‘What Could Have Been’ is a continuing look into the reels of film history, analysing movies that could have been something special, but due to problems with script, production, budgetary, or any other type of issue, did not reach its full potential.
If you’ve stumbled into the world of producer Dick Randall, then congratulations on being a part of a most bizarre level of film watching that most regular cinephiles will never reach. A fly by night producer (with a number of aliases – for example, Claudio Rainis in Italy) who knew how to talk the talk, he found money in the least expected places. . . in fact, it has long been rumoured that the reason he did not return to the United States was because he borrowed from the wrong people (some mobsters) when trying to get a couple Broadway plays up and running.
A master (and I use that term lightly) of exploiting the most recent trend (think sexploitation, mondo, giallo, karate, even James Bond), this globetrotter jumped from one place to the next, spending some time in Italy, only to then make his way to the Philippines for another low budget project.
With examples ranging from his exploitative documentary The Wild, Wild World of Jayne Mansfield to the Weng Weng starring Bond spoof For Y’ur Height Only, another perfect example of his work is the gialli inspired The French Sex Murders (1972).
Directed by Ferdinando Merighi, and co-written by the above mentioned stupor-producer, this giallo will show several other iconic skills of the film maker. . . namely, a knack for recruiting aging talent, and a cameo from the man himself. Though not a gem of the Italian genre, you can’t say this guy didn’t continuously come up with outrageously wild and often titillating ideas.
After its flash forward teaser, the film opens in a ‘massage parlor’, which is, in reality, a brothel, one Madame Colette (Anita Ekberg) is the owner in charge of this high class Parisian establishment. A place that is frequented by a number of pseudonym using clients (including two mask-wearers that would fit nicely into an Eyes Wide Shut party), there is even a live-in author, Randall (Renato Romano), who calls this place home – his next book will be on the ins and outs of the business (if you catch my drift).
Running her girls, Madame Colette is annoyed to see regular Antoine (Peter Martell) trot into the business. . . as he has become obsessed with one of the young ladies, Francine (Barbara Bouchet – Don’t Torture a Duckling; Black Belly of the Tarantula). Offering to pay more, she grudgingly agrees, only for the masseuse to be found dead soon after. . . and so it begins.
With everyone, including Inspector Fontaine (Humphrey Bogart lookalike Robert Sacchi – in full trench coat and fedora. . . this the first time he would go full Bogie) thinking it’s an open and shut case (bad storytelling will have the Inspector claiming the opposite not too long after), Antoine swears it wasn’t him. . . like that will do him any good. Sentenced to death, he places a curse on all of those who claimed he was the guilty culprit, then escapes for good measure, only to get killed (in an unexpected way) while being chased by the cops (things move pretty fast in a Dick Randall movie).
Making everyone a bit twitchy, you better keep an eye on Judge Teschi (William Alexander) – who sentenced Antoine; Professor Wildemar (Howard Vernon – Le silence de la mer) – who inspected the man’s body after his death; his daughter, Eleonora (Evelyne Kraft), who is secretly dating Roger Delluc (Franco Borelli) behind her father’s back; Antoine’s singing ex, Marianne (Rosalba Neri), who is now dating (and working for) an unsavory nightclub owner, Pepi (Rolf Eden); a sleazy, fez wearing frequenter of the massage parlor, Mr. Hassan (Dick Randall); there is even a maid, Doris (Ada Pometti), and her lover (Alessandro Perrella); and then throw in every other person mentioned before. . . in other words, everyone is either a suspect, or a possible victim.
A cheap giallo knock-off missing some of the slick visuals and sharp narrative dialogue found in many other releases around the same time (though it does have a lot of zooms), despite its piecemeal editing and ridiculous dialogue, The French Sex Murders still has its moments. . . lurid deaths, wild twists (though most are predictable), moments of sexuality, a too impressive cast for its material, and a ‘how did they get to film at the Eiffel Tower’ moment. So, I think I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether you want to step into this unusual world that Randall himself has created. . . though I will say this, with how structured and controlled the film industry currently is, we could probably use a maverick like this to shake things up a bit.
The movie can be watched in Italian with English subtitles, or in dubbed English