Black Exorcism

• The original Spanish title is Vudu sangriento (Bloody Voodoo). The lurid US name Voodoo Black Exorcist was bolted on by distributors to ride two crazes at once: the possession boom after The Exorcist (1973) and the Blaxploitation cycle that filled marquees with 'Black' titles. The movie is neither an exorcism picture nor Blaxploitation, no possession or exorcism appears anywhere in it. It's a mummy-revenge film with a few voodoo trappings.
• The mummy is played by Aldo Sambrell, the swarthy Spanish heavy from Sergio Leone's Dollars trilogy. He scowled through A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly as a bandit, and his own IMDb bio flags this film as a rare lead role for him after a career of villains and gunslingers. His character is named Gatanebo.
• Director Manuel Cano shot on real Caribbean ground, with location work in Haiti, Jamaica, and Santo Domingo, and a cruise liner was hired for the shipboard scenes.
• The curse mechanics are specific: a thousand years earlier in 'ancient Nigeria' the priest was punished for an affair by having a curare-dipped pin driven through his neck while his lover Kenya was beheaded, then he was entombed. The revived Gatanebo repays it by decapitating his victims one by one, sometimes after jabbing them with a curare-laced ring.
• Reviewers flag the technical sloppiness as part of the charm. During one murder scene the camera crew and director are plainly visible in a mirror (a goof Psychotronic singled out), and the English dubbing drifts well off the actors' lips.
• Cano's other genre credit is Swamp of the Ravens (1974), a mad-scientist reanimation film made with much of the same crew that critics routinely rate above this one.

The film smuggles a doomed-love tragedy inside a cheap exploitation shell. Gatanebo isn't a mindless monster, he's a man executed for an affair who wakes to find his beloved seemingly reincarnated. Every beheading echoes Kenya's own execution, making the killer's revenge a compulsive replay of his oldest wound rather than random slaughter.

The mummy-reverting gimmick reads as a body fighting its own resurrection. Gatanebo keeps snapping back to the prune-faced corpse mid-scene, suggesting the man and the curse are at war inside one form, and that the romance he's chasing is the only thing briefly holding the human shape together.

The retitling is the real horror here, in a meta sense. A straightforward Spanish mummy picture got dragged across two unrelated American trends, voodoo-priest-as-Black-villain and Exorcist-style possession, which says more about 1974 distribution opportunism than anything in the script, and superfans treat the gap between marketing and movie as the actual cult draw.

A thousand years after a voodoo priest takes a curare-tipped pin through the throat for loving the wrong woman, his coffin gets hauled onto a Caribbean luxury liner by a dabbling scientist. A careless incantation wakes him. Now Gatanebo stalks the decks, lopping off heads and flickering between leathery mummy and living man, fixated on a passenger he's decided is his beheaded lover Kenya reborn. Shipboard romance, ancient revenge, and a body count collide in the rocking corridors while the crew tries to figure out what's gutting the manifest.