Under any title, however, Beyond the Door (released in Italy as Chi sei?, "Who Am I?" in 1974) is a real stinker, too protracted and boring to have much camp value, though its dialogue is especially ripe. As one critic accurately put it, the film is conventionally gory, with almost exactly the same demonic possession shtick Linda Blair suffered through in William Friedkin's film of The Exorcist. Probably wary of problems with the Catholic Church in Italy, there's a complete absence of Christian iconography in Beyond the Door, undercutting its potential and making its story seem, oddly, rather trivial.

Italian filmmakers tend to excel when putting their own unique spin on long established genres they gradually mold into their own, such as the giallo thrillers they were making concurrent to this, and which are often superb. They're at their worst when they try to make fast-buck knock-offs of American-made blockbusters, however: their imitation Exorcist/Jaws/Star Wars movies are all pretty dire.

Nevertheless, Code Red's DVD gets high marks. Few movies this terrible are as crammed with so many extra features.

The by-the-numbers plot revolves around the demonic possession of Jessica Barrett (Juliet Mills) after she becomes pregnant with her third child. As usual with these things, 1) the family lives an idyllic existence before all the unexplainable events shake things up; 2) the husband, Robert (Gabriele Lavia, who seems made up to resemble Dean Stockwell, though Lord knows why), is reluctant to accept the Horrible Truth, way past the point where any normal person would have rushed his wife to the emergency room and a team of specialists; 3) before long Jessica's spewing gallons of green goo, her head's spinning like a top, and she's levitating all about the bedroom, talking like sailor. Her typically bratty/precocious older children - the girl collects Love Story paperbacks for no clear reason and both she and her younger brother swear a lot - are terrorized by dolls that come to life in the playroom (the film's best sequence).

The film has a number of curious in-jokes and misplaced humor. In one scene Jessica comes across a banana peel on the sidewalk; she stars at it for a minute, as the audience wonders if perhaps she's about to take an enormous pratfall. Instead, the possessed mom picks it up and gobbles it down. Her daughter plays with cans of pea soup, a reference to what Linda Blair puked up in The Exorcist. The location manager in San Francisco must have been a film buff, too: the same forest-green Volkswagen Beetle prominent in the famous chase scene in Bullitt turns up here, too.

There are a few disquieting moments: an effective split-screen shot of Mills' face, with one eye placid and unmoving while the other rolls around madly, independent of the other. But there's little in the way of directorial flourishes, and what there are, including a series of pointless freeze-frames, are not good.

A strange, confusing subplot involves Dimitri (Richard Johnson), an ex-lover who is either a Satanist trying to ensure the baby's birth, or an ex-Satanist trying to free himself from the Devil's hold on him, and/or trying to make sure the baby is born so that he can kill it. Or something. It's a muddled characterization, though Johnson is such a good actor he can't help but make it an interesting if confusing one.

Indeed, Mills and Johnson are a much higher caliber of actor than the film really deserves. Mills had been kicking around in films and television for quite a while, and should have become a major film star after co-starring with Jack Lemmon in the vastly-underrated Avanti! (1972), in which she gave an unforgettable performance. Perhaps with Beyond the Door Mills was trying to shake her goody two shoes image from Nanny and the Professor in which she played TV's answer to Mary Poppins. Johnson kept flirting with movie stardom in films like The Haunting and as a pretty good Bulldog Drummond in several films, but he ended up in Italy for a big chunk of the '70s, making cheap films like this.

Beyond the Door was, however, undeniably a hit. Even with the added cost of shooting the exteriors in America, the picture cost just $350,000 yet earned $15 million in the United States alone. Ironically, a copyright infringement lawsuit filed by Warner Bros. (producers of The Exorcist) in the end only gave the film a lot of publicity it otherwise couldn't have afforded.

Video & Audio

The region-free Beyond the Door is 16:9 enhanced widescreen, its 1.78:1 aspect ratio approximating its 1.85:1 theatrical presentation. The transfer combines the complete international version with the end titles of the U.S. release, so it seems, and has its share of combing, most noticeable during the first reel or two, but otherwise it's okay. The English-only mono audio is another story; it's noisy and dirty, sounding like it was lifted from a theatrical print rather than an original element. In one of the audio commentaries, a now lost four-track magnetic stereo release is discussed, though that may have never existed for the long version of the film.

Extra Features.

The supplements are extensive, though hit-and-miss. There are two (count 'em, two) audio commentaries: one with director-producer Ovidio G. Assonitis and Euro-horror historian Nathaniel Thompson and moderated by Lee Christian. It's okay, but the discussion is rather disjointed, the two Americans run out of things to ask pretty quickly and there are awkward stretches of silence. Christian is back with Juliet Mills, producer Scott Spiegel, and film scholar Darren Gross for the second track; the organization isn't much better, but the eccentric actress keeps it interesting.

Beyond the Door: 35 Years Later is a better mini-retrospective, featuring Assonitis and Mills, as well as actor Richard Johnson and co-screenwriter Alex Rebar. Johnson, a wily raconteur, is back for the enjoyable An Englishman in Italy. He has lots of interesting and amusing things to say about his years working in that industry. Also included are a battered but 16:9 enhanced trailer of the U.S. release and a still gallery.

Parting Thoughts

Beyond the Door didn't do much for this reviewer. Except for a few effective little snippets here and there during the horror set pieces, it's derivative and pretty dull, lacking the flair or originality of the best Italian horror and suspense pictures, though Code Red's presentation makes the most of what there is. Rent It.

Film historian Stuart Galbraith IV's latest book, Japanese Cinema, is on sale now.