#Julia Occhipinti

[baskervilleangel]

Nativity, A Lovely Night

“There they stood — against all the great goods, the unholy evils, saints, devils, Fate, and the Gods themselves, they made their own choice and they won. They chose family above all else. They chose love and affection, over hatred and bitterness. With that choice, they also helped those who didn’t have a family or people to love them. Isn’t that really the entire point of life?” — The False Angel of Mercy

The night was cold, long, and exceptionally extreme for the two women. The last few hours of the night were spent getting to know one another in the comfort and safety of Jules’ hideout. In all manner of weird ways Vierabrït continuously changed her hairstyle, varying between quirky and eccentric, she was interested in trying something new.

While Vierabrït played around, Jules took the time to shower and clear her porcelain skin of the blood and dirt that clung to it. They were safe for now and gifted with small pleasantries which alleviated some of the tension of the world, a shower was simply one of those pleasantries. It took her just short of a half hour to tidy herself. When she emerged from the bathroom her appearance was softer, less of a dismayed survivor.

There was a sleek shine to her raven-black hair. It flowed in slight waves and contrasted perfectly with her glowing, ivory reminiscent skin. Her eyes, which were framed perfectly by long lashes, seemed to have been made in Heaven. They were light, silver-green in color, and adorned with the markings that painted her eyes. They moved and locked onto Vierabrït who was continuing her activities in an absent minded daze. The witch could not help but smile — and her smile was full of dynamite.

And while she watched Vierabrït, she started to laugh a hearty laugh at every new hairstyle the Lockwood thought was beautiful or perfect. After the fourth hairstyle, Jules took it upon herself to freshen up the mysterious enigma that had started to call “friend”.

“All right, come here, V.” Jules insisted and motioned for Vierabrït to sit in between her legs.

Vierabrït wasted no time and eagerly complied with her friend. With a balletic skip, Vierabrït moved and sat on the floor right in front of Jules. Unfortunately, she had sat facing Jules and had to be turned around. In a rather delightful way, Vierabrït hummed the tune of “Holy Diver”, it was yet another song on Jules’ mix tape that Vierabrït fell in love with.

“Hey, I think it’d be better if I moved your bangs out of your face. What do you think, V?” Jules questioned.

“Mhm!” Vierabrït looked back and flashed her signature smile, it was apparent that she agreed with the witch.

The witch wasted no time once she obtained the confirmation. She grabbed a tuft of Vierabrït’s silky periwinkle hair and moved it backwards. The light that now shined upon Vierabrït’s face forced her pupils to constrict in a moderate way. The dried dirt and blood that covered her face was now more apparent than ever. It highlighted not just a deceptive savagery, but also her willingness to survive and protect her new friend.

In the midst of her hair styling Vierabrït decided that now may be a good time to read the family bestiary. She rummaged through her satchel for a bit then pulled out her very own bestiary. It had a periwinkle color to it and was adorned with sapphire like gems that sat neatly into the leather like material. Gliding her bloodstained hand across the brittle pages of the book she opened up to a random page and began reading in a quiet whisper. With small patters Vierabrït drummed against the page with her long finger, almost as if she was waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Jules, who had peaked over the girl’s shoulder, observed the pages of the book with great curiosity. The language that was written upon the crumbling pages was entirely foreign, unique in design even. Upon first glance, some of the words and letters were similar to Romanian or Moldavian; with another glance it was similar to Russian or Ukrainian.

“What Language is that?” Jules questioned yet again.

“I… I don’t know,” Vierabrït responded with a hint of sadness in her voice. “It never had a name. For the first few centuries of my life it has been the only language I have ever known.”

Once again, Jules was reminded that Vierabrït had a rather secluded life devoid of contact or any major social interactions outside that of her family, of course. Vierabrït hadn’t even known what Music was until a few hours ago. Nearly immediately, sadness dissipated and was replaced with an intense determination. Vierabrït was filled with this feeling, eagered to close the gap between the two of them.

“Its talking about me if you were curious! Maica wrote it just for me!” Vierabrït erupted in a confident demeanor.

“Its about you? Can you read it out loud? I’ve been wondering what you are…” Jules voice became low, she wanted to understand and learn.

“I ams friend! I can show you what it says too!” Vierabrït exclaimed and pulled off one of the flower petals that were bound to the page by wax. “Since Maica is traveling the otherworld, and the real one, she attached these rose petals to some of the pages of our bestiaries. They’re covered with her blood and her power so that we can hear her read them to us. Don’t worry, friend, she speaks the english. There are lots of nice pictures too!” Vierabrït continued on to say and handed her one of the rose petals.

“So this Maica… who are they?”

“My parent! I haven’t met her, but I am told she is best!”

“You have two mothers? That is pretty cool.” Jules responded, simply enjoying her time learning about Vierabrït.

It took about ten minutes for Jules to finish styling Vierabrït’s hair. Her hair was now swept back and held together by three braids which mingled perfectly with her straight hair. Jules held up a mirror which made Vierabrït smile incredibly wide.

“Thank you!!!” Vierabrït shouted intensely and hugged Jules.

“Its fine, V, really!” Jules spoke trying to separate her face from Vierabrït’s.

Vierabrït had eventually pulled away from the witch and narcissistically stared at her brand new hairstyle. While Vierabrït admired her friend’s handiwork Jules stared intently at the blood stained rose petal that was placed inbetween her two fingers. A violent and malignant energy radiated off of it, much like the feeling that Vierabrït gave off, yet far darker.

Cruelty. Unreasonable sadism. It was a sensation that could only truthfully be described as “evil”. In all honesty, it frightened Jules. She cocked an eyebrow towards Vierabrït and stared from the corner of her painted eyes.

“V,” Jules called out to Vierabrït. The Lockwood’s head snapped to Jules with an exquisite flourish of her periwinkle hair. Round lavender eyes met with Jules’ jade like eyes. “What the hell are you?” Jules continued in a rather grim tone.

Vierabrït quickly shifted her attention to the rose petal then back up to Jules’ eyes. Widely Vierabrït grinned and quickly raised her eyebrows, urging the witch.

“Eat and you will see!” She twirled, once again flourishing her new hair style.

Jules was a woman who had not trusted easily; as such, she was exceptionally hesitant. Especially with this feeling of dread that lingered from both, her new friend, and this bloodstained flower petal. But against that — against all the warning signs and red flags, she felt a sense of trust from Vierabrït. A compulsion to believe and trust her friend, and so she had.

With a sigh, and a quick motion, she ingested the Rose petal. In a single instant, shorter than the blink of an eye, darkness began to fall upon her. It was a temporary blindness that befell her, and with it came a fear that she had never known.

“Three vials of blood, manipulated by self righteous foolishness.” A menacing and feminine lilting voice spoke to Jules. It was an accent that the witch could place, yet it was different from Vierabrït’s. “Seven shillings tossed to the whims of fate. Five beasts born of blood and evil across endless millennia.”

While the voice spoke baleful visages stormed her mind and besieged her sight. She saw three vials of blood that were spilled against the ground. The seven shillings, which were marked by that very same blood, cutting through the air. Then finally, she saw them. Eyes emanating an iridescent glow from the darkness that was just out of her reach. Above those eyes, reaching into the clouds, was a woman dressed in red observing the witch beyond the napalm skies.

All of this faded in the same obscuring darkness that had initially drenched her, and once again her sight was robbed from her. Then, like before, vision returned to her; but it was not her own. She saw a place she had never been and moved about without her say so. This place, this home, was comprised of neglected wooden floors, and filled with glass bottles in odd shapes. Baubles that adorned the walls alongside tapestries and paintings of people she had never known. If she didn’t know better, she would assume them as witches things.

When she had reached the bathroom she realized that she was not in her own body. But someone entirely foreign, much like the dwelling she had been forced to explore. This woman stared at the mirror and back at Jules from the reflection of the mirror.

In attire this woman was highly similar to Jules. She wore a black long-sleeved henley which fit her form perfectly. The sleeves were somewhat long and covered the back of her hands. Jules could even make out the dirtied black Jeans the woman had wore. It wasn’t until the woman spoke that Jules discovered her identity.

“Vierabrït, the gentlest and kindest of my children, I hope you are well, my darling.” The woman crossed her arms and gave a smile without baring her white fangs. “I have a present for you, I’ll put it in your bestiary when I deliver it. I want you and your elder sister to put them on only in the most desperate of situations… I know I can’t be there with you and your mother right now. But, I’m going to answer a few questions; some that may have been plaguing you for quite some time. The first, and most important thing, is that you are what is called a “Tribrid”. Like me, you are part Lycian. Like your mother and I, you are Bloodborne — well, Ţânкомар to be exact. Then finally, when you come of age, you will awaken the third part of you. Maybe that part of you will be a Primera, or maybe a Sabaoth like your mother. Who knows, maybe you’ll even be a Paradigma like me. I want you to know that with your immortal life you can choose to walk the path I treaded upon, or even your mother — or you can make your own. You have so many choices and we’re no longer bound by a twisted fate. I want you to know something else…” She paused for a brief moment, and moved her hand to wipe away the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“I’ll be there soon, I promise you that. And no matter what choice you make — I will always love you. I cannot wait to see the woman you grew up to be.”

Despite the evil Jules has felt from these two, she could not help but feel sad for them. When Vierabrït’s mother, Viola, placed her two fingers upon her lips then the mirror Jules understood then. Vierabrït’s demeanor, her kindness and jubilation, was no act. She had not feigned any of this. In fact, she understood something far more important. The Lockwoods, Vierabrït’s family, were evil by nature, but chose a different path. They chose another way, and that was the most important thing.

The disheartening images dwindled back to the gloom they came from, and the world transitioned back to the one Jules had known — and loathed. Vierabrït hovered over Jules’ face, a bit to close for comfort even. Apparently, Jules had collapsed during her trip into Viola’s memories.

“Oh good! I thought I unalived you!” Vierabrït said cheerfully and lifted Jules off the ground and back onto her.

“I have more questions than answers but I think I understand you more, in some weird magical way.” Jules looked at Vierabrït for a moment, a bit tired from the psychological strain, then she did something incredibly out of character. Without warning, Jules pulled her friend into a hug and held her in a tight embrace.

“Thank you. For being my friend, and saving my life — twice.”

“Its okay, friend! You ams good friend.” Vierabrït wasn’t confused by the sudden change in Jules demeanor. In fact, she hugged the witch back as delicately as she could.

“I could just be tired, but I think I actually understood that.”

Jules yawned a bit and rubbed her eyes before she pulled away from Vierabrït. A moment later, Jules found herself lumbering back to her bass, staggering all the way. It didn’t take long for the witch to find her way back to the couch so she could relax and play her bass. When Jules yawned again five minutes later Vierabrït responded in a rather adorable way.

“You should assault the straw!” Vierabrït’s wide round eyes locked onto Jules’ as she spoke. Just as soon as Jules thought she had a decent understanding of Vierabrït’s vocabulary she quickly found herself confused once again.

“I should what?” Jules asked and glanced up at Vierabrït. The sound that emanated from her bass came to an immediate halt.

“You should assault the straw!” She repeated, believing that Jules hadn’t heard her. In all reality, Jules was asking for clarity instead of the same question. “You know? Sleep. As you mortals often do.” Vierabrït continued. When she had, Jules immediately understood what Vierabrït was trying to say.

“Hay.” Jules responded to correct the young Vierabrït’s vocabulary.

“Oh, hey!” Vierabrït responded excitedly, believing now that Jules was trying to greet her for some odd reason.

“The saying is “Hit the hay” not “Assault the straw”, V.” Jules sighed and chuckled a bit. Spending time with Vierabrït was actually something that she subtly enjoyed.

Before long, and quite unexpected, Jules had fallen asleep, a much needed reprieve from the endless adventure that awaited them just beyond the wooden doors. Vierabrït, who had not needed to sleep, stayed up and listened to Jules’ mixtape.

After an hour or two she began to wonder what sleep was like. She had never done it, but she knew she was capable of it. She had never dreamed, nor had a nightmare. So, she snuggled up next to Jules, who had instinctively embraced the Lockwood, and attempted to fall asleep.

There they laid, bidding farewell to the distorted stars, and waited for the break of dawn with new understanding of one another. For the first time ever, Vierabrït dreamed of something spectacular. A world without monsters, evil nor fear. Only her friend and her family, living their best lives.

[vivianascarincilibellulalab]

Si sta come d’autunno

Si sta come d’autunno

L’autunno è arrivato decisamente portando con sé alcuni avvenimenti e temi su cui riflettere. È stato pubblicato il numero 120 de Il Segnale con i suoi quaranta anni di pubblicazione, senza interruzioni, della rivista. Sta in quel numero così importante l’articolo cui ho fatto riferimento qui la cui traccia è stata così stimolante per me che tuttora non smetto nel mio piccolo di interrogarmi su …

[johnnymundano]

A Blade in the Dark (1983) (AKA La casa con la scala nel buio)

Directed by Lamberto Bava

Screenplay by Elisa Briganti and Dardano Sacchetti

Music by Guido & Maurizio De Angelis

Country: Italy

Running Time: 101 minutes

CAST

Andrea Occhipinti as Bruno

Lara Lamberti as Julia (as Lara Naszinski)

Fabiola Toledo as Angela

Anny Papa as Sandra

Stanko Molnar as Giovanni

Valeria Cavalli as Katia

Michele Soavi as Tony Rendina

Giovanni Frezza as young boy in film clip

Lamberto Bava (cameo in editing room)

(Apology: the pics aren’t too hot because the print wasn’t too hot. Probably something to do with A Blade in the Dark being shot on 35mm (for TV) then blown up for 70mm (cinema). Or just the usual pot luck of Blu-Ray transfers.)

A Blade in the Dark is a 1983 giallo by Lamberto Bava which doesn’t exactly disgrace itself, but nor is it as flamboyantly trashy as you might expect from the director of the nonsense classic Delirium (1987). It’s like Delirium’s better behaved but far duller cousin. While A Blade in the Dark doesn’t make you want to run around without your trousers on, nor does it make you want to take up golf. It’s…okay. Much like the house most  of the movie is set in, A Blade in the Dark possesses too many vacant stretches for comfort, but every now and again there’s an item of interest that makes you glad you bothered. Sometimes it’s a gruesome kill, sometimes it’s something agreeably ridiculous like a small kid in a bad wig, sometimes it’s something heart swellingly surreal like an indoor rain of tennis balls, sometimes it’s just the hope that Bruno will change his jumper, but there’s usually something to keep you awake before too long. True, the movie title does fib about the dark; it’s not actually very dark, even at night; but there is definitely a blade or two, and that’s’ what matters in a giallo. Well, it’s hardly nut-tight plotting and believable characters that matters, is it now? C’mon.

So, in case you were wondering what the set-up is…Bruno (Andrea Occhipinti), a somewhat dull witted composer with bad taste in jumpers, rents a large house from twitchy Tony Rendina (Michele Soavi) in order to work on the score to a giallo, but soon finds his work rate impaired by a series of bizarre occurrences. Occurrences which strongly suggest someone is bumping off young women in the house whenever his back is turned. With a singular lack of bodies and only a slashed up spank mag and a bunch of suggestive blood stains to back him up, Bruno decides not to contact the police but instead raises his concerns with the two people he knows and the gardener, who all basically tell him he’s soft in the head. Bruno might not be a very exciting person but he could have a point. Why do female visitors mysteriously disappear? Why is there blood on the bushes and in the bathroom? Who is the mysterious Linda? What’s that stink coming out of the pool filter? Why would anyone keep a suitcase full of tennis balls? Who rents out a house this badly furnished? Is Bruno just a morbid bugger or is there (da-da-DA!!) really a killer in the house? [Spoiler: there’s really a killer in the house.]

In my defence, it’s not much of a spoiler as we see the murders in all their gory glory. Bruno is a singularly unimaginative man so it’s never in doubt that this is really happening; this isn’t one of those tricksy movies where it’s all going on in someone’s mad head. No, A Blade in the Dark is not exactly unpredictable plot-wise. You will probably guess who the killer is, but you will fail to guess why, as the explanation is as rewardingly “say what now?!?” as in any giallo worth its ketchup. A Blade in the Dark might have a noticeable tension deficiency, but it sure has some murders in it. Without wishing to sound like a thoroughly reprehensible individual, they are quite good murders too; even if the build ups are a bit too long-winded. There’s only so much panicked running away you can watch without starting to suspect the victim’s heart really isn’t in this getting away lark. Eventually, though, the killer corners them and gets stuck in, usually with a craft-knife. This is the killer’s preferred weapon, mainly because it’s available; like many composers Bruno has one lying about along with his spank mags on his work desk. (Oscar® winning movie score composer John Williams never starts a score without a copy of Juggly Wugglies and a craft-knife to hand.) But the killer isn’t too fussy and if a massive kitchen knife, a wrench or a spool of film is at hand then that’ll do. A good giallo killer should always be adaptable.

A Blade in the Dark was originally made for Italian TV so I was a bit taken aback by the levels of violence on show. Nowadays, sure, anything goes. “Won’t anyone think of the children!”; it’s the end of decency and humanity, blah, blah,  and all that. But back in 1983 I’m not sure television was ready for a scene where a woman’s hair washing is interrupted by a knife through the hand, a bag over her face and a repeated and very determined face-sink interaction. Turns out, television wasn’t ready for that, so I win that one. Originally filmed as four half-hour parts of a TV mystery series (Brutal Lady Murder Mystery Half Hour?), with each part ending with a murder, A Blade in the Dark logistically requires a minimum of 4 murders. But Bruno only knows 2 women - his scatty actress girlfriend Julia (Lara Lamberti) and the oddball director of the giallo he’s working on, Angela (Fabiola Toledo).

Julia likes to show up unannounced, sex Bruno up and tell lies, while Angela, like many movie directors no doubt, thinks ringing Bruno up and threatening to kill him in a creepy voice is a real thighslapper of a joke. Obviously both these ladies are a bit freak-ay and thus squarely in the frame as the craft-knife wielding killer, so to maintain the suspense someone else has to get slaughtered upfront. Luckily the house has a swimming pool. As we all know swimming pools attract young women like inappropriate internet content attracts men. And you never know when a young woman might fall out of  a cupboard, for reasons even she seems unsure of. By hook or by crook A Blade in the Dark gets its murders in. Basically, it’s the kills that lift A Blade in the Dark out of mediocrity. Well, the kills and one other thing. Surprisingly this thing turns out to be a lively, self-deprecating intelligence.

While A Blade in the Dark’s TV origins might lead you to expect an approach as dull as Bruno’s jumper, that’s misleading. It certainly caught me quite off guard with the first trick it plays (no spoilers), but that isn’t the only trick this cheeky monkey plays; which is even more surprising. Because, for reasons known only to itself, A Blade in the Dark gets a bit meta, which is fun; it’s even more fun because it just can’t quite manage to pull it off. That’s okay, when meta works it always feels a bit smug; wonky meta is way better. I like my meta a bit rough round the edges, but that could just be me. The crux of the meta is the movie within the movie. Crucially, the movie Bruno is scoring and Angela is directing may contain the key to the mystery. It definitely contains Giovanni Frezza, who has now appeared in so many movies I’ve watched recently (Demons, The House by the Cemetery and this one) I fear he may be haunting me, like that guy in Wes Craven’s Shocker (1986).

But I digress, the line between that in-movie movie and the movie you are watching is blurred occasionally to enjoyably disquieting effect.  Mostly A Blade in the Dark does this by having a bit of fun via Bruno’s music, with that diegetic and non-diegetic business people like to go on about to look smart, and then they wonder why no one invites them to parties. There’s no consistency or real point to A Blade in the Dark’s metatastic boondogglery, but it is fun. Basically, its reach exceeds its grasp, but, hey, points for trying. (NB: If you want to watch a meta-(neo) giallo where the meta actually works (and without any smuggery) then see Berberian Sound Studio (2012)). As TV shows rejigged into movies go, A Blade in the Dark is no Mullholland Drive (2001) but it is just luridly nonsensical enough to be a decent giallo. And there ain’t no harm in that.

[baskervilleangel]

PRIMER

Before you descent into the intuitive madness of the Baskerville universe, I implore you to read this short primer to ready yourself for the first few chapters of Part III. This new part in the series will be split into two distinctive stories which will occasionally intersect. While some readers will be familiar with this arc’s predecessors and refresh their mind with a trip down memory lane, newcomers to the series will greatly benefit from reading these introductions to the world of Baskerville and noteworthy characters — both old and new.

Julia “Jules” Occhipinti - The Lady with the Painted Eyes

[baskervilleangel]

Julia “Jules” Occhipinti

Mysterious and alluring, Jules is a witch with an otherworldly connection to the Lockwood family. Using the power of witchcraft Jules has the biggest arsenal among any of the characters shown thus far. Armed with Jinxes, charms, spells and curses she serves as a versatile ally and a devastating enemy.

Should she decide to help on the frontlines of battle she’ll use her trusty artifacts of power — The Ouija 9 and the Black Cat; a powerful enchanted pistol that could put down the strongest of enemies and a black hunting knife used to dissuade those who can’t keep their hands to themselves.

Age - 23

Height - 167.6 cm (5’6’’)

Weight - 55.3kg (122lbs)

Arcana - The Chariot

Species - Carnivora Witch

Soul Drive - ???

Occupation - Hunter/Witch

Gender - Female

Nationality - American

Hair - Black

Eyes - Dark Green

Talents - Avid Bass Player, Exceptional make-up application, uncanny motorcycle control.

Likes - Metal Music, Motorcycles, Make-Up, Fist fighting awful human beings.

Dislikes - Disgusting human beings.