I blame it on my mother: she recited poetry by Edgar Allan Poe to me when I was a kid and told me scary stories when I went to bed each night; I came to treasure the chills that a good Horror story, well told, could invoke. Then came George Romero and NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. It was a game changer, an uncompromising, brutal depiction of Life in these so-called "united" $tate$. Fright Films had suddenly EVOLVED into something Other than what they had been- and at the helm was Romero, co-writing and directing it all. NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, with its documentary look and feel, ventured into uncharted territory (and, ironically considering the number of rip-offs it has inspired, no one else saw Fright Films as an opportunity to comment on The State of Affairs in this country) (not until John Carpenter came along, anyway). Romero became my Hero, and when it was announced that he would be producing a Horror series for television, I began submitting scripts as fast as I could write them. (In my arrogant ignorance, I'd already submitted a script for a sequel to DAWN OF THE DEAD... Two movies made me want to MAKE movies: John Carpenter's HALLOWEEN and George Romero's DAWN OF THE DEAD.) While none of my scripts for TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE were ever used, I WAS lucky enough to get a kindly rejection from Romero himself. I'd sent him three issues of a self-published prose magazine I'd written and illustrated and he wrote back: "Some of the pieces are really fine." Coming from the man who gave us NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD and DAWN OF THE DEAD, this was Praise, indeed! My nieces and nephews were weaned on Romero's movies. Just a few hours ago, I read that Romero died yesterday. The shock hit me first, followed by the pain that can only come when a knife has pierced the heart and entered the Soul. I tried to tell my wife, but talking was all but impossible; I went and sat in the car, numb and sick to my stomach, and cried off and on. Romero was a Hero of mine, one of only a handful of people in this life who've inspired me to try harder, to try to do something other than just sit and watch the World pass by; but his passing has taken the wind out of my sails. I'd hoped to finally meet him face to face at a Horror convention later this year. It's hard to believe that I now live in a world WITHOUT George Romero. I'll never get to shake his hand and joke with him. And I'll never again hear my Mother lulling me to sleep with a softly-whispered Tale of Terror.Damn, what a day.

George Romero and Dario Argento, two great horror directors, tackling two short stories by Edgar Allan Poe. Sounds like a surefire hit. So why isn't it? Romero writes and directs his story, "The Facts in the Case of Mr. Valdemar." It's about a woman (Adrienne Barbeau) whose rich husband, Ernest Valdemar, is on his deathbed. A doctor (Ramy Zada) she's been having an affair with hypnotizes Valdemar into signing over all of his money to his wife. But Valdemar dies while hypnotized so he's stuck in between life & death and is surprisingly unhappy about it.The biggest problem with Romero's story is that it feels like it was made for television. The annoyingly cheap and ceaseless music score doesn't help. Barbeau is the best part. She makes a paper-thin character work. She's also some very nice eye candy. E.G. Marshall plays Valdemar's attorney, who knows something is up but can't do much about it. Tom Atkins plays a homicide detective who conveniently answers 911 calls about screaming neighbors. The climax sees Romero turning Poe's story into something that belonged in Creepshow, which Romero directed and Barbeau, Atkins, and Marshall also appeared in. If this story was the entire movie, I might rate it a little higher. It's not great and there are big problems (that music!) but it's a passable time-killer. However, the other story drags the score down.The Argento story is more stylishly directed, as you might expect. It's also more poorly written, as you might also expect. It's got lots of Poe references to establish Argento is clearly a fan but there's nothing of Poe's talent in this one. The story is "The Black Cat" and it's about a crime scene photographer (Harvey Keitel) who kills his girlfriend's cat. Then he goes crazy and it's a whole thing. Honestly, even with Keitel's bizarre performance and Argento's visuals, this one was a snoozer for me.I think if you look at some of the other reviews here, particularly from those who love the movie, you'll see I'm in the minority on this. Most people seem to prefer Argento's story and hate Romero's. In a way, I get that. Argento has more style and a devoted cult following. I have enjoyed several of his horror films, though not enough to call myself a big fan of his. So take that into consideration. If you're someone who generally prefers a Dario Argento type of horror film, you are likely to prefer the second story to the first. Either way I'll be surprised if you love either of them, as they are both pretty mediocre.

Romero's half is actually not bad. Seems to work with the expertise of his genre and Poe's story. Builds the suspense gradually and has a creepy tone to it. And then Tom Atkins shows up as a detective, puffin' a cigar while holding a gun. That's worth a watch alone.7/10 Argento's half ain't bad either. Nudity and visual trademarks are present. Thought Keitel's character wearing a beret alone was dumb, but at least that was something to laugh at. It had an unnecessary scene involving medieval times which added nothing. The third act turned into a parody of some kind, not to mention the kid that comes in for a session with the trimmed sleeves "he's lying, lying!" Retarded ending, but funny.6/10

It's always tricky to evaluate a filmmaker when at work on a film that is in an in-between realm of short and feature. Actually, by technical ruling (or what would be considered by most festivals), it is feature-length with each segment. But I found Two Evil Eyes an underrated effort, after reading many mixed reviews (many leaning to the lesser side for especially Romero's film, and some faint praise for Argento's). The Facts in the Case of Mr. Valdemar and The Black Cat are not the tippy-toppest best for either filmmaker, and for Romero it's a strange kind of quasi-conventional experiment while Argento stays in somewhat familiar territory. Each has its own strengths, own weaknesses, and it's a fine little treat.'Valdemar': This starts with the veneer of what comes in the range of something like a cross between daytime Soap and a 40s melodrama. A woman (Adrienne Barbeau) married Mr. Valdemar late in life, and as he's about to die (and soon does) she stands to collect a load of money with her cuckold- a smooth operating doctor who has a knack for hypnosis.What unfolds after his death, and their cover-up in order to secure more funds, is something still like a 'living-dead' movie for the director, but more psychological in head-games and, to be sure, a faithfulness to the Poe source. It is a peculiar feat to adjust to in seeing Romero, at least in the first half hour, directing more like an old pro of the studio era than with his trademark panache in editing and shocks.This time he brings on the dread in a gradual fashion, built on guilt and paranoia, and then as Valdemar is in that freezer, a Gothic form of psychosis: two people stuck with a body, and a voice, they can't get rid of and become absorbed with. I liked it a lot- maybe more than I should have from what I read (the 'Soap' argument against it I read before, though Romero does try to give his actors more to work with than any hack would)- as it preys on the fear of death as not a final measure, with one last wicked kick in the nuts with that bed scene. Top shelf Romero? Not quite, but it's still oddly gripping, like a polished piece of clichés giving way to a wild head game of "old-school" horror.8/10 'Black Cat': Argento's dip in the Poe pool goes to the lengths that he as a director always goes to: elaborate-to-the-Italian-horror degree style in camera and deranged horror, and even bits of dark horror that almost make Poe seem tame. I can't say how much this is tied into Poe more than I can Valdemar, but try as I might I couldn't see this as being totally peak Argento either, despite (or almost in spite of) everything he has going for it. Like Valdemar, it's about someone not coping with life after death; a photographer (Keitel) into the macabre, with a (color me shocked Argento) violinist girlfriend, has a black cat, whom the photographer strangles while taking some provocative photos. She knows he's behind it, but he can't stop himself- he needs another cat- just like the old cat- which will meet some grisly consequences.Keitel's always game for something like this part, which plays like his Bad Lieutenant gone Grand Guignol, which makes for one of the best pleasures of the project. He doesn't have a whole lot of range in the role, but it's a fun one for him, chewing on the meat that Argento throws out for him scene after scene. Argento, meanwhile, even for *him* overdoes it with the horror music in certain scenes, and dares to go to too much excess with the symbolism of the white spots on the cat. But it's totally a wonder to see that dream sequence, where Keitel is in the midst of a medieval Pagan sacrifice, with a sharp cut-away in the most violent bit. And I loved the pleasure that Argento takes in enlivening Poe's macabre with his own, with the violence extending from mania into the visual. I had my complaints at times, but it's hard to not throw up one's hands with Argento and say "why carp!" when he's unabashed in his passions of mostly constant camera movement (tracking, cranes, close-ups, pans, you-name-it) and illogical steps in plot (i.e. why Keitel's character would even put out a book with cat deaths knowing his girlfriend might see them, let alone so soon). 8/10 Bottom line, fans of the directors should check out the films, and decide for themselves how they do. It's two tall tales of curses and death, derangement and the surreal, and it's a concoction worth at least one viewing.