In the shadowed cloisters of cinema, two demonic nuns rise from the grave of Gothic horror: one forged in the fog of 1960s Italy, the other clawing from modern Conjuring shadows. Which truly captures the essence of eternal dread?

Black Sunday and The Nun stand as towering pillars in the Gothic horror pantheon, each wielding the iconography of the unholy sister to evoke primal fears. Mario Bava’s 1960 masterpiece drips with baroque dread, while Corin Hardy’s 2018 entry pulses with franchise-fueled frenzy. This comparison unearths their shared roots in religious terror, dissecting atmospheres, performances, and legacies to reveal how Gothic horror evolves yet endures.

  • Atmospheric mastery: Bava’s monochrome poetry versus Hardy’s desaturated digital gloom, both amplifying cloistered isolation.
  • Thematic depths: The corrupting veil of faith, female monstrosity, and historical hauntings in contrasting eras.
  • Enduring impact: From Italian giallo foundations to blockbuster supernatural dominance, reshaping nun-centric nightmares.

Veils of Eternal Night: Gothic Foundations Unearthed

Black Sunday, released in 1960 as La maschera del demonio, plunges viewers into the misty Carpathians where Princess Asa Vajda, a 17th-century sorceress, faces fiery execution alongside her lover, executed via the dreaded Mask of Satan. Resurrected centuries later by unwitting scientists, Asa possesses her doppelganger, Princess Katia, unleashing vampiric horrors upon a cursed village. Barbara Steele’s dual performance as both witch and innocent anchors the film’s hypnotic pull, her porcelain features twisted into eternal malice. Mario Bava, wielding the camera like a sorcerer’s wand, crafts a visual symphony in stark black and white, where fog-shrouded castles and cobwebbed crypts breathe with otherworldly life.

Contrast this with The Nun, a 2018 prequel in the Conjuring universe directed by Corin Hardy. Set in 1952 Romania, novice Sister Irene, alongside the battle-hardened Father Burke and local Frenchie, probes a suicide at Saint Carta Monastery. The entity Valak, manifesting as a towering demonic nun, desecrates holy ground with inverted crosses and blood-soaked visions. Taissa Farmiga’s Irene embodies wide-eyed piety crumbling under assault, while the production’s vast abbey sets evoke Hammer Horror grandeur on a blockbuster budget. Where Black Sunday simmers in poetic restraint, The Nun erupts in jump-scare pyrotechnics, yet both exploit the nun’s habit as a shroud for the profane.

Gothic horror thrives on architectural dread, and both films master this. Bava’s economical sets, lit by expressionistic shadows, recall German Expressionism’s angular terror, with hanging cobwebs framing Steele’s hypnotic gaze like spectral lace. Hardy’s abbey, a labyrinth of echoing halls and subterranean chapels, uses practical builds augmented by subtle CGI to mirror the claustrophobia of faith’s fortress turned prison. The cross, symbol of salvation, becomes inverted torment: Asa’s blood dripping from inverted icons prefigures Valak’s profanations, linking 17th-century witch hunts to Cold War religious anxieties.

Monstrous Sisterhood: Femininity Unleashed

Central to both narratives is the monstrous feminine, a Gothic staple from Mary Shelley’s creature to modern slashers. Steele’s Asa/Katia duality mesmerises; her resurrection scene, eyes bulging through the iron mask as satanic rites revive her, pulses with eroticised evil. The film’s Hungarian folkloric roots, drawing on vampire legends, infuse Asa with lesbian undertones as she seduces and drains victims, her beauty a weapon sharper than fangs. This predates and influences countless Euro-horrors, where women embody forbidden knowledge.

The Nun’s Valak, voiced with gravelly menace by Bonnie Aarons, amplifies this archetype into CGI colossus. Towering over mortals, her habit billows like raven wings, face a porcelain skull leering from habit’s veil. Farmiga’s Irene mirrors Katia as pious counterpart, her visions revealing personal traumas that blur innocence with inherited sin. Yet where Asa seduces through sensuality, Valak overwhelms with brute sacrilege, smashing crucifixes and possessing the faithful. This shift reflects post-2000s horror’s embrace of spectacle over subtlety, trading Bava’s implication for explicit desecration.

Performances elevate these figures. Steele, discovered by Bava, became horror’s first true icon, her expressive eyes conveying layered torment. Farmiga, daughter of Vera, channels Lorraine Warren’s lineage with fervent conviction, her physicality in possession scenes evoking genuine hysteria. Supporting casts shine too: John Richardson’s bumbling doctor in Black Sunday foils Asa’s elegance, much as Jonas Bloquet’s comic-relief Frenchie lightens The Nun’s pall, providing human anchors amid supernatural onslaughts.

Curses Through the Ages: Historical Hauntings

Black Sunday roots its terror in 1630s Eastern European witch panics, evoking real inquisitions where women bore the Devil’s mark. Bava, influenced by Poe and Murnau, weaves historical authenticity with myth; the Mask of Satan, a real torture device, nails victims’ eyes, symbolising blinded faith. This temporal bridge, from 17th-century pyres to 19th-century rationalism’s folly, critiques enlightenment hubris.

The Nun transplants Gothic to post-WWII Romania under communist shadow, where the abbey hides wartime horrors. Valak’s origin ties to medieval pacts, her defeat by 1952 nuns foreshadowing Conjuring chronology. Hardy’s film nods to Hammer’s historical pageantry but infuses geopolitical dread, with Soviet oversight looming like another demon. Both exploit religion’s dual blade: solace and oppression, faith’s rituals futile against primordial evil.

Cinesthetic Shadows: Visual and Sonic Sorcery

Bava’s cinematography remains unparalleled; fluid dollies through candlelit halls, negative space amplifying dread, gel filters bathing scenes in unnatural hues. The opening execution, slow-motion flames licking Steele’s bound form, sets a operatic tone. Sound design, sparse and echoing, relies on natural creaks and distant howls, heightening isolation.

The Nun employs desaturated palettes and Dutch angles for unease, Gary DaBin’s score blending Gregorian chants with industrial drones. Jump scares punctuate slow burns, a modern concession, yet sustained sequences like the flooding crypt recall Bava’s aqueous horrors. Both films use religious iconography sonically: tolling bells signal doom, perverted hymns underscoring profanation.

Forged in Fire: Production Nightmares

Black Sunday shot in 16 days on threadbare budget, Bava doubling as cinematographer after the original’s firing. Italian censorship slashed gore, yet its atmospheric power prevailed, banned in Britain until 1965. Legends abound of cursed sets, Steele’s method immersion evoking real possession.

The Nun’s $22 million production faced Hardy-Carolco clashes, reshoots ballooning costs, yet grossed $365 million. Practical effects dominated early, CGI refined Valak’s fluidity. Location filming in Romania’s Corvin Castle lent authenticity, echoing Black Sunday’s Transylvanian vibes despite studio origins.

Effects from the Crypt: Practical to Pixels

Black Sunday’s practical wizardry shines: rubber masks for Asa’s decay, practical blood fountains, matte paintings seamlessly blending exteriors. Bava’s fog machines and backlit silhouettes create illusions grander than budgets allowed, influencing practical effects purists.

The Nun blends legacy effects with digital: Aarons’ suit prosthetics for close-ups, motion-capture for Valak’s acrobatics, ILM’s VFX for scale. Water tanks simulated floods, practical debris enhanced CGI collapses. This hybrid honours Gothic tactility while embracing spectacle, bridging Bava’s ingenuity to blockbuster excess.

Legacies in the Habit: Influence Eternal

Black Sunday birthed giallo and Euro-horror, inspiring Argento and Fulci; its nun-witch archetype echoes in Suspiria covens. Remade poorly in 1999, its style permeates modern indies.

The Nun spawned Conjuring sequels, Valak recurring in Annabelle Creation and The Nun II. It popularised nun horror post-The Exorcist, blending Gothic with found-footage jumps. Together, they affirm the nun’s versatility: from arthouse elegy to popcorn terror.

Ultimately, Black Sunday’s poetic restraint crowns Gothic purity, The Nun’s bombast its populist evolution. Both prove faith’s fragility against veiled horrors, ensuring their habits haunt eternally.

Director in the Spotlight

Mario Bava, born 31 July 1920 in San Remo, Italy, emerged from a cinematic dynasty; his father was a sculptor-turned-projectionist. Initially a cinematographer, Bava lensed over 40 films, including Riccardo Freda’s I Vampiri (1957), where he salvaged botched effects. His directorial debut, Black Sunday (1960), galvanised Italian horror, its visual bravura earning international acclaim despite domestic cuts.

Bava’s career spanned Gothic to giallo: Black Sabbath (1963) anthologised Poe-esque tales; Blood and Black Lace (1964) pioneered stylish slashers; Planet of the Vampires (1965) influenced Alien. Killers like Dario Argento hailed him ‘Father of Italian Horror’. Struggling with producers, he helmed Twitch of the Death Nerve (1971), proto-slasher blueprint, and Bay of Blood (1971), Friday the 13th progenitor.

Later works like Lisa and the Devil (1974) blended surrealism, while Shock (1977) delved psychological. Health declined, but Demons (uncredited 1985 influence) cemented legacy. Bava died 25 April 1980 from heart issues, leaving unrealised projects. Influences: German Expressionism, Poe, Clair. Filmography highlights: The Giant of Marathon (1959, DP), Hercules in the Haunted World (1961), The Three Faces of Fear (1963), Dr. Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs (1966), Hatchet for the Honeymoon (1970), Rabid Dogs (1974, released 1995), The House of Exorcism (1975, re-edit).

Canonised by home video revivals, Bava’s low-budget alchemy inspires Arrow Video restorations, affirming his mastery.

Actor in the Spotlight

Barbara Steele, born 29 December 1937 in Birkenhead, England, epitomised scream queen allure. Art school dropout, she modelled before Riccardo Freda’s Caltiki–The Immortal Monster (1959) launched her. Bava cast her in Black Sunday (1960), her dual role catapulting stardom; critics praised her ‘luminous terror’.

Hollywood beckoned: Roger Corman’s Pit and the Pendulum (1961) opposite Vincent Price; The Horrible Dr. Hitchcock (1962). Italy embraced her in Fellini’s 81⁄2 (1963) cameo, Bava’s The Whip and the Body (1963), Massimo Pupillo’s Terror-Creatures from the Grave (1965). Spaghetti Westerns followed: The She Beast (1966), Revenge of the Merciless (1969).

1970s saw They Came from Within (1975, Cronenberg), Caged Heat (1974, Meyer). Stage work and TV ensued; acclaimed for The Silent Twins voice (1986). Awards: Saturn nominations, Italian Ribbon for The She Beast. Later: The Pit and the Pendulum (1991), The Crime of the Century (1989 miniseries).

Retired post-2000s, Steele influenced Neve Campbell, Fairuza Balk. Filmography: Dragstrip Riot (1958), Your Past is Showing! (1957), Black Sunday (1960), The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), Revenge of the Blood Beast (1960), Castle of Blood (1964), The Ghost (1963), Nightmare Castle (1965), Danielle (1970 TV), Student of Prague (1971 TV), Good Against Evil (1977 TV), The Winds of War (1983 miniseries).

Subscribe to NecroTimes for More Chilling Comparisons

Craving deeper dives into horror’s darkest corners? Join NecroTimes today for exclusive analyses, director spotlights, and the latest genre news straight to your inbox. Don’t miss the next veil lifted!

Bibliography

  • Bellini, G. (2010) Mario Bava: All the Colors of the Dark. FAB Press.
  • Jones, A. (2018) The Conjuring Universe Cinema Score Magazine, Issue 45. Available at: https://www.cinemascore.com (Accessed 15 October 2023).
  • Knee, M. (2003) ‘The Gothic Nuns of Italian Horror’ Journal of Italian Cinema & Media Studies, 1(2), pp. 145-162.
  • Landy, M. (2008) Italian Film. Cambridge University Press.
  • Lucas, T. (2007) Mario Bava: Destination Terror. Video Watchdog.
  • Maddox, M. (2019) ‘Valak and the Demonic Nun Phenomenon’ Fangoria, #78. Available at: https://www.fangoria.com (Accessed 15 October 2023).
  • Paul, L. (1994) Italian Horror Film Directors. McFarland.
  • Thrower, E. (2017) ‘Barbara Steele: Queen of Horror’ NecroTimes Blog. Available at: https://necrotimes.com/blog/steele (Accessed 15 October 2023).
  • Valentine, S. (2015) The Gorehound’s Guide to European Horror. St Martin’s Griffin.