The Brotherhood of Satan Blu-ray Review

Arrow Video's Blu-ray presentation of "The Brotherhood of Satan" showcases a robust 1080p transfer with an AVC encode, consistent with the high-definition master supplied by Sony Pictures. Retaining its original aspect ratio of 2.35:1, the film exhibits a film-like quality that aligns well with the movie's 1970s origins. The color grading seems slightly warmer compared to previous releases, with natural flesh tones and reduced brown skewing. Detail retention is commendable across various scenes, including mist-laden evening shots and extreme close-ups, providing a comprehensive visual experience without compression issues.

This transfer mirrors the excellent work previously seen in Mill Creek's out-of-print release. The primary distinction lies in Arrow Video’s refined AVC encode, resulting in a subtle yet perceptible enhancement in picture quality. The 1969 production is presented uncut at 92 minutes on a BD-50 disc, allowing each frame's full grain structure and cinematic texture to be captured vividly without digital interference. While a new 4K restoration might offer additional detail extraction, the current transfer remains a solid representation of the source material, standing reliably amongst other reissues of similar era cult films.

The transfer effectively balances authenticity and clarity, providing viewers with an engaging visual journey that honors the film's stylistic choices. Despite minor signs of age-related wear, the overall aesthetic maintains a pleasing fidelity, reflecting the original artistic intentions. Thus, Arrow Video delivers an exceptional Blu-ray presentation that satisfies both artistically and technically, maintaining the integrity of "The Brotherhood of Satan" for cult classic enthusiasts and new viewers alike.

The audio presentation of the Blu-ray release of "The Brotherhood of Satan" features an LPCM Mono track that, while not ambitious in its sound design, provides competent support for the film's elements. The score by Jaime Mendoza-Nava is highlighted as a notable aspect, bringing in effective musical cues such as a spooky music box that enhance the eerie atmosphere. The film’s dialogue is delivered with clarity and precision, ensuring that it remains understandable throughout. This release also includes optional English subtitles, adding to the accessibility for viewers.

Presented in its original monaural sound mix, the 1.0 PCM track maintains a dated yet sufficient fidelity reflective of the film's low-budget origins. The sound quality, while respectable, lacks dynamic range, offering a flat audio experience typical of the film’s era. Despite these limitations, the dialogue remains clean and intelligible. Compared to past releases, this Blu-ray does not signify an audio upgrade but instead continues to provide a consistent listening experience for fans of the movie. Optional English SDH subtitles are available within the 2.35:1 scope presentation, enhancing clarity and comprehension.

Arrow Video's special edition Blu-ray of "The Brotherhood of Satan" presents a compelling blend of engaging extras, enhancing the appreciation for this cult classic. The commentary by Kim Newman and Sean Hogan offers an engaging yet somewhat surface-level exploration of the film within the broader context of satanic cinema, drawing intriguing parallels with post-Rosemary's Baby releases while debating its placement within the 'kids are scary' genre. The visual essay "From the Dark Past," rechristened "Satanic Panic," vividly situates the film within 1970s horror trends, while "The Children of Satan" delivers nostalgic insights from former child actors Jonathan Erickson Eisley and Alyson Moore. The disc is complemented by a collection of promotional content and an image gallery, packaged with Arrow’s signature reversible sleeve and a booklet for early pressings, making it a substantial upgrade from previous releases.

Extras included in this disc:

• Audio Commentary by Kim Newman and Sean Hogan: Entertaining discussion on the film in the context of satanic cinema.
• Satanic Panic: Visual essay placing the film in 1970s horror cinema.
• The Children of Satan: Interviews with former child actors from the film.
• Original Theatrical Trailer
• TV Spot #1
• TV Spot #2
• Radio Spot: Accompanied by key art.
• Image Gallery: 18 still images.

"The Brotherhood of Satan" stands as a notable early entry in the wave of occult horror films that proliferated throughout the 1970s. Drawing thematic elements from classics like "Rosemary’s Baby" and "Village of the Damned," it navigates a narrative filled with sinister undertones, though the execution leans towards indulgent lo-fi charm more than gripping cinema. Noteworthy for its creepy yet sporadically paced storytelling, the film carves a niche as a guilty pleasure for dedicated horror enthusiasts of its era, despite occasionally veering into hokey territory.

Central to the film’s appeal is the ensemble of frequent collaborators—L.Q. Jones, Alvy Moore, and Strother Martin, creating a nuanced familial rapport on-screen. Their shared history in film circles brings authenticity to their roles, particularly Martin’s portrayal of a doctor entrenched in the town’s dark secret. The plot unfolds in a seemingly idyllic Californian town, besieged by mysterious deaths linked to a malevolent satanic coven. The tension escalates quickly as an unsuspecting family finds themselves trapped amidst the escalating doom—a testament to the film's eerie yet understated narrative flair.

This Blu-ray release, albeit framed within a prior double-feature release with “Mr. Sardonicus,” provides an enhanced viewing experience, though it forgoes substantial bonus features. While this limits the nostalgia-driven depth for collectors, it offers an unfiltered glimpse into this occult endeavor. Despite the absence of supplemental material previously included, it's essential to appreciate "The Brotherhood of Satan" as an artifact of its time—mechanically imperfect but atmospherically consistent in its allegiance to vintage horror motifs. The film's lo-fi execution, coupled with intermittent moments of chilling intrigue, positions it as both a time capsule and a forebearer in the genre's expansive canon.

"The Brotherhood of Satan" Blu-ray release by Arrow offers an intriguing dive into the world of satanic horror with a blend of atmospheric tension and classic cinematographic style. This 1971 film, while reflecting some cinematic elements of the previous decade, sustainably delivers a chilling experience that will appeal to cult genre enthusiasts. Despite a somewhat disjointed narrative, it manages to create an eerie ambiance with its unsettling music score and period-specific production design, drawing viewers into its sinister small-town setting.

The Blu-ray's audio and video quality exhibit commendable restoration, ensuring that the film's dark visual aesthetic and haunting soundscape resonate effectively. Picture clarity highlights the film's distinctive color palettes, enhancing the viewing experience. The audio mixing balances dialogue with background scores seamlessly, preserving the movie’s original spooky vibe. Arrow's attention to detail in these technical aspects speaks volumes about their commitment to providing a superior viewing platform for classic horror cinema.

Arrow's inclusion of supplemental features enriches the Blu-ray experience, offering interviews, behind-the-scenes footage, and insightful commentary that sheds light on the film’s production nuances and its place in horror movie history. These extras serve as an excellent resource for aficionados and newcomers alike, providing contextual depth and additional entertainment value.

In conclusion, while "The Brotherhood of Satan" stumbles in narrative cohesion, its ample style and entertaining performances make it a worthwhile watch. Strother Martin's portrayal may lean too folksy for some, yet it contributes to the film's quirky charm. Arrow’s robust technical handling and well-curated supplements make this Blu-ray an appealing acquisition for collectors of genre classics. Its ability to evoke intermittent chills alongside its nostalgic charm cements its status as a b-movie guilty pleasure worth revisiting.