Main cast: Urbano Barberini (George), Natasha Hovey (Cheryl), Karl Zinny (Ken), Fiore Argento (Hannah), Paola Cozzo (Kathy), Fabiola Toledo (Carmen), and Nicoletta Elmi (Ingrid)
Director: Lamberto Bava
For years, the poster for Demoni, or Demons, bore Dario Argento’s name like a stamp of honor, but surprise! This 1985 splatterfest was actually directed by Lamberto Bava, who co-wrote the screenplay with Argento and two others. How four people could produce such a mess of a script is a mystery for the ages, but that’s not why this movie became a cult classic.
The premise, the absurd gore, the utter chaos, and the wildly over-the-top scenes are what fans remember. And yes, the soundtrack doesn’t hurt, with bands like Billy Idol and Mötley Crüe setting the tone (as for Go West’s presence… let’s forget that).
The plot is as simple as it gets: two university students are handed free tickets to a film screening at a mysterious new cinema and decide to skip class. This turns out to be a very bad choice.
As the film starts rolling, one unlucky viewer is possessed by the same demon wreaking havoc on-screen, the exits and entrances mysteriously vanish, and everyone inside is trapped. Soon, it’s a fight for survival as the demon slaughters the audience, who rise as zombie-like creatures, eager to snack on the other patrons.
The characters… well, that’s a generous term. Trying to remember anyone’s name is a lost cause, and frankly, their personalities are so thin that you’re unlikely to recall them at all. The women spend most of the runtime shrieking and panicking, like they’re competing to be the worst stereotypes of their gender, while the men puff their chests and display a level of intelligence only slightly higher than the theatre’s ticket stubs. No gender escapes the smear of stereotype here!
One exception stands out: Tony, a larger-than-life pimp who seems like an offensive stereotype waiting to happen but somehow transcends it by being the only character with brains, guts, and some actual attitude. You find yourself rooting for him—not that he’s any safer. This was the 1980s, after all, when black characters rarely made it to the end credits in horror films, so naturally, you hope he takes out a few morons before the inevitable.
The gore, however, is gloriously top-notch. Logic? Not so much. These demons infect people in wildly inconsistent ways, seemingly at whim. And if you thought the rules couldn’t get more random, think again—there’s even a scene where a demon baby pops out of a victim as though the writers just had to include something cool. It is cool, but a little consistency would have helped!
Speaking of inexplicable scenes, some exist purely because they can. There’s an entire subplot involving a gang of punks that could be removed without changing a thing, but hey, it gives the filmmakers an excuse for an extended close-up of a woman’s breast that seems better suited for a mammogram than a horror flick. It’s a choice, to say the least.
The practical effects, however, are a wonder to behold. Even today, they’re magnificently grotesque, and they hold up. At one point, someone rides a motorbike through the theatre, slicing off demon heads with a samurai sword. Does it make sense? No. Is it awesome? Absolutely.
Watch Demoni for the gore and the unfiltered, nonsensical carnage, and you’ll have a great time. But if you’re hoping for coherence, character development, or anything resembling logic, you’re in for a night of horror-induced disappointment.
