If jailed for false pretenses, when you finally get out of prison, what would you do? The premise of the engaging film noir thriller Cry Danger (1951), made by former child star and first time director Robert Parrish (it is also said Dick Powell was quite involved in the film’s directing), one thing’s for sure, it’s about as hard boiled as you can get. Dick Powell (Murder, My Sweet) plays understandably rough around the edges Rocky Mulloy – a man who was falsely fingered in an armed robbery case that led to a murder.
Ah, vacation time. Nothing like getting that call out of the blue – excited to be invited on a golf trip, to be asked to go down south (avoiding the winter blues), or to fly over to Europe. . . alas, this is not the case in today’s feature. Our protagonist, negotiator/arbitrator Mason Skiles (Jon Hamm), is strong-armed into taking a flight over to Beirut (a place he has vowed never to return to again – and also the title of the film) to give a so-called “academic lecture” – as we all know, this supposed job is simply cover for something decidedly more shady. Scribed by Bourne franchise writer Tony Gilroy (his previous effort to this, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story) and directed by Brad Anderson (Transsiberian), the pair actually open the film in Beirut (1972) ten years prior to when our story takes place, a glimpse into the man’s past in the city. Flash forward a decade and Skiles is a shell of the man he once was – a disjointed alcoholic living a fugue state instead of a life.
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.
Camping: a dream to some. . . a nightmare to others! For all of the beautiful vistas, calm lakes, and age-old trees that bring you closer to nature, the nights are the pitchest of blacks, hiding not only mosquitos the size of vampire bats (that hover around looking for a scrumptious meal), but also a throng of wild animals that lurk in the shadows – only their glowing eyes seen in the ominous dark. . . and soon, once you’ve meandered off the beaten track, those towering hardwoods all start to look the same. No one can hear you scream when you’re in the middle of nowhere. . . okay, perhaps laying it on a bit thick, but this is the basic premise of the high reaching, low budget 2014 Canadian horror tinged dramatic thriller, Backcountry. Written and directed by first time filmmaker Adam MacDonald, he transports us to a provincial park in northern Ontario during the last days of autumn. The rush is over, people have returned to the big city, but young couple Alex (Jeff Roop) and Jenn (Missy Peregrym) are making the trek to the picturesque natural locale before it closes for the winter. The stomping grounds of Alex for many a summer, it is not high on the to-do list for urban-loving Jenn – a cell-phone addicted lawyer. So confident is Alex that he tells the Park Ranger (Nicholas Campbell) that he does not need a map. . . the employee also informs the camper that the lake he was planning on bringing his gal to is off limits (as kids have been sneaking up there and partying – destroying the pristine, unpolluted loch. . . expect a grand in fines if caught – the horrors of government rules and regulations).
For those of you out there that are James Bond fans like I am, you will likely get a bit excited about this one. As I was doing some research on gialli a few weeks back, I stumbled upon 1971's The Black Belly of the Tarantula, directed by Paolo Cavara. Featuring an intriguing cast for Bond afficionados, Giancarlo Giannini (Rene Mathis in Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace), Claudine Auger (Domino in Thunderball), Barbara Bouchet (Moneypenny in the quirky 1967 version of Casino Royale) and Barbara Bach (Maj. Anya Amasova/Agent XXX in The Spy Who Loved Me) all star in this thriller, a unique cast ranging from the movies of Connery and Moore, to Craig and spoof spinoff. Oh, the horror, the horror: a sadistic, psychopathic serial killer, never truly seen (for the longest time, we only view his or her hands – always porting surgical gloves that make them look like plastic), is killing women by way of a most gruesome process. Utilizing acupuncture needles that are tainted with a poison that paralyses the target. . . the victims are poked in the back of the neck – still awake, eyes open wide in fear, they are unable to do anything as the murderer finishes them off in the most macabre ways.
Ah. . . Edgar Allan Poe. The original master of suspense (and macabre), with his maniacal revenge plots, twisted love stories and gothic settings, has arguably done more for horror films than any other writer (though some may argue that H.P. Lovecraft excels). This is evident in nearly every frame of the 1972 giallo Your Vice is a Locked Door and Only I Have the Key (the title alone is a classic, it was also released under other titles as well, including Gently Before She Dies, Eye of the Black Cat, and Excite Me!). Loosely based upon Poe’s “The Black Cat”, director Sergio Martino infuses a style reminiscent of Henri-Georges Clouzot’s horror classic Les Diaboliques, making for a unique narrative. Set in an ancient villa, its decay and rot echoing the crumbling marriage inside (this setting will bring to mind several Poe tales, most notably, “The Fall of the House of Usher”), Oliviero (Luigi Pistilli) is a small town celebrity, an author who has had several novels published (though currently has writer’s block). Revelling in the dwindling free love sixties movement, he frequently invites a group of hippies from a local campsite to party with him. Much to the chagrin of his unhappy (and frequently beaten/threatened) wife Irina (Anita Strindberg), the pair are constantly targeting each other (in very different ways).