In the weird, wonderful world of Seven Deaths in the Cat's Eye, rats are benign creatures that add lively if unwelcome life to your gothic castle.

That is, until you heave a corpse down the stairs into their lair.

Then these “basement piranha” become voracious scavengers, stripping the flesh from a cadaver's face within seconds, leaving little more than a bloody skull behind. They're like the tarantulas in The Beyond, but cuter.

Indeed, after this scene, the first scene no less, I knew that I was in for some fun. No sooner than the camera comes into focus on a cobwebbed gate, it is splattered in blood, and the first death (of seven) happens, right in front of that darn cat. After all, they are in his eyes. You gotta give a movie credit for spelling it out right in the title.

And that cat, that unnamed cat...despite being ridiculously cute (I do have a soft spot for fluffy kitties), the movie quickly teaches you that when he's alone in a room with someone, they're not long for this world. It creates an interesting mishmash of emotions, quickly turning from cooing “Look at the kitty!” to “Oh shit! Time to die!” Well, it happened to me, anyways.

Obviously there's more going on than that. The real meat of the story revolves around Corringa (the plain-yet-pretty Jane Birkin) visiting her family in their ancestral home after being expelled from school. Her family, the MacGrieffs (subtle, huh?), have plenty of skeletons in their closet to match the faceless carcass in the basement. The most shameful secret seems to be young James , who does nothing to cover his seething hatred for the rest of his clan, nor his supposed insanity. He spends most of his time in his studio, painting and caring for his ape (also named James), as well as avoiding the rest of the MacGrieffs.

Not that I blame him. The whole lot of the family are a rotten bunch. When we're introduced to Corringa's mother Alicia and Aunt Mary, they are having a disagreement about their inheritance. Alicia is unable to use her share except to further Corringa's education, and the aunt wants some of the money to aid in the upkeep of the ancestral home. Also living in the home are a lecherous doctor, a predatory bisexual tutor who's making the eyes at Corringa when she's not sleeping with said doctor, and a live-in priest that minds the family chapel. Being a giallo and not a soap opera, bodies start to pile up at the hands of a black-gloved killer, and the list of suspects is a mile long.

Where Seven Deaths sets itself apart from other gialli is in its extremely gothic tone. The MacGrieff castle (named Dragonson) is appropriately ancient, and its stone halls are littered with sputtering wall sconces, bas-relief gargoyles, and secret passages. Beds are all of the canopied variety, every room has a fireplace, and the basement is appropriately choked with rats and bats. Nods towards Poe are sprinkled liberally around the plot, including the aforementioned ape, the feline murder witness, even the dark family secret (which may possibly be vampirism ) are all here for your enjoyment. In fact, I consider this movie to be less a giallo and more an outright gothic horror with a few straight razor murders. It's more Dark Shadows than Death Walks At Midnight.

Not that the giallo-starved should skip this one over. While the giallo bits seem less prevalent than the DVD synopsis would have you believe, this movie is pure entertainment. The secrets of the MacGrieff house are suitably sleazy, there's a healthy helping of throat-slashing , and it's so utterly dramatic and over-the-top that you can't help but chip out a little spot in your heart for it. Take it for what it is: 95 minutes of melodramatic, garishly colored delirium . It reminded me a bit of Argento's Suspiria in its thematic mixture and color scheme, and director Antonio Margheriti (credited here as Anthony M. Dawson) has one straight razor lockpicking scene that Argento practically plagiarized in his later classic.

Once again, Blue Underground has knocked my socks off in its presentation. Their remastering abilities, as I've said before, imply some sort of deal with Old Scratch himself, as Seven Deaths looks astonishing. While there is still grain and print damage present (although much less than I expected), the bright color palette is perfectly reproduced in all its Technicolor glory. Reds in particular are exceptionally bold (always important for us gorehounds), and the shadows are so deep you can practically fall into them. Audio is very clear, in the original mono, with Riz Ortolani's overly dramatic score sounding full and rich. There are a few moments where the quality lapses where they reinserted cut scenes, as I'm sure not all the additional elements were in as good of condition as the main print, and at times the audio would suddenly lapse into Italian with English subtitles (again, due to a blend of many elements trying to complete the film), but you can't begrudge BU for what they're achieving: a truly uncut version of a film that one would never expect that kind of treatment for.

There is but one extra on the disc, an 8-minute interview with co-writer Giovanni Simonelli, but it gave perhaps one of the most interesting statements about the giallo genre I've heard: “They were not meant to be artistic, they were just entertaining. They served their purpose, and they all did well.” Go in with that attitude, and you'll find plenty of enjoyment out of Seven Deaths in the Cat's Eye.