A.V. Opinions: I love the Italian Horror vibes of Phantasm and Prince of Darkness
When Halloween rolls around, we tend to dust off the usual horror favorites, Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, but if you’re looking for something different and uniquely atmospheric this spooky season, you might want to pop in Phantasm (1979) and Prince of Darkness (1987). These two films may not scream “classic” to everyone, but there’s an uncanny charm to both, largely due to a subtle yet powerful Italian horror influence that sets them apart from typical American fare.
I’ll admit, growing up, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Phantasm. Its surreal plot, bizarre villains, and dreamlike structure didn’t quite hit for me at first. But as the years passed, the movie grew on me in a way I didn’t expect. The same can be said for John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness, a film that for years felt like an odd outlier in Carpenter’s otherwise tightly woven filmography. I’m a huge Carpenter fan, but this movie, one of his lesser-discussed works, keeps calling me back, almost hypnotically. There’s something profoundly strange and unsettling about Prince of Darkness, an ethereal quality that makes it endlessly rewatchable. And in both movies, you can sense that influence of Italian horror, the style, the atmosphere, the feeling of stepping into a fever dream rather than a straightforward horror story. It’s this “Italian sensibility” that makes these films so enduring and special.
So, what exactly is this Italian horror influence? To start, Italian horror, particularly the giallo subgenre, leans heavily into atmosphere, visual flair, and dream logic over coherent, structured narratives. Directors like Dario Argento, Mario Bava, and Lucio Fulci were masters at creating horror worlds that felt like disjointed nightmares, more concerned with evoking emotions and creeping unease than explaining everything to the viewer.
This is where Phantasm and Prince of Darkness truly connect with Italian horror. Both films thrive on mood and tone rather than clear-cut storytelling. Don Coscarelli’s Phantasm feels like it could’ve been plucked straight from Italian cinema. The plot, if you can even call it that, revolves around a young boy named Mike and his discovery of a mysterious undertaker, The Tall Man, who may be harvesting the dead for sinister purposes. That’s the basic gist, but Phantasm doesn’t follow traditional narrative structure. It’s more of a sensory experience, a fever dream where the lines between reality and nightmare blur continuously.
In Italian horror fashion, Phantasm isn’t about explanations. Why does The Tall Man exist? What’s the deal with those killer silver spheres? Why are the dead being crushed into dwarf slaves? None of that really matters. What matters is how Phantasm makes you feel. It’s a world where nothing makes sense, but everything is ominous, and that’s what makes it so compelling, even if it took me years to appreciate it.
John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness is another film that shares this Italian horror DNA, even if it’s less obvious. Unlike Carpenter’s more straightforward works like Halloween or The Thing, Prince of Darkness feels like it’s teetering on the edge of dream logic. The film revolves around a group of scientists and priests who discover an ancient evil, a swirling green liquid, locked in the basement of a church. What unfolds is a strange, claustrophobic nightmare of possession, quantum physics, and ancient religion, all blending into a dense, dreamlike horror.
What stands out here is the atmosphere. Much like Coscarelli’s Phantasm, Prince of Darkness is soaked in mood. Italian horror films are often known for their strange, hypnotic pace, and Carpenter channels that beautifully in Prince of Darkness. While the science-meets-demonic possession plot might sound clear on paper, watching it unfold feels much like walking through a nightmare.
Both Phantasm and Prince of Darkness are soaked in that moody, otherworldly atmosphere that Italian horror does so well. Italian filmmakers knew that horror wasn’t just about the story, it was about the sensory experience. Vivid colors, unusual sound design, and a dreamlike flow make you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. That’s what you get with these two films. They embrace that surreal quality, that lack of grounded logic, which makes Italian horror so distinctive.
What makes these films even more compelling is that they blend this Italian sensibility with distinctly American horror. You have the suburban dread of Phantasm, with its small-town feel and coming-of-age elements, paired with that abstract giallo-like atmosphere. Prince of Darkness combines Carpenter’s love for grounded, everyman heroes with an unsettling, metaphysical horror that feels like it could have easily come from an Italian director.
So as Halloween approaches, it’s easy to reach for the same horror staples, but if you’re in the mood for something offbeat, eerie, and soaked in atmosphere, give Phantasm and Prince of Darkness another shot. There’s nothing quite like these movies. They feel fresh every time you revisit them, and they offer something different from the standard American horror experience. They are layered films that reward repeat viewings, films that get better with age. There’s a reason I keep going back to them. They have that special something, a weird, hypnotic pull that reminds me of why Italian horror has endured. These movies aren’t just stories, they’re experiences, and that’s what makes them so endlessly fascinating. If these films haven’t been on your radar, or if you haven’t seen them in a while, now might be the perfect time to add them to your Halloween rotation. Pop them in and prepare for a journey into the surreal.
Brad McBoom