A New York family (Paolo Malco, Catriona MacColl and Giovanni Frezza) moves into a derelict New England house with a tombstone in the living room and a cannibal in the basement, but presumably better schools in the local area.

The third part of Lucio Fulci’s ‘Gates of Hell’ trilogy finds the Italian Godfather of Gore paying tribute to H.P. Lovecraft and Henry James, mixed with his usual cauldron of spaghetti splatter. The 1981 movie’s limitations in acting, writing and characterisation render the gothic elements much less effective than the bloodletting, which Fulci relishes with his usual enthusiasm for misuse of red paint.

That said, between the Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace dialogue (“Most of the old houses in the area have tombs in them.”), there is something oddly mesmeric about the film’s splintered logic. Why do the “New Whitby” locals seem to think the father has visited before? Why is he so intent on pushing pills on his wife? And what’s up with the mysterious babysitter (Ania Pieroni) who seems so unfazed by mopping a gallon of blood off the floor? Exactly how many babies has she sat on?

Whether these loose threads are deliberately left hanging or forgotten in a haze of paint fumes, it builds a creaky ambiguity into the foundations of the picture, on which Fulci’s gory kills leave a bloody imprint. Certainly more so than The Shining wannabe child and his ghost girlfriend, made more laughable by his voice being dubbed by an adult doing his best impression of the worst child he’s ever met.

Other parts are wilfully comical, including a two-minute bat attack, and the equally batty story of cellar-dwelling Victorian surgeon Dr. Freudstein (Giovanni De Nava). The result is brutal, frustrating and hysterical, and while it looks in danger of falling apart at any moment, The House by the Cemetery keeps you in its catchment area.