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“Their Pagan God has Given his Command: 7 Nights, 7 Victims, 7 Human Hearts!”

With Night of the Seagulls, Amando de Ossorio closes the chapter on his eerie Tomb of the Blind Dead series—four films that occupy a strange, fog-drenched intersection between folk horror, Gothic surrealism, and undead mythology. While not the strongest entry in the franchise, this final installment remains a worthwhile watch for fans of Ossorio’s unique atmospheric touch and the continuing saga of his most iconic creations: the Blind Dead.

The plot once again centres around the cursed Templar Knights—now firmly transformed into deathless, eyeless revenants who rise nightly to fulfill blood rituals in the service of a mysterious sea-bound deity. This time, the setting shifts to a remote seaside village, where a young doctor and his wife arrive only to be swept into a grim local tradition: seven nights of ritual human sacrifice to appease the Templars and their dark god.

Stylistically, Ossorio leans fully into mood and menace. The windswept cliffs, mournful seagulls, and dilapidated coastal dwellings ooze decay. The Blind Dead themselves, with their skeletal forms and snail-paced advance, remain chilling in concept if not always in execution. They don’t just stalk—they haunt. And yet, despite the atmosphere, the film suffers from a slow pace and underdeveloped characters. The townspeople are largely silent archetypes, and the protagonists feel more like bystanders than participants in the horror.

Compared to the raw occultism of Tombs of the Blind Dead (1972) or the surreal train setting of Horror of the Zombies (1974), Night of the Seagulls is more subdued. The violence is ritualistic, not frantic; the horror more mythic than visceral. Ossorio seems less interested in terror and more in cementing the lore behind the Templars—giving them a vaguely Lovecraftian spin with the sea god and sacrificial rites.

As a finale, it doesn’t go out with a bang—but it doesn’t betray the spirit of the series either. Ossorio’s vision remains intact: sombre, strange, and stubbornly slow-burning. For devotees of Euro-horror and Spanish cult cinema, Night of the Seagulls is a worthy, if flawed, farewell to one of horror’s most original undead legacies.

A moody, atmospheric end to the Blind Dead saga, best appreciated by those already invested in Ossorio’s unique brand of occult horror.

  • Saul Muerte