The Painter of Agony

The House with Laughing Windows (Pupi Avati, 1976)

Contrary to the belief of some giallo film experts, the genre’s golden era had long passed by the time Dario Argento released his seminal film Deep Red (1975). There was no revival of the giallo genre as his classic debut The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1971) had achieved. Similarly, when the director returned to the gialli after several years with his masterpiece Tenebrae (1982), that also failed to reignite the genre as it had mostly been absorbed across the Atlantic with the slasher film. In your humble host’s opinion, the quality of these films produced between this period was a nadir for the giallo. Gone were the jet-set locations, the glamorous women and the stylish ‘70s fashions. 

These were succeeded by some of the genre’s most notorious and poorly made films. Examples include The Bloodsucker Leads the Dance (1975), The Sister of Ursula (1978) and the infamous Giallo in Venice (1979). They exemplified the sleaze and ineptitude that became the norm. However, there were notable exceptions. The House with the Laughing Windows (1976), directed by the unfortunately named Pupi Avati, is perhaps the greatest standout and one of the best gialli produced since its heyday.

Art restorer Stefano (Lino Capolicchio) is commissioned by Solmi (Bob Tonelli), the diminutive mayor of a provincial village, to repair and complete an unfinished church fresco. The artwork was commissioned by the long-serving parish priest Don Orsi (Eugene Walter) to depict the Martyrdom of St Sebastian. Buono Legnani (Tonino Corazzari), a revered and eccentric local artist would be the person appointed the task of painting the fresco. Unfortunately, the painter had mysteriously passed away before completing it. Mayor Solmi believes the completion and restoration of it will bring much-needed tourism to the area and help boost its economy. Upon seeing the fresco, Stefan becomes instantly obsessed with it and its creator described as "the painter of agony". He begins working immediately,

The village has endured significant hardship since World War II. Its lagoon remains polluted decades after the conflict. Don Orsi’s church was also severely affected. It was converted into a SS barracks during the war and subsequently used as a makeshift morgue. The trauma of war continues to have a profound impact on the community. The village appears to be frozen in time, with few motor vehicles and residents wearing vintage clothing. Above all, they are fearful of the past.

Upon checking into the local hotel, Stefano receives a threatening phone call instructing him to abandon his work on the fresco and leave the village. He dismisses the threat as a prank. He is enjoying the advances of the local schoolteacher, who also happens to be the village bike.  Stefano briefly meets Antonio Mazza (Giulio Pizzirani), an old friend who has also relocated to the village and is assisting with the lagoon’s clean-up. Mazza had recommended Stefano to Mayor Solmi to restore the church fresco. However, he now regrets bringing his friend to the village after learning more about Legnani’s depraved past and horrific inspirations in creating his paintings. With prying eyes and eavesdroppers, it is difficult for Mazza to disclose everything he can to his friend.

After being invited to restaurant owner Poppi’s (Andrea Matteuzzi) house, Stefano sees an entire room’s worth of Legnani’s paintings. This only makes the our protagonist even more fascinated by the insane artist’s life. While there, Mazza calls Stefano urging him to come and see him. He wants to tell Stefano everything. Outside Mazza’s apartment, Stefano witnesses his friend fall to his death. A silhouetted figure can be seen from Mazza’s room.

Stefano’s hotel concierge overhears the latest prank call to him and becomes alarmed. She fabricates a story about needing Stefano’s room for another guest. Fortunately, Don Orsi has arranged accommodation for the young man in a large villa owned by an elderly paraplegic woman who lives alone. It is rumoured she was made an invalid from a venereal disease. Don Orsi’s mouse-eating assistant Lidio (Pietro Brambilla) guides Stefano to the villa. Laura (Pina Borione), the lonely woman, is delighted to have another person in her home. In the attic of the villa, Stefano discovers an old tape recorder. The tape plays Legnani’s insane ramblings which are heard over the sepia-toned opening sequence of the film, where an unnamed man is hung by his arms and brutally stabbed multiple times. 

"The colours, my colours, flow in my veins. They are sweet, my colours, sweet as Autumn, hot as blood, pure as syphilis, and enter into the eyes, infecting all." — Buono Legnani.

Evidently, Stefano seems to have gotten over Mazza’s death (murder?) and seems unfazed from the disturbing tape recording relatively quickly, as he’s already making a late night booty call with the school teacher. To his surprise, the beautiful young brunette woman, who he briefly met on the ferry when he first arrived at the village, opens the front door. Francesca (Francesca Marciano) tells the randy art restorer that the school teacher he came to visit had been transferred, and that she is her replacement, Not sure which is more troubling about Francesca: her inviting a horny stranger into her home in the late hours, or her having a refrigerator filled with snails crawling about in it. She even asks Stefano if he knows how to cook them. The newcomers develop a romantic relationship. Out with the old; in with the new.

This is an appropriate point to conclude the plot of the film without delving into spoilers. While The House with Laughing Windows is half a century old, it’s still an overlooked film; and therefore, a new discovery for many. Its cult status has begun growing in recent years, however. Not only ought it be considered amongst the best gialli ever produced, but it merits the attention of serious cinephiles as an important film in '70s Italian cinema. Therefore, Don Orsi would concur, spoilers would indeed be a cardinal sin.

Pupi Avati’s thriller may adhere to some conventions of the giallo genre, but it also shares significant similarities with the folk-horror sub-genre; specifically Robin Hardy’s British horror classic The Wicker Man (1973). For instance, Capolicchio’s character Stefano falls into a similar spiralling trap as Woodward’s Sergeant Howie as a stranger in a strange land. Both films featuring an isolated community populated by eccentric individuals is another shared characteristic. There is also the daylight horror aspect to both; which are achieved rather masterfully.

The palpable sense of dread in The House with Laughing Windows is undoubtedly its greatest strength. This is achieved through Avati’s increasingly unnerving plot juxtaposed with our protagonists becoming increasingly frightened along the way. The atmosphere becomes electric. Amedeo Tommassi’s haunting piano score further enhances the fear factor; particularly during the third act where events become increasingly sinister. 

The term ‘slow-burn’ may have negative connotations when describing the pacing of films today, but The House with Laughing Windows justifiably earns this description as Avati’s atmosphere wouldn’t have been close to effective if it had breezed through all the chilling plot revelations and genuinely tense scenes for the Ritalin poppin' film fan.

Overall, The House with Laughing Windows has consistently been one of the giallo genre’s most unsung films. This may have been due to the absence of an English dub and accurately translated subtitles in the past. Thankfully, that’s no longer an issue today..

The House with Laughing Windows is now available in 4K UHD (and no longer another wish list item) in the US via Arrow Video and is also available in the same format via Shameless Films in the UK.

Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in giallo, folk-horror and macabre mystery. 

EDIT: Bizzarely, while editing the format of the text, my original review got deleted and blogger auto-saved. Muggins didn't have a back-up. Lesson learned: Never use Blogger as your main format to write anything! Had to rewrite everything I could remember again. 

Giallo Queens

Even though I still have a mountain of film reviews to get to, I’m compelled to chat about some of my favourite female characters from giallo films. As someone who loves both giallo and slashers, the former often leads into the latter, so the giallo queens are often progenators for scream queens and final girls in most cases.

These heroines would largely differ from their counterparts by being maturer in age (although, not considerably), independently spirited and stunningly glamorous. Therefore, they were another captivating element to a fashionable world full of blood, leather gloves and shameless product placement. 

Without further ado, here are five of your host's favourite giallo queens:

Edwige Fenech

You might say it’s cronyism, but Edwige Fenech truly deserves her giallo crown, regardless of being married to Luciano Martino, the producer of many of her best gialli — and many of which were also directed by her brother-in-law, Sergio. She showed she was a versatile actress beyond having to just yell ‘Pronto? Pronto? Pronto?’ into a phone like many of her peers. For instance, drinking dog’s blood at a Satanic cult shindig in All the Colours of the Dark (1972)..

She had the opportunity to go beyond just playing the damsel in distress waiting to be rescued. She was practically a villain flirting with her uncle and getting off with her aunt in Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (1972).

Plus, Fenech’s amazing on-screen chemistry with spaghetti western star and giallo king George Hilton in three classic films made them the Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable of the giallo world; albeit with plenty of nudity and sex.

Fenech also starred in Andrea Biachi’s Strip Nude for Your Killer (1975), which, aside from the unintentional sleaze and endless depravity, ends with the possibility of her being sodomised for the sake of a comedy ending. She also co-starred with Michael York and Donald Pleasence in Ruggero Deodato’s late-game entry Phantom of Death (1988), a film that is often labelled a giallo, although it's liberally applied here.

In Italy, Fenech is mostly known for a bunch of Italian sex comedies; the nation’s very own Barbara Windsor, if you will. For the rest of us, she’s better known for starring in some of the best gialli ever produced, which makes her the numero uno giallo queen.

Recommendations:

Five Dolls for an August Moon (Mario Bava, 1970)

The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh (Sergio Martino, 1971)

All the Colours of the Dark (Sergio Martino, 1972)

The Case of the Bloody Iris (Giuliano Carnimeo, 1972)

Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (Sergio Martino, 1972)

 

Barbara Bouchet

Barbara Bouchet might have been an unofficial Miss Moneypenny and one of Captain Kirk's snogs, but to anyone familiar with the giallo genre, she is unquestionably one of its A-listers.

 

Bouchet shone in Emilio P. Miraglia’s gothic-tinged The Red Queen Kills Seven Times (1972) and Lucio Fulci’s controversially provocative Don’t Torture a Duckling (1972), which really put her on the map as a standout actress in the giallo genre.

 

She also starred in some of the more erotic films in the genre. Silvio Amadio’s Amuck! (1972) is a prime example, where she finds herself in the crosshairs of a couple with questionable tastes, played by the experienced Hollywood actor Farley Granger and the Italian enchantress Rosalba Neri (another entry on this list).

 

Another film that is worth mentioning is her brief appearance as an unfortunate prostitute who meets a gruesome end in the strange film The French Sex Murders. This film features a host of cult Euro-film stars, Anita Ekberg, Howard Vernon and the aforementioned Rosalba Neri to name a few. However, the film’s real highlight is its detective character, played by the American actor Robert Sacchi, who obviously got the part for remarkably looking like Humphrey Bogart. By no means a recommendable film, but an strange oddity for giallo addicts.

 

Barbara Bouchet also ventured into Eurocrime and Poliziotteschi action thrillers, such as the fantastic Italian gangster film Milano Calibro 9 (1972), Ricco: The Mean Machine (1973) and the unbelievably misogynistic Cry of a Prostitute (1974) starring Henry Silva. Her films are the very reason Quentin Tarantino looked like a gormless film nerd when photographed with her.

 

Recommendations:

Black Belly of the Tarantula (Paolo Cavara, 1971)

The Red Queen Kills Seven Times (Emilio Miraglia, 1972) 

Don't Torture a Duckling (Lucio Fulci, 1972) 

Amuck! (Silvio Amadio, 1972)

 

Anita Strindberg

Swedish actress Anita Strindberg's legacy in giallo is as well defined as her cheekbones.

 

With her captivating looks and outstanding acting, she quickly moved from supporting roles such as Lucio Fulci’s A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin (1971) to the main protagonist in Sergio Martino’s jet-setting thriller, The Case of the Scorpion’s Tail (1971).

 

Her most remarkable role, and perhaps the best in the entire giallo genre, is that of the wife of a decadent author who is both physically and mentally mistreated by him in Sergio Martino’s, Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (1972). In a perfect world, Liza Minelli should have given her Best Actress Oscar for Cabaret (1972) to Anita Strindberg for her outstanding performance in this Edgar Allan Poe-inspired giallo.

 

Strindberg would also play a grieving mother alongside one-time Bond actor George Lazenby in Aldo Lado's whodunnit Who Saw Her Die? (1972). A dark film where the killer is dressed like a Monty Python granny. This giallo ought to interest fans of '70s British horror as it contains some uncanny similarities to Nicholas Roeg's classic Don't Look Now (1974), despite preceding it by a couple of years.

Yet to see The Two Faces of Fear (1972) and believe me, I've tried tracking it down countless times. Therefore I can't recommend it. I have seen the Haitian giallo Tropic of Cancer (1972), but it's largely forgettable, other than Anita Strindberg being in it. The same goes for Puzzle (1974), where she has a very minor role.

 

Murder Obsession (1981) was one of her final films before she from acting. It's sometimes described as a giallo, but it's more of a supernatural slasher, in my opinion. Regardless of genre, it's an underrated film and deserves more love from Italian horror fans.

 

Recommendations:

A Lizard in a Woman's Skin (Lucio Fulci, 1971)

The Case of the Scorpion's Tail (Sergio Martino, 1971)

Who Saw Her Die? (Aldo Lado, 1972)

Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (Sergio Martino, 1972)

 

Suzy Kendall 

Suzy Kendall might not have starred in as many gialli as the rest of her peers, but quality over quantity is more than applicable for the former missus of one half of Derek and Clive. Her films are legitimately amongst the best in the genre.

 

The British actress, best known for To Sir, with Love (1967) and Up the Junction (1968), would get a taste for the psychological thriller in the obscure home invasion film The Penthouse (1967). A foray of thrillers would follow, most of which were giallo, but the bizarre thriller Assault (1971) is worth a mention on account of it being produced by Eric Rogers of the Carry On film series.

 

The actress made her official debut in giallo with Dario Argento's classic The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970). The terror laced scene where she is trapped in her apartment whilst the killer whittles her front door with their knife, is one of the seminal set pieces in the film and one of the obvious examples as to why it helped reinvigorate the genre.

Kendall would also appear in Sergio Martino's Torso (1973), a giallo which can just as easily be labelled a slasher, thanks to containing many elements with it. Above all, it's the final act of the film, where Kendall's character finds herself trapped in a country home while the killer chops up her classmates oblivious of her presence, that truly takes it into slasher territory. 

 

Umberto Lenzi's problematically named giallo Spasmo (1974) would mark her final role in the genre. Perhaps not one of the director's best known films, but it's one of his better entries in the genre. Well worth checking out as it features one of giallo's most recognisable faces in Italian genre cinema, Ivan Rassimov. It also boasts a great score by Ennio Morricone, too.

 

Decades after retiring from film, Kendall would make a return as Toby Jones's mum in Peter Strictland's fantastically surreal Berberian Sound Studio (2012); a hypnotic ode to Italian film set in the '70s.

 

Recommendations:

The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (Dario Argento, 1970)

Torso (Sergio Martino, 1973)

Spasmo (Umberto Lenzi, 1974)

 

Nieves Navarro (AKA Susan Scott)

Spanish actress Nieves Navarro began making real moves in spaghetti westerns in the 1960s. Her glamorous appeal was a match made in heaven when she transitioned into a giallo queen at the star of the 1970s.

 

The actress would play memorable supporting roles in some major gialli, but it wasn't until the Death... films, directed by her husband Luciano Ercoli, that she would get to play more leading roles. 

Navarro's fiery, Latin temperament made the characters she played stand out from the more timid and fragile female protagonists one would find in gialli. This virtue would also lend to being a weakness at times, as she would avoid major red flags and be completely unaware of any potential dangers until it eventually comes knocking at her door.

 

After the classic era of the giallo had passed, Navarro would appear in much smuttier genre offerings, notably some of the Black Emanuelle films starring the cult actress Laura Gemser. As much as I'm a fan of Joe D'Amato's Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals (1975), it's hard to argue with these films not being a low point for any actor, sadly.

 

Recommendations:

The Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion (Luciano Ercoli, 1970)

Death Walks On High Heels (Luciano Ercoli, 1971)

All the Colors of the Dark (Sergio Martino, 1972)

Death Walks at Midnight (Luciano Ercoli, 1972)

So Sweet, So Dead (Roberto Bianchi Montero, 1972) 

Death Carries a Cane (Maurizio Pradeux, 1973)

 

Marina Malfatti

Even though Marina Malfatti never had a lead role in a giallo, she has played many supporting roles where she is a genuine scene-stealer and far more memorable than the main female character. Therefore, Malfatti is a sound choice to complete this list.

A big part of what makes her interesting is her posh persona, no matter the character she plays. It is often enhanced by an upper class English accent for the international dub version.

However, what really makes her stand out is the outrageous outfits she wears. Her signature look is usually revealing her midriff and showing off a lot of cleavage, whether she is in sparkly tops or sheer gowns with plunging necklines that go all the way down to her navel.

 

My favourite Malfatti role is her playing Edwige Fenech's bourgeios, British neighbour in Sergio Martino's classic All the Colours of the Dark (1972). She's perhaps at her most stylish as she's dressed similarly to Ingrid Pitt's iconic blue gown from Countess Dracula (1971), replete with a choker. Her piercing stares and graceful poise reinforce the untrustworthy aristocrat vibe exuding from her roles. As evident when I recently watched for the first time The Blood-Stained Lawn (1973); which is not a giallo, in my opinion, given it features a blood-sucking robot.

 

Recommendations:

The Night Evelyn Came Out of the Grave (Emilio Miraglia, 1971)

All the Colors of the Dark (Sergio Martino, 1972)

The Red Queen Kills Seven Times (Emilio Miraglia, 1972) 

Seven Blood-Stained Orchids (Umberto Lenzi, 1972)

 

I had planned to include ten giallo queens in this list, but since I started working on it during the summer heatwave (which I admit was on and off), it might have taken another five months to wrap it up. Still, it’s a great reason to create another list down the road when I have more time to dedicate and focus on this subject matter.

Servizio Fanatico: Part 2

Not only wasn't Michael Mohan's Immaculate (2024) the only film to feature a pregnant nun this year, but it also wasn't alone in recycling Bruno Nicolai's score from The Red Queen Kill's Seven Times (1972), either. Netflix's It's What's Inside (2024) is the latest film to reuse three tracks from the classic giallo soundtrack; including the most recognisable of the lot, Servizio Fotografico.

Regarding It's What's Inside, it's essentially Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022) with body swapping. Did I hate it like that insufferable turd? Well, no. It's somewhat bearable, surprisingly. However, it's still plagued with some horrible character writing. Having to endure late twentysomethings talk and behave so idiotically and selfishly, it's a total surprise they even made it into adulthood. Only in the movies, right?

Note to other Hollywood film makers: if you're gonna reuse Bruno Nicolai's The Red Queen Kills Seven Times score, can it be Terzo Delitto, my fave deep cut off the soundtrack? It's the theme that plays when Leonora (Dolores Calò) gets locked in a van after turning snitch during a photoshoot. Witnessing her being whisked away from the hustle and bustle of Würzburg City before her murder in the countryside is a scene that I find comical, but more and more disturbing whenever I rewatch it. Largely because no one in that whole city can hear her cries for help.

The Red Queen Kills Seven Times (Leonora's Death)

Emilio Miraglia, 1972 

LAX

MaXXXine (Ti West, 2024)

In recent years, Mia Goth has turned into a Hollywood star. A status that her characters Maxine Miller/Minx and Pearl Douglas have craved. Together with director Ti West, the first two instalments of their film trilogy X (2022) and Pearl (2022) has netted them critical praise and fans in the franchise. Therefore, the third entry, MaXXXine (2024) was always going to be eagerly anticipated, especially when it's set in Hollywood during the mid-eighties.

MaXXXine never relents in its mission of showcasing the overly familar eighties aesthetic which has been pastiched for decades now. Cue an abundance of neon lights, video filtering and the retro sound of cold synths and sleazy saxophones. It's a remarkable achievement in MaXXXine; a nostalgic trip to a world defined by films from a given era rather than adhere historical authenticity. Both The House of the Devil (2009) and the previously mentioned X were testament to West's expertise in recreating past decades, thus, it's hardly a surprise MaXXXine's cinematic world is easily its strongest asset.

Ironically, West's devotion to visual aesthetics, film references and various homages have come at the expense of a focused plot, character developments and a worthy final act. Worst of all, the levels of suspense and terror, which were part and parcel in the very films which inspire MaXXXine, are largely absent. These egrious errors result in the weakest entry in the X trilogy.

As talented as Mia Goth is, Maxine has regressed to a two dimensional character. Aspiring to transition from a porn star to a Hollywood starlet is not only her ultimate goal, but her entire personality. Her ruthlessness is largely on the back burner and only appears in a few scenes; one of which involves an unfortunate Buster Keaton impersonator. For the most part, she's either being harassed and stalked by Kevin Bacon's slimy P.I, or taking career advice from Elizabeth Debicki’s snooty horror director. Meanwhile, Michelle Monaghan and Bobby Cannavale have little to work with as cops on the hunt for L.A's serial killer, the Night Stalker, other than light relief. Similarly, Giancarlo Esposito as Maxine's agent hardly offers little in the film with the exception of look amusing wearing a wig on his head. The rest of the cast are even less fortunate. Maxine's close circle merely exist for the bodycount. Throw in the obligatory Satanic Panic hysteria from the era, and you have loads of elements that come across as scatterbrained. They all lead to an unsatisfying conclusion, unfortunately. The big reveal was no different to the nonsensically, eye-rolling ones featured in the Scream sequels.

Still, fans of genre films, especially lovers of the slasher and the giallo, might get more mileage out of the film than normies. Notable setpieces include a beautifully filmed Argento style kill à la Tenebrae (1982) inside a seedy video store. Tyler Bates supplies a fantastic score for it; which sounds like a mashup of vintage Goblin and Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key's soundtracks. Fans of eighties Friedkin and De Palma won't go hungry, either. Biggest surprise of all is the severed head on a bed homage from the video nasty Nightmare in a Damaged Brain (1981). There are of course less obscure references like the parallels between Pearl and Norma Bates; made all the more obvious with the former peering out of the iconic house adjacent to the notorious Bates Motel. Maxxxine is loaded with many movie references and easter eggs for easily pleased cinephiles. All distractions from the film's aforementioned flaws.

To conclude, MaXXXine is an enjoyable, but significant step down from its predecessors; plenty to appease horror fans and eighties nostalgia heads, but lacking in offering anything truly meaningful. Which is a genuine shame, since Ti West and Mia Goth were a winning combination over the last couple of years.

Nasty Habit

Killer Nun (Trailer)

Giulio Berruti, 1979

Swedish bombshell Anita Ekberg frolicking in the Trevi fountain in Federico Fellini's La Dolce Vita (1960) might be peak cinema to snobbish cinephiles, but she'll be remembered as a drug addicted, dentures-stomping, horny nun in Giulio Berruti's nunsploitation/giallo and one time video nasty, Killer Nun (1979) by film degenerates like myself. At the risk of offending both sides of the kino taste spectrum, I can't say I'm a fan of either of those films. However, one particular track featured on Killer Nun by composer Alessandro Alessandroni has been a fave of mine for many years; which at least makes it somewhat redeemable.

Alessandro Alessandroni - Suor Omicidi, Seq. 4

 Killer Nun/The Strangler of Vienna/Lady Frankenstein compilation, 1999

 

Something about Suor Omicidi, Seq. 4's jangly acoustic guitar strumming away while the sounds of an ominous choral build in the background, concluding with a manic church organ, really does it for me. Little wonder it’s amongst my favourite giallo tracks of all time.

Killer Nun's soundtrack didn't get a vinyl release until twenty years later. The tracks finally appeared in an Alessandroni compilation containing two other scores of his: Lady Frankenstein (1971) and The Strangler of Vienna (1971). The latter, I have yet to see.

Lady Frankenstein (Trailer)

Mel Welles & Aureliano Luppi, 1971

 

From Orson Welles to Mel Welles; you know Joseph Cotten's career hit an even greater decline than Anita Ekberg's when he went from Citizen Kane (1941), Shadow of a Doubt (1943) and The Third Man (1949) to Italian horror Lady Frankenstein; a far cry from his classic earlier body of work. Far more entertaining than Killer Nun and La Dolce Vita, though.

It's All Ancient Greek to Me

Kolobos (Daniel Liatowitsch & David Todd Ocvirk, 1999)

Being a Gen X'er, the most memorable highlights from 1999 were the following: a total solar eclipse; the first airing of The Sopranos series: the beginning of Eminem's world domination; being more gutted with Star Wars: The Phantom Menace than breaking up with my girlfriend; and the world on tenterhooks over the Millennium Bug. The meta-horror Kolobos was also released that same year, and became a Blockbuster Video staple apparently, gaining a minor cult following ever since. Late pass! I only discovered it this month.

Beginning with a bloody woman stumbling in front of a car in the pooring rain, muttering the word "Kolobos". She awakens in a hospital bed with her face completely bandaged. The majority of the film from this point onwards is told via a series of lengthy flashbacks.

The premise of Kolobos is five young strangers are paid to live in winter retreat (looking like a Poundshop Overlook Hotel) together for a social experiment film. While habiting there, they'll be filmed via cameras installed throughout the premises, à la Big Brother.  Taking its cue from the MTV reality series The Real World, we're presented with entertaining demo reel introductions from our collective. These individuals include: Tina, the extrovert fast food employee who urinates in impatient customers' drinks; Tom, a stand-up comic; Erica, a horror actress from  The Slaughterhouse Factor series of films; Gary, the sensitive, pseudo intellectual; and finally, Kira, the artistic introvert, possessing all the final girl descriptive qualities you would come to expect.

Since Kolobos is a horror film, you don't need to make an educated guess about what's going to occur..

Kira has absolutely no business leaving the safety of her care facility, or as Tina the Drink Spiker calls it "the whacky shack", (which happens to be run by the legendary scream queen and fitness goddess Linnea Quigley in an all too brief cameo) as she's prone to slashing herself and having psychotic visions of faceless people and a disfigured maniac. Have you guessed who the villain is yet?

Kolobos suffers from many significant flaws which would turn away many serious film heads. With the exception of Amy Weber, who plays Kira, the performances are quite poor. Kolobos's co-directors were fresh graduates out of film school and their inexperience is very apparent. The writing is very muddled and convoluted at times. Much of what occurs on screen exists for superficial reasons rather than offer any real coherent sense. From a bonus feature on the film's blu-ray, the film makers admitted to naming their film after the Ancient Greek word for mutilate Kolobos, because it sounded cool.The antagonist has way too much plot armour which logistically makes little sense. Even with a huge suspension of disbelief, the writing has a significantly detrimental affect for the finale. Also, LOL @ the R&B snippet following on from the Lidl brand Suspiria theme during the end credits.

What makes Kolobos blogworthy however, is how unique it ostensibly is for its era: one, it preceeds other early reality TV based horror films I recall by a few years, e.g My Little Eye (2002) and Halloween: Resurrection (2002); two, the house is booby trapped with laser trip wire, metal shutters, acid plumbing, and robotic machines throwing circular razor saws, predating the Saw (2004 - ∞) franchise; and three, it's heavily inspired by both classic giallo and Italian horror way before the renaissance for them became noticeable a decade later.

You don't need to wait very long for the obvious influences either as Kolobos's main theme by William Kidd sounds like a complete rip-off of Goblin's theme from Suspiria (1977). Other than the Argento lighting, my favourite of the homages is the eye gouge scene, which takes obvious inspiration from Lucio Fulci's notoriously graphic eye gouge scene from Zombie Flesh Eaters (1979).

None of the main cast and crew seemed to have had significant career after Kolobos, with the exception of Amy Weber. She briefly went on to become a WWE diva back in the day, and also tried her hand as an budding popstar, covering Girls Aloud's Something Kinda Ooh! and dueting with Sean Kingston. I was going to add, on another alternate Earth, where Kolobos was a major hit, Weber might have never bothered with the wrestling and the singing and been on the same career path as Neve Campbell, but even she kind of faded out, too.

Kolobos is way better than some of the absolute trashfests I adore, but it's also way too burdened by major flaws to enter any kind of serious objective discussion of hailing it a good film; even by many horror film enthusiasts. Having watched this film a couple of times this month, I do understand the reason for its mini cult-following. It's got a lot of heart and ingenuity for what's essentially a low budget slasher and I admire that about it. Kolobos comes across as a freak of nature, as it's an obscure and forgotten, gory forerunner to the types of horror films that would become so prominent in the noughties. Film critics dubbing it as Saw meets Big Brother are kind of spot on about it, however. It's also one of the few films I've watched lately that's lingered with me after its end credits and that's a surprising feat in itself considering the amount of films I watch on the regular.

Bongos and Black Lace

Blood and Black Lace (Opening Credits)

Mario Bava, 1964

 

Like many Italian directors, Mario Bava dabbled in a multitude of different film genres throughout his career. His most celebrated works often fell under the horror umbrella, such as the gothic classics Black Sunday (1960) and Black Sabbath (1963). He also defined another genre; the giallo.

Blood and Black Lace (1964) might not have been Bava's first attempt at the giallo, but it laid a lot of the blueprint we would expect from the genre: from the graphic (and sometimes erotocised) deaths of beautiful, young women; to the opulent and lavish settings and locations; and the often imitated masked trenchcoat killer - Bava would turn the genre into an inspirational slayground to up and comers like Dario Argento, Sergio Martino, and Lucio Fulci.

You need only witness the opening credits from Blood and Black Lace to be convinced he was a master at his craft. Set in an elite fashion house, the sequence features its statuesque looking cast, situated with colourful flora (bouquets or wreaths) and eerie looking mannequins (which both reflects their superficiality and the forshadowing of their lifeless state), setting the tone for Bava's sardonically macabre tale. This is all complimented with his typical visual splendour; while composer Carlo Rustichelli's downtempo, cabaret-style score has an air of potential doom about it, quelling any potential doubts.

The rest of the film masterfully lives up to those opening credits, to the point where I consider it amongst the greatest in the genre.

Blood and Black Lace (Nicole's Murder Scene)

Mario Bava, 1964 

Profondo Rosa

Maniac Driver (Kurando Mitsutake, 2020)

Whenenver a modern film cites itself as a "giallo" or "neo-giallo", more often than not, it's anything but one. These loose descriptive terms tend to apply to a colourful visual style which was prominent during the heyday of Italian thrillers. The structures and conventions of the giallo are often missing when throwback films started becoming the vogue from the late 2000s. Therefore, it's no surprise whenever cinephiles with a deep misconception of what the genre is spew mistaken precoceptions of what the genre consists of. Hence, it comes as no surprise when a film parody like The Editor (2014) mocks the giallo and reveals little comprehension of it, or awful click-bait lists by the BFI on great neo-gialli which comes across as rather ignorant.

Kurando Mitsutake's genre mash-up Maniac Driver (2020), which touts itself as a giallo, is a valiant stab at it, event though it's prominently inspired by both William Lustig's Maniac (1980) and Martin Scorsese's Taxi Driver (1976). Those films are anything but gialli. Originally intended as a pinku-eiga film, Mitsutake opted for Argento-esque eye candy to go with the allure of Japanese AV actresses getting they're kit off. The end result is a film which consists of lurid, softcore sex scenes and technicolour Italian splatter. Personally, this pushes the right buttons for film degenerate like myself. That's due to it capturing the salacious exploitation and mean spiritism which was evident in various gialli and slashers from yesteryear. Factors which at the very least, bring a certain degree of autheticity when compared to the revisionist and venomless, retro throwbacks we've experienced in the 21st century. The inspiration just doesn't stop there, you can spot the obvious references to Lucio Fulci's gut vomiting scene from City of the Living Dead (1980), along with obvious homages to Taxi Driver.

Perhaps the biggest fault the film suffers from are the undercooked sub-plots. I wouldn't have known about Iori Kagawa, the film's heroine, having a boyfriend betraying her to some weird cult until Mitsutake mentioned it on the film's audio commentary. Having said that, I did enjoy the character study of the film lead are a bunch misanthropic, philosophical ramblings narrated by Tomoki Kimura, the film's lead, which smacks of nietzschean style humdingers like this:

"We like to be tied down and stripped of our freedom. Maybe this is the reason why we gravitate toward populists and fascists. Then self-destruct. It’s our fate." - Maniac Driver

The biggest highlight from Maniac Driver is its soundtrack. Moody synths which harken back to Claudio Simonetti and John Carpenter's eighties compositions, are another atmospheric layer to its retro appeal. Adding further to the mix is some melodic Japanese metal courtesy of Aiming High, which compliments some of the more intense scenes featured in the film. Hardly a novelty considering that's exactly what we got with Argento's Phenomena (1985), but it's a feature which  feels far better suited today on a low budget film rather than appearing at odds in one of Argento's celebrated efforts during his prime. Wish I copped the limited edition of the film when it was intially available as it came with a bonus CD soundtrack.

There's also the ending which would be a huge spoiler if discussed in real detail, but I found it reminscent of what the great giallo script writer Ernesto Gastaldi might have come up with. Then again, the film's title is a mash-up of Maniac and Taxi Driver, and therefore the ending should make perfect sense. It might realistically be a pinku-eiga film, first and foremost, but it does deliver the goods in what you might expect from an old school, giallo style slasher. LOL at the killer's laugh sounding like a kazoo, though. A worthwhile effort for a film made with little money and shot in just four and half days. Two thumbs up from me.

Sunglasses at Night

Dark Glasses (Dario Argento, 2022)

Had the naive hope that whenever a Dario Argento film would make its eventual debut on this blog, then it would have been one of his classics; such as Deep Red (1975), Suspiria (1978) or Tenebrae (1982). However, considering Argento is now in his eighties and hasn't made a film since the thoroughly detested Dracula 3D (2012), his latest film, Dark Glasses would be worth the effort just to check up on him; the sort of thing you would do whenever you're worried about an elderly neighbour.

Kicking off with a solar eclipse darkening the city of Rome, the film's high class escort heroine, Diana (Illenia Pastorelli), experiences some not so subtle forshadowing by being temporary blinded by the celestial phenomenon. After a graphic, quintessentially giallo style kill of another sex worker, the film reverts back to Diana as she flees from a physically abusive client and into a car chase with the said serial killer. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The chase results in an impressive car crash scene, where the driver of another vehicle is left dead and his wife in a coma. The couple's son, Chin (Xinyu Zhang), sat in the back seat, winds up remarkably unscathed. Diana is left blind by the ordeal. It's from here where the film focuses on the adjustments Diana is forced to make in her life, and the guilt she feels over Chin's tragic predicament. Meanwhile, the killer is still out there and has his eyes on her.

Adapted from a script which was languishing on the back burner for at least twenty years, Argento's film feels surprisingly underdeveloped. Reliant on recycling elements from his past works for some essential substance; the most notable attempt is the rehash of Franco and Lori from The Cat O' Nine Tails (1971). However, that's an already established relationship and here it's the formation of one, and so there's an uncomfortable awkwardness while trying to find common ground. One of which results in an unintentionally comedic scene where a guilt ridden Diana visits an orphanage and gives Chin a bootleg game console to cheer him up. How wrong is that? Another obvious throwback is the dog scene from Suspiria; which lacks any real intensity here and only exists just to up the gore factor by a notch.

Worth pointing out that despite some visual flourishes here and there, harkening back to Argento's glory days, Dark Glasses is a very low budget film. It has the whiff of TV crime drama all over it. The kind that's on a Sunday night, where you're already grabbing your coat and leaving the house. Hardly a bad thing for fresh-faced film makers cutting their teeth, but Argento is a veteran and his old masterpieces have been cinematic in scope. Arguably, budgets got much lesser, hence the transition from film to television for many of Argento's peers. Ultimately, the reason why Italian horror and giallo fizzled out during the nineties and what little has been made since then resembles cheap looking tat like Argento's The Card Player (2003)

Despite its faults, there are genuine positives I like about Dark Glasses: the film has a breezy fast pace to it, which feels refreshing after all the unnecessarily long movies released nowadays; Diana is an unexpectably likeable protagonist; Asia Argento delivers a fine performance for her supporting role as Diana's carer. There's also the fact that the killer's face is revealed relatively early in the film; subverting most people's, including my own, preconceptions of the rules in gialli. Arnaud Rebotini's synthwave soundtrack is most of the time atmospherically effective whenever it doesn't stray into Euro-Techno territory. Also, the typically Argento WTF? setpieces like the water snakes scene is very well executed and one for any Argento highlights reel.

All in all, it's a decent time waster. Objectively, an average film that I would have probably forgotten about already if it wasn't for the fact that Argento has been churning out shite for decades, and this is begrudgingly his best offering since The Stendhal Syndrome (1996). Fellow octogenarian film maker, Paul Verhoeven, gave us the spectacular Benedetta (2021) last year, and Dark Glasses is nowhere near the technical nor artistic level of proficiency. Still, I would rather Argento make a back to basics giallo like this in 2022 than sully his name even further by attaching it to pretentious shite like She Will, or acting in some depressing Gaspar Noé film about Alzheimer's Disease this year.

Dark Glasses (Trailer)

(Dario Argento, 2022)

 

Dada Debaser's G.O.A.T Giallo Cuts

Goblin - Profondo Rosso

Profondo Rosso, aka Deep Red soundtrack (Italian TV appearance)

 

Pour yourself a glass of J&B and celebrate, 'cause Dada Debaser managed to compile a list of the best giallo tracks out there. With the knowledge of certain composers appearing more than once or twice, it just wouldn't feel right passing up what I consider the best tracks just for the sake of including other themes that aren't as good.

Bunch of classic Stelvio Cipriani themes mistakenly get thrown in whenever I see giallo soundtrack compiliations, like La Polizia Sta A Guardare and La Polizia Ha Le Mani Legate. They really belong under the politzioteschi umbrella or something altogether different, like Femina Ridens shouldn't be considered either of them.

Also, if you're wondering why nothing from Suspiria is on the list, then shame on you!

 

 Carlo Rustichelli - Main Theme (Blood and Black Lace, 1964)

 Ennio Morricone - L'uccello dalle Piume di Cristallo (The Bird With the Crystal Plumage, 1970)

Sante Maria Romitelli - Hatchet Shake (Hatchet for the Honeymoon, 1970)

Pierro Umilliani - Cinque Bambole Versione Coro (5 Dolls for an August Moon, 1970)

Stelvio Cipriani - Due Amanti (A Bay of Blood, 1971)

Stelvio Cipriani - Sensualmente (Death Walks on High Heels, 1971)

Ennio Morricone - Come Un Madrigale (Four Flies on Grey Velvet, 1971)

Ennio Morricone - Notte di Giorno (A Lizard in a Woman's Skin, 1971)

Bruno Nicolai - Seq. 1 (The Case of the Scorpion's Tail, 1971)

Nora Orlandi - Dies Irae (The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh, 1971)

Fiorenzo Carpi - Marialé (A White Dress for Marialé)

Stelvio Cipriani - La Morte Accarezza a Mezzanotte (Valentina) (Death Walks at Midnight, 1972)

Giorgio Gaslini - Cio' Che E' Scritto Nel Vento (So Sweet, So Dead, 1972) 

Ennio Morricone - Canto Della Campana Stonata (Who Saw Her Die? 1972)

Bruno Nicolai - Servizio Fotographico (The Red Queen Kills Seven Times, 1972)

Bruno Nicolai - Pursuited / Jennifer's Recall (The Case of the Bloody Iris, 1972)

Bruno Nicolai - Sabba Sequence 2 (All the Colours of the Dark, 1972)

Bruno Nicolai - Deadly Race (Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key, 1972)

Riz Ortolani - Main Titles (Seven Blood-Stained Orchids, 1972)

Giafranco Plenzio - Voce D'Amore (The Cat in Heat, 1972)

Gianfranco Reverberi - End Montage (Delirium, 1972)

Teo Usuelli - Piacere Sequence, M36 (Amuck, 1972)

Guido & Maurizio De Angelis - Il Primo Omicidio (Torso, 1973)

Bert Pisano - Greta (Version 2) (Death Smiles on a Murderer, 1973)

Ennio Morricone - Bambole (Spasmo, 1974)

Goblin - Profondo Rosso (Deep Red, 1975)

Goblin - Death Dies (Deep Red, 1975)

Bruno Nicolai - Nell'assolata Alhambra (Eyeball, 1975)

Bert Pisano - Main Title (Strip Nude for Your Killer, 1975)

Riz Ortolani - Il Corpo di Linda (The Pyjama Girl Case, 1977)

Trans Europa Express - Seq. 1 (Watch Me When I Kill, 1977)

Franco Bixio, Fabio Frizzi & Vince Tempera - Sette Note in Nero (The Pyschic, 1977)

Alessandro Alessandroni - Seq. 4 (Killer Nun, 1979)

Claudio Simonetti, Massimo Morante & Fabio Pignatelle  - Main Titles (Tenebre, 1982)

Francesco De Masi - New York One More Day (The New York Ripper, 1982)

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Big up Bruno Nicolai for not only owning this particular slice of soundtrack heaven, but dominated 1972 with four separate stellar soundtracks. You can bet your life it was a tough time having to pick one tune in the Year by Ear challenge since Blaxploitation also ruled the roost, too.
• Il Maestro, Ennio Morricone will always be my numero uno soundtrack composer, since he's dabbled in so many diverse styles and still been able to deliver some top notch heat in the process.
• Trans Europa Express might very well be a Goblin rip-off, but mio Dio do all the tracks from the Watch Me When I Kill soundtrack slap like Franco Nero.
  

Fear of the Duck

The New York Ripper (Lucio Fulci, 1982)

Got to hand it to director Lucio Fulci in finding a new lease of life in what was certainly looking like the tail end of his film making career. It all stemmed from his success with his ultra gory 1979 horror movie Zombi 2 (AKA Zombie Flesh Eaters), a film shamelessly sold as a sequel to George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead (1978). He also seemed to have inherited Herschell Gordon Lewis' moniker as The Godfather of Gore with his Gates of Hell trilogy: City of the Living Dead (1980), The Beyond (1981) and The House by the Cemetery (1981). Ironically, the troubled production history and negative reception of his next film, with the working title of The Beauty Killer would also happen to be a personal favourite of mine in his entire filmography. Fulci took a leave of absence from his fantastical lovecraftian horror that had marked his renaissance and returned to familiar giallo territory. Being an early eighties giallo, this entry exhibited strong influences of its American offspring - the slasher, which was in its golden era. Being a fan of both genres, the mix of the two is what makes The New York Ripper so damn appealing to me. 

"Welcome to the cheap seats

Welcome to the cheap seats"

The film revolves around a sadistic serial killer with a penchant for slashing and slaying beautiful women all around New York City. Our killer is a cocky fella, since he toys with the NYPD, particularly the man on the case Lt. Fred Williams (Jack Hedley), by phoning and taunting him with his bizarre duck voice. The rest of the cast are mostly recognisable from either other Fulci flicks or some other Italian genre movie: Howard Ross from Mario Bava's stylishly sardonic giallo Five Dolls for an August Moon (1970); Zora Kerova from Umberto Lenzi's utterly depraved, late-game jungle horror Cannibal Ferox (1981); Paolo Malco from The House by the Cemetery (1981); Cosimo Cinieri from Fulci's Fame inspired giallo Murder-Rock (1984); Andrea Occhippinti from Fulci's vaseline lensed fantasy movie, Conquest (1983); Barbara Cupisti from my favourite bork slasher Stagefright (1987); and, last but not least Alexandra Delli Colli from the unforgettably trashy Zombie Holocaust (1980). Ironically, the odd one out is Jack Hedley himself, a veteran British actor dubbed with a weary American accent, who I recognised from an old episode of classic sitcom Only Fools And Horses above any of his other film work.

What's particularly fascinating about this film is there really are no good guys in it - with the exception of an innocent young girl featured towards the end of the film. That's one of the reasons why the film receives such a bad rep by critics and viewers alike, as some kind of terribly misogynistic film. That also happened to be the reason why Fulci regular Catriona MacColl turned down the prominent role of Fay and why it was offered to a complete unknown like Almanta Suska (credited as Keller in the film). The film's antagonist most certainly is a misogynist, but I don't personally see the actual film itself as being one. The rest of the characters appear to be corrupt and amoral people, regardless of gender. In some cases, some of the characters even become secondary villains; intentionally disrupting or delaying the pursuit of the duck-voiced killer, for their own selfish reasons. As for Fulci's motives, much of the people who worked with him, were nothing but incredibly positive about him. He also addressed and mocked this criticism of him with his quasi-greatest hits meta film Cat in the Brain (1990), AKA Nightmare Concert.

"I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle, yeah"

Fulci makes effective use of filming in New York City - especially the sleazy neon lit locations of Times Square and The Deuce in the early eighties; a stark contrast as to how they look now. The city could almost be considered a character in itself in some respect, with how it leaves a negative impression upon all characters in the film. Screenplay writer Dardano Sacchetti revealed film permits were already issued prior to the script being completed, so he effectively wrote a bunch of gruesome graphic murder scenes to both fulfil Fulci's instruction to go in an extreme direction and to fit in with the various locations they had permission to film in. We're even blessed by an internal point of view shot from within a neck being sliced open. That's rather unique, to say the least.

Gorehounds tend to get excited over all the visceral blood on offer in this film, but I'm equally appreciative of how Fulci paves the way for these scenes which range from tense buildups and well executed jump scares. Take the plight of Jane, an aristocratic house wife who gets her sexual kicks by throwing herself in potentially dangerous situations. She masturbates at live sex shows, receives toe-jobs in Puerto Rican bars and pays for sex with a three-fingered "42nd Street gigolo" in some seedy hotel room. The thrill of danger is taken to the next level once she hears a deejay on the radio describe the very same bloke she is with, while she's tied to a bed, is the prime suspect of the Ripper slayings.

"Got on the train we're car from car but not too far I started scopin'"

Dialogue and sound are also notable highlights in The New York Ripper, my favourite line has to be Rosie cycling to catch the Staten Island ferry and hilariously crashing into a stationary V.W. Beetle, with the excuse, "I'm sorry, I was thinking of Boston." WTF? The Ripper's switchblade slashing through air making an intense whooshing sound effect or the ding it makes when hitting a brick wall, is truly sublime. That would have been a characteristic from a Shaw Brothers movie, but not something expected in a giallo.

Frequent soundtrack collaborator Fabio Frizzi was absent on this film, instead the reins were handed over to Francesco De Masi. The result, one of the funkier and uptempo themes you'll ever hear in the majority of gialli out there. One major gripe I have however is the new wave song I love that is featured during Zora Kerova's sex show has never been available on any releases of the film's sountrack. It's also impossible to identify even with the aid of Shazaam, probably because of all the sexual moaning in the background.

The New York Ripper was banned outright in the UK and didn't even make it on the hallowed DPP 39 video nasties list, however that all but cemented its legacy in notoriety, making it a must-see curiosity. Over the years, thanks to the uncut Dutch VHS, it made its round in under-the-counter film fair circuits, until it became more readily available during the DVD era. The film managed to get an official national release, albeit a censored version in 2002. Hardly worth bothering - that's like showing off your vegeterian pet piranha to your mates. It's much easier to find uncut now, thanks to the internet; even blessed with a glorious 4K UHD release by Blue Underground. Probably the one film I've copped more times than the O.G. Star Wars trilogy and Robocop (1987) over the decades. 

In summary, I don't really consider The New York Ripper as Fulci's best film; it's not even his best giallo, but I do consider it his most misjudged movie. That partially explains why I often feel the need to defend it whenever negative criticism is directed towards it. The subject matter itself is both dark and ugly, therefore the film shouldn't be denounced for executing it in such an uncomprimising manner. It stands toe to toe against the slashers of the same era, yet still maintains its giallo principles and that's the biggest reason why I love it so much. A personal favourite, for sure.

The New York Ripper (Trailer)

(Lucio Fulci, 1982)