Germany has one of the most important and at the same time one of the most curious histories when it comes to horror cinema. Germany was of course one of the birthplaces of the horror film with the early silent German expressionist era laying some the stylistic foundations of the genre with historic titles such as The Student of Prague (Der Student von Prag, 1913), Der Golem (1915), The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) and Nosferatu (1922). Summarizing the history of the German film industry from a genre film perspective in the seminal book Immoral Tales: European Sex & Horror Movies, 1956-1984, authors Pete Tombs and Cathal Tohil go so far as to name Germany the “natural birthplace of the horror film”(1), specifically citing German-French film writer Lotte Eisner’s 1952 study The Haunted Screen: Expressionism in the German Cinema and the Influence of Max Reinhardt. Eisner writes candidly about a “Germanic desire to submit to discipline, together with a certain proneness to Sadism”(2), which Eisner attributes to a “weird pleasure the German’s take in evoking horror”(2). Many of the German expressionist pioneers continued to partake in this “weird pleasure” and work in horror throughout the 1920’s such as Robert Wiene, director of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, who also helmed The Hands of Orlac (1924), F.W. Murnau who prior to Nosferatu had already directed The Haunted Castle (1921) and would later go onto Faust (1926), as well as Paul Leni with the genre anthology Waxworks (1924). Leni would also be one of the first German directors to bring the expressionist style to America with films like The Cat and the Canary (1927) and The Man Who Laughs (1928), the style of the silent German expressionist horrors directly influencing America’s wildly popular 1930’s horror boom and later noir with several top names from the German expressionist era emigrating to America during the rise of the Third Reich.   

Horror films, like most forms of cinema that weren’t propaganda or the adventurous mountaineering-themed “Bergfilme” which Hitler loved (1), essentially vanished following Nazi control of Germany. Two rare genre titles did make it past propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels’ inspection standards fascinatingly enough, a third adaptation of Poe’s The Student of Prague (1935) and Fährmann Maria (Death and the Maiden, 1936). Even following Germany’s post-war split into East and West, any semblance of the country’s horror heritage or dark genre in general remained absent for well over a decade, West Germany not producing a full-on horror film until The Head (Die Nackte und der Satan, 1959) and later Horrors of Spider Island (Ein Toter hing im Netz, 1960). 1959 also saw the release of Der Frosch mit der Maske (The Frog With the Mask), the first “Krimi film” from studio Rialto Film, actually a Danish studio, based on the work of British crime fiction writer Edgar Wallace. So successful was the film with West German audiences that Rialto acquired the rights to more Wallace stories, the studio itself producing a total of 32 Wallace-sourced Krimi’s with later Krimi films based on works by Wallace’s son Bryan Edgar. Although occupying its own unique corner in genre film, itself an amalgamation various pulp and fantastic genres, the Krimi is more than just tangentially connected to horror. A major influence on the Italian Giallo film, the lurid plots and stylistic excess of the Krimi films saw German filmmakers freely indulging in the aforementioned “weird pleasure” Eisner wrote about, Tombs and Tohill describing the series of Wallace adaptations as “one of the few places where the old pre-war German cinematic talent for dark shadows, strange camera angles and gruesome violence was allowed to flourish.”(1).        

The Krimi trend lasted until 1972. West German screens again experienced a lengthy horror genre drought in the years the followed while neighboring continental European countries continued putting their own national stamps on the genre. While the Giallo flourished in Italy, the likes of Paul Naschy and Amando de Ossorio were firing on all cylinders in Spain and the French refined their erotic, fantastique horror, West Germany remained absent during European horror’s 70’s and early 80’s creative peak. Although select titles such as Ulli Lommel’s The Tenderness of Wolves (Die Zärtlichkeit der Wölfe, 1973) and Eckhart Schmidt’s Der Fan (The Fan, 1982) represent some of the finest European genre film from these creative peak years, both were ultimately scattershot exceptions. Germany instead became one of Europe’s 70’s sex film capitals with series such as the massively successful Schoolgirl Report or Schulmädchen-Report films and similarly titled and themed “Report” films like Urlaubsreport (Swedish Love Games, 1971) and Krankenschwestern-Report (Nurse Report, 1971)(1). Similar to the UK, the early 80’s also saw West Germany’s sociopolitical climate drift more conservative, the timing of which perfectly synched with the burgeoning home video revolution. In a scenario not dissimilar to the UK’s Video Nasties, the supposed corrupting influence of horror films on video tape had on the German youth become a chief target for moral crusaders. West Germany even drafted its own list of targeted and banned titles following outrage over imported genre fare such as The Evil Dead (1981), with filmmakers and even viewers facing threats of legal repercussion for putting “the forcefully opened body on celluloid… or admits to watching them”(3).   

Despite the best efforts of the state to shield the German public from even viewing horror films in the privacy of their own homes, the VHS medium proved a powerful difference maker. Similar to the bootleg trading of persecuted Video Nasty titles, an underground developed which ironically would make Germany very noticeable again on the worldwide horror market as the 80’s drew to a close. Although its 1991 sequel suffered a more infamous fate in its home country at the hands of police, Jörg Buttgereit’s Nekromantik (1987) was really the first film to make international horror fans aware of the German underground though word-of-mouth infamy and tales of its banning in every corner of the globe. Though lensed on Super 8 film, it was on bootleg videotape where Nekromantik gained its underground cult following. Much like the American DIY shot-on-video horror filmmakers, a new generation of German horror fans-turned filmmakers utilized the affordability of the format to shoot and have their films circulated. Come the 90’s, German horror was not only back and internationally  recognized, but from the German underground the new, much more extreme subgenre of “German splatter” emerged, enticing adventurous horror viewers with heightened levels of homemade gore effects. While Buttgereit technically became associated with the German shot-on-video directors by proxy, himself remaining dedicated to celluloid, the release of Black Past (1989), the debut video feature from Olaf Ittenbach, a film that like Nekromantik made the German underground a popular destination for tape-traders, solidified Ittenbach’s name as one most synonymous with underground shot-on-video German splatter.      

An entirely self-taught filmmaker, special effects and make-up artist with a particular affinity for Lucio Fulci, Ittenbach citing Fulci’s Zombie (1979) as his introduction to horror as well as Clive Barker (4), the forbidden climate around horror in 80’s Germany fueled Ittenbach who stated “it was the time of the great wave of censorship in Germany, which motivated me to make my own uncut films”(5). Ittenbach began shooting on video in his teens. Early shorts such as as Deadly Night (1986), which Ittenbach shot at the age of 17, were essentially reels featuring Ittenbach and friend André Stryi, a close collaborator on Ittenbach’s subsequent three feature films, showcasing Ittenbach’s gore effects. Though achieved through fairly primitive means, Ittenbach’s effects skills were already quite advanced and effective, Black Past, its final third in particular, gaining immediate cult infamy for not only its rather astonishing level of violence and blood splatter but the warped ingenuity of Ittenbach’s gore as well. Ittenbach’s profile was raised considerably both at home and abroad with his second video feature, the anthology The Burning Moon (1992). Similar to what happened with the police seizure of Buttgereit’s Nekromantik 2 (1991), The Burning Moon was also caught up in legal and censorship cross hairs, the state going a step further than with Nekromantik 2 with Ittenbach not only receiving a 3000 DEM fine (3) but a police raid on his house as well (3), the original copies of The Burning Moon destroyed in the process (3). Yet in true underground fashion bootleg VHS copies of the film traveled everywhere from the US to Japan, The Burning Moon quickly becoming a legendary title in the German hard gore realm, the film’s notorious “Hell” sequence one of the most-discussed among devotees of extreme cinema.  

The extreme violence and blood splatter which has marked Ittenbach’s films has certainly won films like Black Past and The Burning Moon a legion of devoted gore fans. Many have even mentioned Ittenbach’s third feature Premutos: The Fallen Angel (1997) in the same breath as Peter Jackson’s Dead Alive (Braindead, 1992) in the upper echelon of humorous splatter films. Ittenbach’s effects talents have even led to a second career in FX work on bigger budgeted productions, most notably for notorious fellow countryman Uwe Boll. At the same time the gore calling card has led to Ittenbach’s work facing numerous barriers. The biggest in Germany continuing to be censorship, with domestic German releases of Ittenbach’s films being severely cut and, in some instances, potentially illegal to possess (3). The censorship issue however is not unique to Germany. Fully uncut versions of Ittenbach’s films remained difficult to obtain officially even as the video age segued into the digital, with various titles cut according to the censorship boards of any given country. Existing within a niche, splatter films having a limited appeal even among certain horror fans, has often presented another, critical barrier. Mainstream genre critics are quick to dismiss Ittenbach as a one-note filmmaker, a perception which bleeds over into the mindset of more casual horror viewers. The influence of Fulci on Ittenbach is ironic in some ways as it could be said that from the mainstream perspective Ittenbach is the Fulci to Buttgereit’s Dario Argento. While the work of one has been adopted by a cosmopolitan art and even theater crowd, the other remains ghettoized. Even the rare serious consideration of Ittenbach’s work seems backhanded, irritatingly referring to Ittenbach as a “provincial hack”(3), with several other of the unique characteristics found in Ittenbach’s films disregarded by some of Ittenbach’s supporters when focusing solely on the gore. 

Despite the limitations of the VHS format, Ittenbach immediately established himself as the most technically proficient of the German video directors. Shot at Ittenbach’s own home with Ittenbach not only directing and handling effects but taking the lead acting role as well, Black Past is often thought of as a “backyard” production or “home movie”, with so many SOV films associated with a home video aesthetic and cheapness. Circumstances of its production and video format aside, the last impression left by Black Past is that of a ramshackle, fly-by-night work by a “provincial hack”. Rather the various roles adopted by Ittenbach behind the camera during the making of Black Past revealed an incredibly hands-on filmmaker, Black Past featuring moments of genuine macabre atmosphere in conjunction with Ittenbach’s taking levels of horror violence into uncharted territory. Similarly, The Burning Moon may have been lensed on videotape, however a view of the behind-the-scenes footage reveals a legitimate, albeit low-budget, underground production, Ittenbach constructing sets and elaborate effects trickery with a small but close crew of collaborators. Considered by many splatter fans to be Ittenbach’s opus, Premutos: The Fallen Angel was another intensive labor of love five years in the making from first draft to final edit, not exactly the amount of time hacks tend to dedicate to projects. Premutos was in many ways the end of a specific era for Ittenbach. Moving from video to 16mm for Premutos and later to digital video come the new millennium, following Premutos Ittenbach carved out a fairly steady career as an independent genre filmmaker with his IMAS Productions. However, like so many other genre specialists who strike gold early on, the unholy trilogy, so-to-speak, of Black Past, The Burning Moon and Premutos have eclipsed later films where Ittenbach continued to rework his often peculiar approach to splatter in ways far more inventive and conceptual than the majority of “extreme” horror that flooded the 2000’s.  

Many of Ittenbach’s later films also continue with many of the prominent narrative characteristics of Ittenbach’s more famous first three films. Obviously being a pioneer in the “splatter” subgenre, the gore effects have always been the biggest takeaways from Ittenbach’s films. At the same time even just the early films featured enough reoccurring ideas that by Riverplay (2001), an early post-Premutos Ittenbach title, the themes became hard to miss for anyone truly paying attention to more than just the gore scenes. The most blatant of these reoccurring themes being Ittenbach’s fixation on domesticity. More specifically domestic or family units that are fractured in some manner. This is notable in a film as early as Black Past, Ittenbach’s main character of Thommy a somewhat aimless, angsty teenager constantly at odds with his father and two sisters, a mother figure a non-entity from the beginning. The Burning Moon took the broken home unit a step further in its wraparound segments, the two segments of the film introduced as bedtime stories to the unfortunate younger sister of Ittenbach’s character of Peter, a teenage delinquent junkie who comes to physical blows with his father. Although presented in a much lighter fashion, an eccentric family is at the heart of Premutos, the father figure explicitly introduced and referenced to as a stepfather. Ittenbach does however make the dysfunctional marriage of two characters a fairly prominent plot point. Dysfunctional marriage also drives much of Riverplay, Ittenbach surprisingly suppressing most of the big gore until the finale. The film instead takes a more psychological approach to a backwoods slasher, two of the principle characters an endlessly bickering husband and wife on a doomed weekend getaway in the woods encountering a far more emotionally close cannibal lovers.         

Family again became a central focus in Garden of Love (2003). Generically re-titled for its North American DVD release as “The Haunting of Rebecca Verlane”, the film is anything but a generic haunt flick, Ittenbach’s cross subgenre pollination resulting in a splatter film which is also a ghost story, a supernatural revenge film from the vantage of the ghosts, a clan of slaughtered hippies returning to avenge their murders through their lone surviving relative with touches of Giallo and the “drive the woman crazy” device. Dard Divorce (2007), perhaps Ittenbach’s most violent film in terms of sheer visceral brutality, advertises its fractured domestic themes with its title (“Dard” a Persian word for “Pain”) while also highlighting Ittenbach’s storytelling quirks. Buttgereit’s filmography notwithstanding, splatter isn’t exactly a subgenre known for narrative experimentation. Ittenbach however has a tendency for more unorthodox stories such as Dard Divorce, a messy saga of a divorce and custody battle which goes down a variety of crime rabbit holes with the story told in a Rashômon (1950)-esque fashion from a variety of perspectives. What on the surface seems a simple story of escaped convicts and their doctor hostage coming face-to-face with a horde of demons in their cabin in the woods hideout, Chain Reaction (2006), better known as House of Blood, becomes rather surreal when the film becomes trapped in a time loop, the story repeating for the doctor with a different set of supporting inmate players. The familial obsession even carries over into Chain Reaction with the demon clan being a family unit and other bizarre ancestral ties revealed. A later work such as the frustrating Legend of Hell (2011) is also structured around an elaborate time loop idea, the film taking place within an “astral world”, while the earlier anthology Beyond the Limits (2003) similarly travels through various time periods.         

Ittenbach’s anything goes approach to storytelling may also be traced back to Fulci. Known for eschewing traditional narrative logic, Fulci and regular screenwriting collaborator Dardano Sacchetti instead crafted films such as City of the Living Dead (1980) and The Beyond (1981) around their own internal and surreal nightmare logic. The influence of Fulci’s “Gates of Hell” trilogy of the previously mentioned City of the Living Dead, “The Gates of Hell” the preferred title of the film to many, The Beyond and The House by the Cemetery (1981) certainly permeates Ittenbach’s work. The story of Legend of Hell could even be seen as a fusion of elements of both City of the Living Dead and The Beyond, centered on the prevention of the opening of the explicitly named “Gates of Hell” and the “City of the Dead” becoming overrun with walking corpses. Perhaps even stronger than the Fulci influence is that of Clive Barker. Superficially many of Ittenbach’s gore set pieces are clearly nods to Barker’s Hellraiser (1987). However, Ittenbach’s appreciation of Barker crosses over into other areas of Ittenbach’s films, Ittenbach giving some of his more fantastical films like Premutos elaborate, highly involved backstories which seem to emanate from a Barker-esque fantasy world. Central to the story of Premutos is an ancient book, cursed artifacts not unlike the famous Lament Configuration of Hellraiser also regular fixtures of Ittebach’s films such as the “eternal heart” at the heart of Beyond the Limits which connects the two chapters set to grant immortality to whomever possesses it and the ancient scroll of Legend of Hell with the power to open the gates of Hell.  

Ittenbach’s approach to screen violence also appears to have been highly informed by Fulci. Fulci at times of course could be brutally realistic in films such as Contraband (1980) or The New York Ripper (1982) while the pacing and phantasmagorical atmospheres of many of Fulci’s pure horror films often render the violence hypnotic and surrealistic. While Ittenbach strikes a much different tone, the extravagance, over exaggeration and consistent inventiveness of Ittenbach’s gore during moments such as the final third of Black Past, the descent into Hell from The Burning Moon or the show-stealing ghost assault on a SWAT team in Garden of Love often turns the violence semi-abstract, Ittenbach flooding his sets with gallons upon gallons of stage blood. Even Dard Divorce, a film with a plot grounded in reality, goes far and beyond the limits of standard horror bloodletting, a kitchen-set massacre for instance becoming almost comical in its gratuitousness. The comedy partially intentional, Ittenbach’s sardonic side setting said kitchen scene to a jaunty tune with a refrain of “Ooh what a good day”. Premutos is often viewed, and again celebrated, as partially a comedy with its abundance of absurd and gross-out gags, however parenting mockumentary Family Saga (Familienradgeber, 2006) and its 2009 sequel saw Ittenbach move fully into splatter comedy, playing the domestic themes, the film made with Ittenbach’s own family, and over-the-top violence entirely for laughs. Ittenbach addressed the extreme violence in his work stating in a behind-the-scenes look at Premutos “The question most people ask is “Why do you make movies like this? This is not normal. Why does it have to be so bloody? Why do we have to see mutilated corpses?” It’s quite simple. What I like in movies, I like to pass onto other people and therefore I put it into my own work.”(6)

Made over two decades into Ittenbach’s filmmaking career, 2010’s No Reason feels in many ways like a culmination. Both from a visual and gore perspective, and narrative as well, the film being one of Ittenbach’s most ambitious, stylish and accomplished. Where Ittenbach’s previous films began in a more traditional fashion, the diversions and quirks coming after narrative had been established, all the surprise idiosyncrasies of past Ittenbach films come to the surface almost immediately in No Reason. Ittenbach’s most outright abstract and experimental, No Reason technically begins at the “end”, the majority of the film told through flashback, however with perceptions of the fantasy and the material world obscured and coated in viscera. Returning once again to a familial concept for a set-up, the film opens with home video footage of a happy family playing in the snow, the mother and father heaping words of adoration on their young daughter, rattling off a possibly of potential future professions suited to her various talents. The wholesome innocence and hopefulness of the opening is instantly contrasted by the following scene of a crazed nude woman taking a policeman hostage in a warehouse only to shoot herself in a drug fueled hysteria. While the family introduction nor the moment of shocking violence so early on is hardly unique to Ittenbach, the temperament of No Reason is much different from previous Ittenbach titles. Markedly downbeat with a noticeable lack of the absurdist humor Ittenbach often infuses his films with aside from a strange moment involving a mailman and a bathroom, No Reason is also built on a twist on Ittenbach’s family preoccupation that becomes more and more bleak as the elliptical narrative unravels.

Shifting back to family, the mad woman from the post-home video footage scene, Jennifer (Irene Holzfurtner), is then seen beginning her morning in a loving domestic environment with her husband Sebastian and son Nico. The morning begins fairly routine with Sebastian departing for work and Jennifer dropping Nico off at the elderly neighbors while she does some shopping. When Jennifer returns home however, the neighbor along with Nico have mysteriously gone missing. Photos of Sebastian in bed with another resident in the building are soon slipped under the door to Jennifer’s apartment. Sinking into a bath in an attempt to calm herself, Jennifer sinks into a deep sleep only to wake covered in blood and surrounded by dismembered body parts. Greeted by an imposing figure in a tentacled, Cthulhu-like mask, Jennifer is confronted with footage of the masked man brutally murdering Jennifer’s neighbors, including Nico’s babysitter, the man then leading Jennifer through various levels of a tortuous, Hellish underworld. Jennifer’s ordeal certainly finds Ittenbach right at home, No Reason certainly checking all the requisite boxes and more to please the hard gore crowd. In fact once Jennifer’s journey through the masked man’s lair begins the film could be said to play out like an extended version of the Hell sequence in The Burning Moon with one extraordinary gore set piece after another. It’s here where the story and the splatter overlap, Ittenbach giving the gore a conceptual backdrop with the masked man telling Jennifer “You have to understand, that you’re the one, who’s doing all this” from inside her “mental dreamworld” from which she’ll “never return”.

Jennifer’s situation, as the masked man tells her, will become much clearer as she becomes “enlightened”, the ensuing “enlightenment” through a series of unimaginable horrors has led to No Reason being unfavorably compared to Martyrs (2008). However, No Reason is not only structured in its own unique and playful way, Jennifer going through different levels or “layers” as the title cards read, of her nightmarish “mental dreamworld”, but Jennifer’s tribulations are also structured around the concept of color interpretation, the masked man having Jennifer read from a book what is described as “Color-Allegorics” and “the interpretation of colours by values of symbols” along her journey. The color schemes behind each of the levels dictate the look of the film, Ittenbach bathing each scene in its respective color, each level presenting Jennifer with its own set of grisly obstacles. “Layer One: Level Red” in which Jennifer first awakens is again defined by the dismembered remains of Jennifer’s neighbors and the footage of their deaths at the hands of the masked man viewed by Jennifer in unflinchingly brutal detail. Perhaps the most memorable of the levels is the heavily Barker influenced  “Layer Two: Level Green”, the film entering brief hardcore territory (albeit with the use of prosthetics) in “Torture End Time”, a sadomasochistic fetish club. Hellraiser is once again recalled, the various debaucheries of Level Green all ending in death by mutilation or dismemberment, one Torture End Time patron receiving a hook through the face in an obvious Barker nod. Similarly, “Layer Three: Level Blue” finds Jennifer being forced to slice her way through a horde of Cenobite-esque creatures and ghouls, their appearance and the decrepit basement look of the level also harkening back to The Burning Moon.

No Reason is also unique as save for a brief appearance during “Level Blue” from Thomas Reitmair, a longtime Ittenbach collaborator as both an actor as well as composer, the film is absent of Ittenbach’s regular repertory players such as Christopher Kriesa, Daryl Jackson [i] or James Matthews-Pyecka. Despite the acting often being the most criticized aspect of Ittebach’s films, Holzfurtner shoulders the film. At times Holzfurtner’s performance feels as extreme as the gore, with the character of Jennifer essentially being two different extremes. The first of course being the loving wife to Sebastian and mother to Nico who is forced to suffer unendurable horrors for, to quote the title, no reason. An intense role not only psychologically but physically as well, Holzfurtner trekking through a flood of gore, both the psychical and psychological intensity compounded by Holzfurtner performing entirely nude for the majority of the film. Never eroticized, the nudity is entirely a non-issue with Jennifer’s nakedness rarely mentioned in the script. In fact, any crass mentions of sex in the film are from Jennifer herself during “Layer Four: Level Yellow”. Following the revelation of the masked man as Sebastian, the final level of Jennifer’s experience is defined by revelations. The first being of the aforementioned second extreme, or rather the real Jennifer, a destitute drug addict who, after shooting up a cocktail of substances, murders several individuals following a bank robbery. Jennifer’s “family” ultimately revealed to be a drug-induced coma fantasy, the real Sebastian a victim of Jennifer’s bank rampage, the real Nico the child of the real elderly neighbor murdered by Jennifer just prior to the bank robbery. Again the most morose variation on Ittenbach’s family theme, the film comes full circle following a team of medical students [ii] examining Jennifer’s splayed corpse with more home video footage from the family at the beginning, the young Jennifer of course the center of attention.        

Running around 77 minutes in its fully uncut form, No Reason suffered the same fate as every other Ittenbach film when first released on disc in Germany, cut and censored with a considerable portion of an already short length shaved off. The film would even prove somewhat elusive in North America, its initial DVD release going out of circulation and quickly commanding high prices. In early 2021, however, underground cult and extreme horror film label Unearthed Films announced and released a restored and completely uncut version of No Reason. The release was part of a rather surprising trend of Ittenbach titles being revived and receiving special edition home video releases. A trend which Unearthed Films contributed to again with the release of the extended directors cut of Premutos in January of 2022, the films only North American video release prior being a fairly infamous English dub released during the DVD’s infancy. SOV horror specialty label Massacre Video, who were one of the earliest to preserve Ittenbach to disc with their release of Black Past in 2016, have also continued the trend with a release of Dard Divorce announced for 2022. The reemergence of Ittenbach on physical media also coincided with the 2021 crowdfunding announcement for Levizia, Ittenbach’s comeback to feature film directing following a multi-year hiatus. Along with the recent handful of restorations of past works, the announcement of a new film seems the ultimate certification of Ittenbach’s resurgence. 30 years following the controversy and persecution of The Burning Moon, the history remains as vital and important to the story and development of underground German splatter as Ittenbach’s later creative developments in the subgenre such as No Reason, Ittenbach remaining one of the most enterprising and aspiring but also organically talented residents of German underground.

[i]. Jackson does have a credit for No Reason, albeit as an extra.

[ii]. The instructor of the medical students is played by Timothy Balme, star of Peter Jackson’s Dead Alive. Although only in the film for that brief scene at the end, Balme was nevertheless given second billing on cover of the films first DVD release. Balme is also interviewed on the Unearthed disc.

1. Tohill, Cathal. Tombs, Pete. “Immoral Tales: European Sex and Horror Movies, 1956-1984”. St. Martin’s Griffin, 1995.

2. Eisner, Lotte. “The Haunted Screen: Expressionism in the German Cinema and the Influence of Max Reinhardt”. University of California Press. 1952.

3. Werebeck, Kai-Uwe. “The State vs. Buttgereit and Ittenbach: Censorship and Subversion in German No-Budget Horror Film”. Journal of the Fantastic in the Arts, Vol. 27, No. 3. 2016.

4. “BBandBC Podcast – Grindhouse, Exploitation and Cult Cinema. EP55 – A Fallen Angel at the Manchester Morgue”. October 29, 2013.

5. “LEVIZIA – Interview with Olaf Ittenbach”. June 10, 2021.

6. “Making of Olaf Ittenbach’s PREMUTOS (1997) in English”.