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.
Despite saving the woman, Monica Ranieri (Eva Renzi), the atrocious act of violence is etched in his mind, a near constant nightmarish flash that won’t leave him alone. Unable to leave the country – as his passport has been taken by Inspector Morosini (Enrico Maria Salerno), due to the fact that he is a witness to the attack, the detective also suggests that this is likely part of a slew of serial killings.
Returning to his loving girlfriend Julia (Suzy Kendall), it is quite clear that he is not going to fall into the same rut he was in before, instead turning his creative mind towards solving the elusive case. Investigating the suspected first murders, there is little to go on. . . the genesis killing was that of a lady working at an antique shop, the last person to see her an unknown patron who purchased a primitive, macabre piece of art from the window. . . the only lead from the second death, a stuttering pimp in jail – who was not a witness to the occurrence, though he suggests looking for an affluent male.
Picking up very little along the way (and what is collected very well may be misleading), the only thing the police can glean (and pass along to Sam) is that the killer is left handed and likely middle aged. Though seemingly no closer, the murderer begins to take an interest in the amateur sleuth. . . suggesting that he is on the right track. Will Sam be able to unmask the killer, putting an end to the brutal psychopathic killings, or will he and his girlfriend fall prey to the cool, sharp point of metal?
The first film by Argento, it is loosely based upon Frederic Brown’s novel “The Screaming Mimi”, which was also made into a feature in 1958 (starring Anita Ekberg). Demonstrating a veteran’s skill (at building suspense) at a very young age, countless scenes are shot with style, creativity, and an impressive dynamism – this first picture led to the director being coined ‘The Italian Hitchcock’ – the film also has a Freudian, dream-like quality (drawing some comparisons to Spellbound). Bodies, both dead and alive, are placed in the camera’s line of sight, warning the viewer that something foul is afoot – unbeknownst to our protagonist, while a triangular stairwell scene is thrilling murder poetry in motion. I must admit that I am a sucker for a good staircase in film (be it the fight scene in last year’s Atomic Blonde, or the steps found as you enter the Bates’ home in Psycho), and this one finds a woman scaling the unusually shaped flight, the lights ominously going off as she makes her way towards her abode. With only one way up and down, it feels claustrophobic, and as if we are almost blind. It not only draws impressive parallels to the Master of Suspense, but also the Master of the Macabre – Brian De Palma, as this scene clearly influences a moment from 1980’s Dressed to Kill. Another sequence was achieved by dropping a camera six stories to the ground – breaking it in the process (accidentally), it was worth it in order to get the right shot; while another extended scene is filmed from high up on a rooftop – a sequence with amazing scope.
Intriguingly, producer and distributor Goffredo Lombardo (of Titanus) wanted to fire Argento early on – not liking the look of the dailies. Argento stood up for himself, unwilling to be replaced (and, although furious, Lombardo backed down). . . though, when the final product was finally screened for Lombardo, he was no less angry – still unwilling to accept Argento’s vision. Leaving in a huff, Argento’s father followed (Salvatore was a well known film producer and executive), and saw the man cloister himself away in his office (with some of his colleagues). Observing the man’s secretary shaking while eating, he asked her what was the matter – her reply, the film has shaken me. Taking her into his office, Lombardo listened to her, but was still not one hundred percent convinced. . . yet, after a slow start at the box office, it took off, with Lombardo then calling Argento – extremely pleased, saying, let’s make another one straight away (oh, the power of money to sway opinions).
Though not the first giallo (Mario Bava and others had started the trend in the sixties), The Bird With The Crystal Plumage is credited with giving the unique genre its boom. Spawning numerous gialli, both similar and different, it also led to an inordinate amount of creative, animal-centric titles. . . including Argento’s animal trilogy – this one, followed by his next two films, 1971’s The Cat o’ Nine Tails and 1972’s Four Flies on Grey Velvet. Influential to say the least, its combination of big box office returns, eye opening suspense, touches of violence and nudity, a tense and fascinating score (by Ennio Morricone – improvising along with his musicians while watching the film. . .never has sighing felt more sinister), its unmistakable colour palette (combined with Vittorio Storaro’s dynamic cinematography), and unique take on memory (and whether it can be trusted), makes it difficult to ignore, a motion picture that still holds up to this day. With a superb ending, you’ll fall for this classic giallo – and, like an intoxicating piece of art, it is well worth remembering.
Can be watched in Italian with English subtitles or in dubbed English