A shamelessly artless horror movie whose senseless story - a girl inherits a spooky, seedy hotel which just happens to have one of the Seven Doors of Hell in its cellar - is merely an excuse for a poorly connected series of sadistic tableaux of torture and gore.
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The thriller is populated by the usual dimwits who stumble into horrific situations and don't have the good sense to leave, and it tries to pass off some of the sorriest excuses for zombies ever seen.
There's more than enough gruesomeness to keep hard-core horror fans screaming, but others should stay a million miles away - or 2 million, if spiders make you squirm. [12 Jun 1998, p.B2]
Even by Argento standards, Fulci’s film is nonsensical to the point of distraction.
The Beyond's first half-hour or so is extremely entertaining, alternating between genuinely frightening, gory shocks and hilariously awkward, atonal acting. After a while, however, it becomes as dull as its repetitive Italian prog-rock soundtrack, neither good nor bad enough to hold your attention for long.
Classic Italian splatter directed by Lucio Fulci, reviled and adored in equal proportions by Euro-horror fans.
Does it make any sense? Nope. Does this detract from the film? Not at all. It's classic Italian Grand Guignol at its most disturbing; a car crash, autopsy, and disembowelment all wrapped up in a nice, soggy package.
You know the drill: Seven gates of hell. The walking dead. Blood and spurting eyeballs. Strictly for horror mavens hungry for kitsch. [03 Jul 1998]
It's the kind of movie that alternates stupefyingly lame dialogue with special effects scenes in which quicklime dissolves corpses and tarantulas eat lips and eyeballs.