly derivative screenplay to greater glory. Luckily the group assembled here are all of excellent caliber, and though the deliberate pace leads to some stodginess, in the main the dramatic work is excellent for a genre piece. The male actors portray their characters with the proper aplomb, with Wolfgang Preiss’ performance as the obsessed mad scientist being especially noteworthy. Lead actor Brice is also fine, his stolid presence creating a riveting center for the film’s harrowing happenings. But in essence, it’s the two actresses on display here that really make the film effective. Dany Carrel’s portrayal of the hopeful innocent has just the right touch of wounded waif to it, and while she isn’t given all that much to do overall, her understated beauty lends a believable touch of plainspoken demureness to the film. (Not to mention a bit of exploitation style nekkidness). Scilla Gabel, on the other hand, stands as the movie’s true star — her ample Italian charms supplemented by a statuesque countenance that serves her enigmatic character just perfectly.
As is generally the case with an offering from Mondo Macabro, all the bonus elements are handled in a manner that complements the art of the piece of cinema itself. The transfer is up to the always high standards of the company, showing off Mill of the Stone Women in all its colorful depth. They’ve also included three audio tracks, tossing on the US and UK English language tracks as well as the French version that can be accompanied by subtitles. The versions do differ somewhat, and in addition the company has tacked on a couple of deleted scenes and an alternate title sequence as extras. Unfortunately there is no cool documentary here as there is on many a Mondo Macabro disc, but the only real reason that this is a disappointment is that the company has spoiled us by giving us such great expectations for its DVDs. Rounding out the release are extensive photo and publicity materials galleries, and also plenty of biographical background sketches on many of the major performers.
Once again, Pete Tombs and company have brought back yet another fine example of the international horror film that has not previously been seen in a form that befits its stature as a celluloid document. Continuing their excellent run of restorations, this DVD version of Mill of the Stone Women carves yet another macabre notch in their digital belt - and allows the outfit to add to its stellar reputation as one of the horror world’s premier historical entities. There’s just no telling what exactly they’ll uncover next from what farflung corner of the world (though I’ll put in a personal plug here begging for Ki-young Kim’s Hanyo aka The Housemaid), but if there’s anything that we’ve learned by now it’s that whatever it is, it’ll sure be worth a good long look.
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