Amando de Ossorio, with his fresh, apocalyptic vision of the undead nihilistically portrayed in an uncompromising manner in which death languorously creeps upon humanity, created one of the most devastating zombie tales ever set to celluloid. In so doing, he approached the film as an art form, each frame beautifully lit as its vacant earth tones drain the screen while Antón García Abril’s score paradoxically fills yet simultaneously depletes the surrounding atmosphere.

At a seaside resort in Lisbon, Virginia White (María Elena Arpón) meets Betty Turner (Lone Fleming), an old high school companion. Virginia’s boyfriend, Roger Whelan (César Burner), invites Betty to go with them on a weekend camping trip. Shortly after the three depart by train, Virginia suffers a bout of jealousy and hops off in disgust, fleeing into the countryside. Seeking shelter for the night, she moseys into a nearby monastery known as the Berzano Ruins.

In the 13th Century, Templar Knights were tortured and hung by local villagers for attempting to gain eternal life via unholy rituals involving the bloodletting of virgins, their corpses left to the crows who subsequently pecked out their eyes. Centuries later, these now blind knights routinely rise from their Berzanian crypts each night and search for prey by sound.

Roger and Betty locate the ruins the next day in their search for Virginia. To their dismay, they find their friend’s corpse. They enter a nearby village and inquire about the tombs to discover that the locals are reluctant to talk about the topic until they find Professor Candal (Francisco Sanz), who discloses the history of the area. They then return, with two less-than-law-abiding individuals, Pedro Candal (Joseph Thelman) and Maria (María Silva), as the undead begin to rise once again.

Amando de Ossorio rightly deserves his status as a landmark zombie director for presenting a new, daunting version of the undead. His knights, understandably considering their age, are dusty, skeletal remains shrouded in the equally decrepit ritual dressings in which they were slain. The knights’ faces are further veiled in menacing ambiguity, thus allowing the viewers’ imaginations to run wild with malevolent possibilities, as the zombie hordes approach with their hoods masking their faces in shadow.

The manner in which Ossorio has his undead hunt their prey is psychologically devastating in that they ride their equally decrepit steeds, thus towering over their victims, as they approach in droves. The terror is further compounded by Antón García Abril’s score. The knights are silent as ethereal chanting fills the void amid the solitary wind languidly moving through the ruins. The soundtrack compliments Ossoorio’s somber slow motion photography of the knights, thus making death’s pursuit all the more agonizing in its postponement. The penultimate horror witnessed during the film, atop the fact that not one knight is dispatched (thus an avenue for hope via alleviation of the undead plague is never offered), is that the blind zombies stalk via sound. We watch as Betty stands deathly still, attempting to avoid detection, as the undead listen patiently until Betty’s accelerating heartbeat divulges her location. Thus, regardless of how well humanity evades faltering in the face of death, its inherit biology will be its predestined downfall. Finally, the undead file off the train which they boarded in pursuit of our protagonists as the implication is given that humanity will see its slow, torturous demise over time. The film closes as the zombies enter into the human population at large.

Many have cited that the film’s rape scene is merely gratuitous. However, it is juxtaposed with the rising of the undead, thus implying that, in horror tradition, the knights are coming to punish the immoral act of sex (epitomized in the statement by the coroner, played by Juan Cortés, that “Young girls show too much these days” as well as the symbolic import of Virginia’s name). Easily, the stagnant, decrepit undead can be viewed as staunch moralists interceding into the sexual liberality of youth (insert Franco’s regime for the former to garner a historical parable). Still others filed the same complaint about a lesbian flashback involving Virginia and Betty. Yet, this permits the jealousy that Virginia exhibits during the flirtations between her beau and her former lover to be two-fold, thus allowing her abrupt departure to be even more plausible (enough to merit jumping off a moving train). The only qualm which I could posit is that the introduction of Pedro and Maria seems arbitrary, but–in the wake of what is occurring on screen–seems, at best, to be a mere afterthought of little consequence.

Amando de Ossorio exhausts his audience as it is consumed by one of the most visually and philosophically stunning zombie movies ever made. Unlike most films within the genre, the director channels his efforts in the creation of the atmosphere and setting in which his characters find themselves, which is equally devoid of hope and life, as literal, impending death relentlessly pursues its prey. Antón García Abril’s score depletes what little hope would be implied in that most soundtracks offer a recognizable human voice with familiar language. Instead, Abril’s score is hollow and as languidly threatening as the zombies which it represents. Tombs of the Blind Dead is a monumental effort which, thankfully, few have attempted to emulate, thus permitting this masterpiece to retain its potency throughout the decades.

-Egregious Gurnow