A film known more by reputation than actual screenings for several decades, Black Pit of Dr. M (shown here under its more appropriate Spanish title, Misterios de ultratumba) went straight to American television in a dubbed, heavily butchered edition courtesy of K. Gordon Murray. While this variant has since become extinct, the intact Mexican original proudly stands as one of the best of its country's ilk, a delicious headlong collision between the hoary monster-on-the-loose antics of Universal horror and the bold, stylistic flourishes which were became the trademarks of '60s horror cinema (especially in Europe). Though this still has numerous talky passages in keeping with Mexican horror tradition, director Fernando Méndez (The Vampire) keeps even the most static scenes alive by lighting the frame with constant sources of texture like flickering candles, fires, billowing mist, and moving shadows, creating a visually beguiling work that explodes in a few jolting terror set pieces. The sets are also a bit more ambitious than usual, with some wonderfully creepy exteriors that would be right at home in Hammer's Brides of Dracula one year later. The influence on Italian horror is obvious as well, considering that bandwagon only began a year later, too; though it can't claim any European pedigree, this film could easily go on the shortlist with Georges Franju's Eyes without a Face as one of the first truly "modern" horror films.
Of course, the constraints of Mexican filmmaking at the time prevent Méndez's film from reaching the artistic heights of its more famous counterparts; the actors are competent but rarely hit the delirious heights one might expect with the material, and the overwriting of some scenes will no doubt cause some new viewers to roll their eyes once or twice. However, for anyone accustomed to these films, the much-needed restoration of this crucial title restores an important piece in the puzzle of assembling a genuine, more respectable view of the golden age of Mexican horror.
Once again CasaNegra has provided a wonderfully clean transfer for such an obscure title. Unlike some earlier films, the framing (presented completely open matte here) appears designed to be composed with matting to 1.85:1 or so in mind; there's plenty of dead space at the top and bottom, so viewers with widescreen monitors (who don't mind cropping off the subtitles, unless they have a zoom-friendly DVD player) can actually increase their enjoyment by doing a manual widescreen presentation. Black levels are a bit on the pale side during several scenes (especially the first reel), but this may have been a deliberate photographic choice given the wild visual manipulation on display throughout the film. The mono Spanish audio with optional English subtitles sounds fine throughout.
Mexican horror enthusiast and expert (and rocker) Frank Coleman chips in with the most notable extra, a feature-length audio commentary track in which he covers the stories of the various participants in front and behind the camera, plus a sketch of the film's odd distribution history which left it far more obscure than, say, The Brainiac. Coleman also appears as part of "21st Century Art" for a '90s homemade music video using clips from the film, sort of in the same spirit as the Argento "Demonia" tributes. Other extras include a director bio, a step-through essay on K. Gordon Murray, the 1961 English script (about as close to that dub as you're likely to get), the Mexican theatrical trailer, and a poster and still gallery. See the doctor now!
For more information about Black Pit of Dr. M, visit CasaNegra Films. To order Black Pit of Dr. M, go to TCM Shopping.
by Nathaniel Thompson
