There is no denying that gialli can be a bit out there. These Italian twisty murder mysteries can often combine abstract writing, new age technologies of the 1960s and 70s, and some sex and drugs to make for a trippy experience... but you ain’t seen nothing yet. The most surrealist giallo of them all might just be 1968's Death Laid an Egg, directed by Giulio Questi. Welcome to the most posh chicken farm you’ll ever see. With a scientist (Biagio Pelligra) working nearly around the clock to genetically produce a new form of poultry that will almost instantly fatten with limited bone structure... all while countless chickens are being prepared for market by some new fangled automated technology, wife Anna (Gina Lollobrigida) and her secretary cousin Gabrielle (Ewa Aulin) lounge around their resort-like swimming pool as the former’s hubby, Marco (Jean-Louis Trintignant), gets his kinky rocks off with prostitutes at a hotel as he falls deeper and deeper into a fugue state.
The Academy Award Best Foreign Language Film from 2015 transports us back to 1960's Poland, where a young nun named Ida (also the name of the movie) will soon be taking her vows. Prior to doing so, the inexperienced girl takes a trip to visit the only family she has left living, an aunt named Wanda that she has never met.
As I sat in the dark theatre waiting for the projector to light up the New York State premiere of The Break-In, a Swedish film written and directed by Marcus Ovnell, I had two things running through my mind . . . and both related to my high hopes for the film. The first was that I had attended a panel discussion featuring Ovnell and Nathan Jacobs (writer/director of Killing Poe) on the continuing influence of Edgar Allen Poe on the world of film. The panel provided a nuanced discussion on the two movies (while also making sure to provide no spoilers of the upcoming showing of either film) and being that I am a gargantuan Poe fan, this had me enthused for the premiere. The second was that I have yet to see a poor film or television show come out of Scandinavia over the past several years (whether it is the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo trilogy, Jo Nesbo’s Headhunters or television series such as Wallander and Borgen, to name of few).
The last ten years or so have been an extremely exciting time for horror and thriller films coming out of Spanish speaking countries. Whether a classic from Guillermo del Toro (The Devil’s Backbone, Pan’s Labyrinth), or other greats such as J.A. Bayona’s The Orphanage, Guillem Morales’ Julia’s Eyes or Oriol Paulo’s The Body – to name but a few, these films introduce interesting, unique, original or classic ideas and offer a scary spin on the horror/thriller genre. The Corpse of Anna Fritz adds to this golden age of Spanish language horror thrillers (with a warning that this one pushes the limits more than some of the others).
Most scripts and movies are formed in one complete package, focusing on continuity, flow and character development as well as a definite beginning, middle and end. Yet some films are formed out of something different – a single shot, concept or idea that one then develops a picture around. It does not always work, but when it does, it is cinematic gold. This is the case for the 1955 French crime caper Rififi (originally titled Du Rififi Chez Les Hommes).
One global region that has really gained traction and popularity in the film and television industry recently is Scandinavia. With the huge success of Stieg Larsson’s novels that became the highly popular Millenium film trilogy (Girl With the Dragon Tattoo), we have seen these northern European countries develop complex and entertaining stories that usually fall within the noirish crime genre. Television such as Forbrydelsen (The American TV show The Killing is based on this), Wallander, The Bridge, and Borgen (Stephen King’s favourite show of 2012) have not only found their niche in North America, but have also influenced the television and film industry in North America and Britain as well. One such movie that fits within this genre is Jo Nesbø’s Headhunters (the highest grossing Norwegian film of all-time).
When hearing the name Clouseau, most people automatically think of the bumbling French detective made famous by comedy genius Peter Sellers in the Pink Panther movies, or the uninspired remakes with Steve Martin. Yet I am not referring to that character, instead I am talking about serious film director Henri-Georges Clouzot who directed the horror mystery/thriller Les Diaboliques in 1955.