Drive-In Dust Offs: The Wild, Wild Web of THE SPIDER LABYRINTH (1988)

Have you ever watched a movie, and found yourself so captivated–and boggled–that you turned around and watched it when it was over? And then viewed it yet again to make sure that your eyes, ears, and brain were properly coordinated? Well I have, and that movie is called The Spider Labyrinth., a 1988 Italian wonder that is part Argento, part Bava, part conspiracy, and all shit-yer-drawers insane. It works like a Nyquil-loaded fever dream; you’ll feel much better when you wake but you may have soiled yourself. (I’m still workshopping it.) 

The Spider Labyrinth was released at a time when the world was cool to Italian horror unless it was Dario Argento, and even he would struggle to be seen outside of bootlegs of Japanese laserdiscs. (It’s pretty safe to say that bootlegs kept foreign horror alive before the advent of DVD and the boutique labels who loved them.) So the film didn’t do well, and sooner than later became a whisper, a ghost with a reputation. 

A reputation, it should be noted, earned in several ways. Start with the story: Language professor Alan Whitmore (Roland Wybenga) is coordinator on a secretive world-wide project uncovering a secretive and ancient religious cult. When the benefactors of the ‘Intextus Project’ fail to hear from their Budapest professor, Roth (Lote Attila), they send Alan there to find out what happened to Roth and collect any data he may have. 

Alan is greeted in Budapest by Genevieve (Paola Rinaldi), Roth’s assistant, who after the requisite flirting. takes him to his hotel (which gives off ‘dance academy in Germany’ vibes for some reason; weird) and then a visit to Roth’s house. Alan is met by Roth’s wife Celia (Margareta von Krauss), who takes him to see Roth. 

(You may have noticed that so far the action has been designated to ‘meeting people’ and that’s about it. There’s only a couple more cogs to introduce and then things really get going, I promise. I mean, I already left out the hotel manager Mrs. Kuhn and employee Maria, so you’re welcome.) 

After some initial distrust, Roth starts to tell Alan about his findings, but is cut short by a softball-sized black ball crashing through the window and rolling on the floor right up to Roth. He tells Alan to take his notebook and Roth sends him away shortly before he is hung by a screeching, rotted-of-fang, red-haired hag with extra long nails who uses her spit to make a web and hang him from the rafters. You can read it again. I’ll wait. 

Now we have the police questioning Alan and taking his passport so he can’t leave. Alan becomes understandably paranoid as he feels that Roth’s information is dangerous to his mental and physical health. As Alan gets closer to the truth, the spider woman makes sure he’s trapped in her web. Who is the monster with the flaming hair and hellitosis breath intent on keeping the secrets of… The Spider Labyrinth? 

Who indeed? The Spider Labyrinth offers up many questions but few answers; one could start with Alan’s smiling benefactors who comment after he leaves the office that they “should have told him everything.” Never mind him, what about telling us?

It is part conspiracy, so The Spider Labyrinth uses that to sweep considerations like logic and reasoning under the rug; while you’re wondering who works for who, director Gianfranco Giagni is busy staging another beautiful set piece. Whether it’s shooting in an evocative underground steam bath or a sheet-lined hotel hallway, Giagni and cinematographer Sebastiano Celeste create vistas with some of the same painterly grace of Argento at his best. 

Speaking of, Dario Argento and Mario Bava get love in the film, yet in a way that feels organic; much of Italian horror uses the Bava blueprint of bold colors for bold, shocking emotions–perhaps The Spider Labyrinth just does it better than most. It gives the viewer a Argento/Bava superplot; many characters, red herrings, a global crisis centered around a European city, a doomsayer, a disfigured antagonist, just to name some of the traits it happily trots. 

It also adheres to the standard practice of ensuring the cast is a mix of competent and less blessed, and you don’t need to be Lee Strasberg to mark the scorecard. But the movie pulls another pleasant surprise; the dialogue by writers Riccardo Aragno, Tonino Cervi, Cesare Frugoni, and Gianfranco Manfredi rings a little more true, a little smarter, even if the plot is one of the wilder tales I’ve heard. 

Alright, let’s talk spiders then; it’s relevant to the title, the story, and the craftsmanship of effects legend Sergio Stivaletti.

If you know me, you know I’m not a particular fan of spiders, but I am a huge fan of spider movies. I’m very happy to watch their exploits with the movie screen acting as my tempered glass, but a live one in front of me would make me reach out for my fainting couch. Stivaletti correctly assumed that creating the spiders with stop-motion would make them look surreal and creepier than they normally do; the Hitchcockian gambit is that Alan was traumatized as a child by being locked in a closet with a spider. (I don’t believe he knew the arachnid.) They don’t capitalize on his fear however as Alan, portrayed by Wybenga at least, is a whisper of a fella who seems nonplussed by most things in his life. Trust me when I say he should be plussed. 

While the front half of The Spider Labyrinth is surprisingly engaging without much activity, the back is one gorgeous set piece after another, with Stivaletti offering solid work throughout. 

And then there’s the finale in which one of these secretive sacred ‘old gods’ comes to life to indoctrinate someone into the cult. (Let’s add Lovecraft to the pile.) To preserve some mystery, just imagine Screaming Mad George (R.I.P.) did the effects for Toy Story and whoa, you’re halfway there. This work is a little different than I’ve seen of Stivaletti, and I like the stretch. (Mother of Tears and The Wax Mask usually come to mind.) 

It really is a shame that The Spider Labyrinth wasn’t celebrated at the time of its release; it would have been a boon for horror lovers around the world to see such unbridled weirdness. But maybe the world wasn’t ready then for a spider cult cosmic conspiracy thriller that ingested bath salts. These days, it sounds positively delightful.

The Spider Labyrinth is available on Blu-ray from Severin Films.