'The Night Evelyn Came Out of The Grave' (1971) – Emilio P. Miraglia.

Sleekly fashioned during the hysterical heyday of inventively insane Italian exploitation, sublimely visual director Miraglia's deservedly lauded, ghoulishly grisly, tomb trifling chiller is, perhaps, one of the darker manifestations of delectably feverish, jet-set Giallo-Gothic of the period, part Edgar Allan Poe psychodrama, and boisterously body part lashing S&M nightmare, a resplendently Giallo by 'Gaslight', this remarkably risqué, kaleidoscopically cool celluloid cocktail offers a diabolically potent kick to the noggin, one that should leave vintage Gialli fans not only profoundly shaken, but even those already entombed within their graves might also become greatly disturbed too!

Maestro Miraglia's 'The Night Evelyn Came Out of The Grave' opens at a feverish gait with the deliriously deranged, dope-ravaged terror toff Sir. Cunningham (Anthony Steffen) frantically attempting to break out of the good doctor Giacomo Rossi Stewart's private psychiatric clinic, and the bravura filmmaker excitingly maintains this helter-skelter, doomy descent into misanthropic mania right up until the deliciously bloodthirsty, divinely convoluted, skin-splittingly sinister climax that generously glisters with all the excessively effervescent lunacy and luridly lascivious murder madness to transfix both Giallo aficionados and Euro-cult neophytes alike! Frequently audacious, this beautifully composed midnight-hued nightmare is sordidly set within the moribund, mouldering confines of the greatly dilapidated Cunningham Estate, a diabolically dank domicile wherein the vulpine villainy of feisty redhead Erica Blanc and magisterial Maria Malfati wickedly wax their saucily invidious intrigues, and this decadent diorama of dangerous duplicity is eerily electrified by yet another dreamily enticing soundtrack, whose uncommonly lush brilliance is why the sublimely gifted Bruno Nicolai's enormous talent is held in such high regard to this very day!