Editor’s Note: This was originally published for FANGORIA on October 12, 2006, and we’re proud to share it as part of The Gingold Files.
Watch the exemplary new transfer of Mariano Baino’s Dark Waters on NoShame’s DVD, and you’ll be amazed how good it looks. Check out the audio commentary and documentary on the disc, and you’ll be amazed there’s a movie to look at at all.
Any filmmaker on any budget level who thinks they had problems on their shoot will count their blessings after they hear about what Baino and co. went through to get this supernatural chiller (first released to U.S. VHS in 1998 as Dead Waters) in the can. The movie was shot on remote Russian locations that provide the proper forbidding atmosphere but took a full day’s drive to reach, and that was just the beginning of the challenges. At the very start, the production manager saw to it that only a few hours of filming could be achieved per day; the cinematographer did his own best to undercut the shoot; the FX supervisor left the project early on. There are plenty more stories like this, and perhaps only the distance of a decade could allow Baino (accompanied on the commentary by disc producer Michele De Angelis) to recount all this tsuris was such good humor and enthusiasm.
A few of his commentary anecdotes are recounted on the lengthy “Deep Into Dark Waters” feature, but there are plenty of fresh tales shared by Baino, lead actress Louise Salter and assorted crewpeople. Here we learn more about the difficulties in dealing with the locals (and the local food), the fact that the second part of the filming took place in Kiev, which was still suffering the radioactive fallout of the Chernobyl disaster (!), etc. Yet amongst it all, there are uplifting stories of triumph (a major crypt-flooding sequence brought off in one take), and examples of necessity being the mother of invention. When the 86-year-old actress cast as the creepy Mother Superior proved to speak no English, Baino had her whisper to an underling who relayed the dialogue in the scenes—a nicely freaky touch. Left to their own devices as the shoot dragged on, the crew created bizarre props to pass the time, which the director wound up using onscreen. And there’s a very funny story in the doc about the origins of a helicopter shot.
Even amidst all this, Baino takes sufficient time in his discussion track to relay his influences, his ideas about religion and ideology and how they informed the feature. “Deep” also covers the postproduction and selling of the film, with a very amusing revelation about how the low-tech ADR was done. Somehow, out of all the hurdles and improvisation came a solidly crafted and richly atmospheric film, which doesn’t always make narrative sense—though Baino points out that he didn’t want to spell everything out for the viewer—but evokes plenty of chills nonetheless. Salter, whose first film this was, anchors the proceedings as a heroine (investigating a convent where strange rituals occur following her sister’s murder there) who is neither a shrinking violet nor foolishly brave, while the local faces and scenery utilized by Baino help create a compelling odd environment around her.
And it all looks fantastic in NoShame’s 1.85:1 transfer, sporting remarkable colors and clarity in both the picturesque exteriors and the often dank, gloomy interiors. The image holds the varied hues very well, from orange torchlight to deep blue night skies (and both, in a couple of impressive cases, in the same shot). The sound is Dolby Digital mono only, but is nice and clear. Also included on the disc are a collection of deleted scenes—every last frame trimmed from the movie since its initial completion, including one shot that’s right out of Suspiria; a gag reel revealing that there was some fun to be had on the strenuous shoot; and a lengthy animated presentation of stills, behind-the-scenes photos and eye-catching production art. “I really think in this case, the words ‘special edition’ are well-deserved,” a candlelit Baino says in his introduction, and he’s absolutely right.
And that’s just what you get on the first disc, which is also available separately. The limited-edition (3,000 units) boxed set appends it with a color booklet chock full of pics, sketches and reproduced script excerpts, plus a small reproduction of a demonic amulet crucial to the story (“not a toy,” we’re warned on its label) and a second disc showcasing Baino’s short movies. Dream Car, his very first work, is about what happens when the young protagonist gets trapped in the titular vehicle, and shows a Dario Argento influence with its moving camera, voyeuristic themes and Goblin-esque score but stops short of being a slavish homage. Caruncula is a somewhat more expressionistic (and very nasty) tale of murder and cannibalism, while Never Ever After, the director’s most recent movie, is best described as a medical grim fairy tale.
The first and third of these were shot on video and are presented letterboxed (needless to say, Never looks much better than Car), while Cauncula was lensed on film and is given a rich fullscreen transfer. Baino and De Angelis provide commentary on all three, and there’s also a brief behind-the-scenes piece on Never; between them, the filmmaker imparts plenty of information in short amounts of time (explaining a narrative point in Caruncula that’s not entirely clear while he’s at it), and the Never featurette reveals that Baino shot the visually striking minimovie in what started as a simple room. He’s clearly got healthy filmmaking chops, and now that Dark Waters is finally out in the world as it should be, here’s hoping he brings us his second feature soon—and with a lot less difficulty.
