Using a slight variation on the Master of Suspense’s oh-so-famous name, The Horrible Dr. Hichcock (1962), a horror film out of Italy written and directed by Ernesto Gastaldi, does not hide its love of the great Alfred Hitchcock’s oeuvre. Set in 1885, the titular Dr. Hichcock is a much lauded surgeon for his early mastery of anesthesia... saving lives no one ever thought remotely possible. With a veneer of respectability both in public and at home, his wife, Margaretha (Maria Teresa Vianello), happily entertains the Italian elite with her elegant piano playing in her extravagant estate home. But it is after hours when his hidden vices are released.
A meditative piece on aging, Rúnar Rúnarsson’s 2004 short film The Last Farm, out of Iceland, depicts a situation in which many of us will one day find ourselves in. . . old and decrepit, losing our freedom as we are forced out of our homes for a much more costly imitation of it. Hrafn (Jón Sigurbjörnsson) is an elderly man who has done it his way. Loving life on his little plot of farmland, it is stark yet beautiful, cold yet alive – a frigid ocean property surrounded by hilly mountains and dales, the meeting of land and sea picturesque in all of its challenges. . . unspoiled water and terrain for as far as the eye can see.
Pushing the boundaries of the Italian giallo, Andrea Bianchi’s aptly titled Strip Nude for Your Killer (1975), which features numerous examples of the seductive art of striptease, oodles of nudity, and a violently high body count, is an example of Eurotrash in its most disturbingly alluring state. . . not for the prudish or weak of heart, but fascinating to be sure. A glossy B movie set in the posh world of a Milanese modelling agency, one of the house’s top photographers, Carlo (Nino Castelnuovo), uses his advantageous position to pull stunning women into his bed (I use this term loosely – a steamy sauna works just as well for the cheeky fellow) with promises that they will grace the cover of the world’s most iconic fashion magazines.
A swashbuckling tale of adventure, romance, and intrigue, Fanfan la Tulipe (1952), directed by Christian-Jaque, found its way to me rather serendipitously – a thirty-three dollar Criterion feature tucked in the back of a country thrift shop (price tag – two bucks). Following the titular character, played by Gérard Philipe, as he gets embroiled in one scenario after another, mostly thanks to his fortune having been told, this occurrence helps form his unorthodox path (more on that later). . . I must say that it seems rather funny that I found this one in a place wholly unexpected, especially since the film deals with fate and destiny. Played with a comedic spin, the story is set during the Seven Years’ War, and as the voice over (narrated by Jean Debucourt) puts it: “war, the only recreation of kings which the people could enjoy. . .the regiments of Picardy, Aquitaine and Burgundy fought elegantly, killing each other with grace, disemboweling in style. . . His Majesty’s soldiers found this war so pleasant that they made it last seven years”.
With a title like Seven Blood-Stained Orchids, you’d probably expect a fascinating nature documentary divulging the secrets of a rare flower. . . but of course not, this is part of the continuing series of giallo films reviewed here on Filmizon.com. Written and directed by Umberto Lenzi (and loosely based upon Cornell Woolrich’s novel “Rendezvous in Black”), the filmmaker immerses the viewer into a sordid tale of bloody revenge. A murderer, dressed (and gloved) in black, is dispensing of women in and around the city of Rome.
Picture this – a stunning modernist gallery catches the eye of a passerby late one night, not because of its striking white floors and walls that are the backdrop for noteworthy pieces of art, but rather, because it is the scene of a brutal attack. . . a woman being knifed by a man dressed in a dark raincoat, fedora and gloves, her panicked look and seeping blood in stark contrast to the pale decor. Attempting to rescue her, he gets stuck between two hard-wired glass door panels – this is the hook for the benchmark 1970 giallo The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, written and directed by Dario Argento. The man is Sam Dalmas (Tony Musante), a struggling author from the United States. Coming off of a bender, it is this disturbing sight that enlivens his senses, a chivalric jolt of adrenaline. Though he cannot rescue the girl directly, he is able to sound the alarm, flagging a late-night walker who calls the police.
I love these types of stories. In 2008, Argentinian Andy Muschietti wrote and directed a two minute, thirty five second short film along with his producer sister Barbara, entitled Mamá. Catching the eye of horror maestro Guillermo del Toro, he helped develop an American full length feature (along with producer friend J. Miles Dale – both are now Oscar winners after this past year’s The Shape of Water), which was released in 2013 (a huge success, the flick raked in one hundred, forty six million on just a fifteen million dollar budget). And, just this past year, the siblings ushered in one of the most popular and lucrative horror pictures in some time – It. . . the brother and sister are now pre-producing the much anticipated sequel, slated for a 2019 release. But, it all started with the short. Following two young sisters, Lily (Victoria Harris) and Victoria (Berta Ros), the former wakes the latter from a deep sleep. . . from Lily’s stunned, hapless entrance (never taking her eyes off the open door), we knowing something foul is afoot.