Ah, giallo.
I love giallos. Many a Friday night has been passed
enjoying these films. I can never pronounce it correctly (I believe it is
ji-allo), yet I could talk about it all day. Thing is, many people far more
erudite than I have examined the genre in-depth. So I’m not even going to
attempt to do so. Instead, I’m going to take a quick spin through my six
favorite giallo movies. Most of these are considered classics in the genre;
some aren’t. Art is subjective, especially peculiar art.
First, a quick definition: giallo in this post will refer
only to the cinema format of the genre (there is a literary genre as well from
which giallo cinema initially sprang.) A giallo film, as I define it, is an
Italian thriller, most commonly a crime/mystery film made between the
mid-sixties and early eighties. I do not consider a supernatural horror
film a giallo; many do, especially since many Italian directors of the era
jumped around genres frequently and often made horror films. As such I do not
consider Dario Argento’s Suspiria a giallo, though I absolutely consider it one
of the finest horror films ever made. Deep Red, on the other hand, is a giallo
as it is, for all of its sometimes bizarre trappings, a mystery film at heart.
Other aficionados are more inclusive; your mileage may vary. Also note:
Italians themselves consider the genre much larger than non-Italians as they
often include non-Italian films (such as those by Hitchcock.)
While an occasional giallo still pops up from time-to-time,
the genre essentially died along with the heyday of the Italian studio system
sometime in the early 80s. The peak period of the giallo cycle maps to the
relaxation of censorship and the Italian exploitation explosion, where the
amount of sex and violence permissible onscreen was constantly pushed. I’d say
the prime years were 1969-1973.
Ready to explore? Make sure to know your giallo tropes: convoluted
plots full of red herrings and a twist ending; black-gloved killers; beautiful
women (frequently connected to the fashion industry or high society in general)
the victims; an outsider protagonist; imaginative and gory first-person death
scenes and awesome titles (seriously, Short
Night of the Glass Dolls? Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion? Your Vice
Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key!?! I’m green with envy—I can never
think up a clever title.) Know your key directors: Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci, Sergio
Martino, Paolo Cavara, Umberto Lenzi and the extremely underrated Aldo Lado.
And of course, know the ladies: Edwige Fenech, Barbara Bach, Daria Nicolodi,
Barbara Bouchet, Suzy Kendall, Anita Strindberg, Mimsy Farmer and my secret
favorite, Dagmar Lassander.
I think that’s it. Let’s go.
Profondo Rosso (Deep Red)
Profondo Rosso is the greatest of all giallos. Along with
Suspiria, it is Dario Argento's greatest film. Honestly, I think both of films
are equally great, and general critical consensus over the years appears to agree.
But while Suspiria is a full-on horror film, Profondo Rosso is clearly a giallo,
albeit with plenty of horror imagery.
I first encountered this movie (and Italian cinema as a
whole) in 1992 via a crappy, grainy VHS version entitled The Hatchet Murders.
This version, in addition to reducing Argento's beautiful visuals to smeared
murk, also edited out key scenes, making the plot, which like all giallos is convoluted,
incomprehensible. And yet, I was utterly captivated. There was a genuine sense of
unease that got under my skin and wouldn't let go. Years later, when I finally
saw a clean DVD transfer, I was utterly blown away. I've watched the film half
a dozen times since, and it never fails to inspire me with its artistry. This
is why I watch cinema.
The film opens up at a parapsychology conference in Rome
where a German psychic finds her public demonstration disrupted when she senses
the presence of a psychotic killer in the audience. She points to the audience
and proclaims "You have killed, and you will kill again." She is
correct, as she is shortly thereafter murdered in her apartment. This act is
witnessed from afar by a British pianist named Marc (played by David Hemmings,
famous also for his role in Antonioni's Blow Up). Marc turns into an amateur
detective, teaming up with Gianna, a reporter brilliantly played by Daria
Nicolodi in her greatest role (though Bava's Shock comes close.) More murders
ensue as David tries his damnedest to remember that final piece of the
puzzle...
This is such an amazingly stylish movie. There are sudden
shocks of grotesque, disturbing imagery (god, the first time you see that
creepy doll...if you aren't shaking with fear, you aren't human. And the
walled-in skeleton...but I'll stop there, lest I give too much away.) The blood
is indeed deep red, a color you'd never see in real life that suits this piece
of morbid fantasy perfectly. The acting is the strongest of any Argento film.
And the soundtrack is probably my favorite of all time. Goblin's Suspiria
soundtrack is more revered, but for my money the title theme for Profundo Rosso
is the greatest thing they ever recorded, and the rest of the music is perfect.
Argento didn't invent the giallo, but he is arguably its
greatest practitioner, and Profundo Rosso is his best work (The Bird with the
Crystal Plumage, Four Flies on Grey Velvet and Tenebrae are also worthy, albeit
very different.) This is one of my desert island movies, and any fan of cinema
should view it at least once. Argento broke the mold. There's no way Suspiria
happens without Deep Red first.
Short Night of the Glass Dolls
Directed by Aldo Lado, who also did Night Train Murders
(aka Late Night Trains and a dozen other titles) which is an excellent film that
doesn't fall into the giallo category as I define it, Short Night of the Glass
Dolls is one of my absolute favorites. Definitely the best non-Argento or Fulci
giallo.
Jean Sorel plays Gregory Moore, who, as the film opens,
is apparently dead. The sound of a beating heart begins, alerting the viewer to
the fact that Gregory is not dead, though clearly all around him believe him to
be. Narration begins with Gregory pleading for help, but all to no avail, since
he cannot speak. Nurses declare him DOA and we begin to find out how he ended
up in this mess...
This film has a somber, dreamlike atmosphere. Flashbacks
early on feel abstract but become less so as the plot is revealed, at which
point they become more nightmarish. Not the most stylish of directors, Lado
nevertheless drapes enough weird imagery throughout to make this one of the
more unique giallos. Sorel, who I feel is the best of the male actors who made
multiple giallos, is in fine form, even when lying still on a slab with an
unfortunate 'stache. He kind of reminds me of Face from the A-Team for some
reason.
And the ending! I can't say much about it without giving
a far-too long plot synopsis (the bane of any giallo discussion) but I can say
that it's a riff on Rosemary's Baby that arguably tips the film into the horror
genre for the final ten minutes. I was stunned the first time I saw it, and
man, I went to bed that night turning it over and over in my head...and didn't
sleep that great. The building sense of unease, like realizing you got the bad
acid and the trip hasn't peaked yet, is well-neigh unbearable for those ten
minutes. Overall, STOTGD is one of the few giallos that bears repeated viewings.
Just remember, tomatoes can feel pain...
Don't Torture A Duckling
Leave it to Fulci to turn genre conventions inside out.
Don't Torture A Duckling was Fulci's last film before he turned to the horror
genre with Zombi. There's no question that Fulci's best works are his horror
films, but I feel his giallo offerings are quite strong in their own right and
definitely underrated. Of these, DTAD is the least formulaic. There
are no black gloved killers here, and the movie takes place in the countryside
instead of the city. But DTAD is unquestionably a giallo of the highest order.
In a small village in southern Italy, young preadolescent
boys are turning up dead from strangulation. There are many suspects, the most
prominent of which is the local "witch," Martiara (Florinda Bolkan).
The other popular suspect is Patrizia (Barbara Bouchet), a bored city girl
hiding out after a drug scandal, who now passes the time by flaunting her naked
body in front of children (seriously.) The local Catholic Church, headed by young Don
Alberto (Marc Porel) and his mother, Aurelia (Irene Papas), tries to keep the
population under control. Local police are baffled. A reporter from up north,
Andrea (Tomas Milian), comes to investigate and recruits Patrizia to discover
some genuinely ugly truths about the quiet provincial town.
Fulci has some nasty things to say about organized
religion in this film, and honestly, my Catholic upbringing is surely part of
why I react viscerally to so much of his work. You can also see hints of the
patented Fulci violence to come; while not a particularly violent movie, there
is one scene towards the end that is classic Fulci, as well as one involving a
main character getting sadistically whipped that is hard to watch.
The acting might be the best in any Fulci picture. Bolkan
gives a fully committed performance, second only to her performance in Flavia
the Heretic (a film outside the scope of this conversation but absolutely
essential for anyone interested in this period of Italian filmmaking.) The rest
of the cast is strong, and it's fun to see Tomas Milian in an atypical role for
him.
There's nothing supernatural in this film, but it has a
weird vibe that, like Short Night of the Glass Dolls, can feel more like a
surreal horror film than a thriller. But DTAD is, for me, absolutely a giallo
and one of Fulci's best. Both The Psychic and A Lizard in a Woman's Skin might
be purer giallo films (both are excellent) but DTAD captures Fulci
on the verge of his great artistic breakthrough. It is a weird and wonderful
film. You won't think of Donald Duck the same.
Blood and Black Lace
If you are looking for the first “true” giallo film, you
could do worse than Mario Bava’s 1964 masterpiece Blood and Black Lace. Although
it was Argento who truly popularized the genre, Bava was there first and laid
the foundation for what a giallo was every bit as much as he did for the
Italian horror genre with classics like Black Sunday and Kill, Baby, Kill! He
would later arguably invent the body count film with Twitch of the Death Nerve
(aka Bay of Blood), from which Friday the 13th Part II would directly
rip off several set pieces. The man was a pioneer. Cursed by budgets that redefined
the term “shoestring” and indifferent promotional support (and, to be fair,
often indifferent screenplays), Bava has always seemed to me to get the short
shrift, despite being well-known among Italian film aficionados. Such are the
perils of being a pioneer.
The film opens with a stylistic murder of a model during
a windy, stormy night. From there terror and suspicion overtake her coworkers,
who fear what she may have written in her diary prior to the murder. An
intricate web of drugs, blackmail and sex (not explicit; this was 1964 and Bava
was always conservative in terms of nudity in his films) spills out as the
diary changes hands and the body count piles up. A double twist ending, back
when such things were still fresh, finishes off the film in style.
The film is an intense affair, perhaps the most intense
of Bava’s films, and though the plot itself is no wonder despite its myriad
twists and turns, the set pieces range from very good to absolutely fantastic.
A master of color, the bathtub murder scene is one of the greatest in all
giallo, with its chilling final shot of Claude Dantes in a see-through bra,
floating dead in the tub as blood begins to seep from her wrists. Unfortunately
that same scene and parts of the opening murder in the film were frequently
censored and created many distribution problems, making it a long while before
fans could see this movie as Bava intended (sadly, this would not be the first
nor last time this happened to Bava.) Fortunately, it is easy to find the full
version these days.
Though there is certainly violence in Blood and Black
Lace, and, as mentioned above, it is a fairly intense film, it is still a good
entry point for novices to the genre, particularly if onscreen violence makes
one squeamish. Bava was not a particularly gory filmmaker (until Twitch of the
Death Nerve, anyway) and I think this film can be appreciated by someone who
likes a stylish murder mystery. It still holds up well.
What Have You Done to Solange?
Massimo Dallamano’s What Have You Done to Solange? is the
prototypical giallo. You could say that this film is the very essence of the
genre. When you hear the term giallo, this film is what it refers to.
Dallamano is a workmanlike director. There is none of
Argento’s stylish flair, Fulci’s morbid obsessions, Bava’s striking
cinematography or Lado’s oddness. Pull up a list of giallo tropes, and you’ll
be able to check off nearly all of them. This film will not change your life or
blow your mind. I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m knocking it, though, because I
love this film. The films I’ve talked about so far push the boundaries of what
a giallo can be whereas Solange does not. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a
perfect example of what the genre is at its twisted little heart. It’s a great
way to spend a Friday night, you know?
One of a number of giallos based on the works of Edgar
Wallace (in this case, the novel The Clue of the New Pin), What Have You Done
to Solange? opens with a young couple making out on the shores of a lake. Turns
out the couple are a student and her gym teacher. During the tryst, Elizabeth
(the student) catches sight of a flashing knife in the woods. Henry (the gym teacher)
doesn’t believe her and is, of course, annoyed that their dalliance has been
disturbed. The next day we find out two things: Henry is married and more or
less a jackass, and the corpse of a young lady was discovered close to the spot
of the tryst. From there we get a typical giallo murder mystery, though the
body count is not as high as most giallos. But we do get a secret society
that likes their orgies! Alas, there is no footage of said orgies. Despite the
lurid plot, this is a relatively restrained giallo. There is some rough imagery
involving knives in places where knives should not go, but the film itself is
not all that graphic.
The characters in Solange are well-drawn and decently
acted, which is in part what raises this film above other giallos. The
protagonist is not a particularly likeable fellow, which I appreciate—it makes
the movie feel a little bit closer to the real world where people are complex.
On the negative side, some of the police procedural scenes drag, a curse many a
giallo contend with. The film loses some of its steam over the middle but picks
it up nicely again at the end. I must also mention the fabulous Ennio Morricone
score. He will always be most famous for The Good, the Bad and the Ugly but I
think he did some of his best work in the giallo genre.
All of these factors make What Have You Done to Solange?
the very essence of the giallo genre and a sterling example of what the genre
can be at its purest. It came out in 1971, which was the peak of the golden age
of giallo. It kind of got lost amidst the glut of giallos at the time, but
today is recognized as one of the finer offerings. If you want a pure
meat-and-potatoes giallo, you can’t do much better than Solange.
Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion
I love this movie. Ok, part of it is that I have a
complete crush on Dagmar Lassander in this film, whose sensual allure makes the
heart speed up rather rapidly. She was very good in Bava’s Hatchet for the
Honeymoon as well, but I think this is her best role.
Minou (Lassander) is far too often left alone due to her
husband’s frequent business travel. She has a tendency to binge on the ol’
booze, which leads to sleazy—even morbid—daydreaming. One night she goes
strolling on the beach and is approached by a none-to-friendly stranger who
possesses a knife-equipped cane (doesn’t everyone?) Said stranger growls some
threats about Minou’s absent husband, the gist of which is he (or she) could
implicate Mr. Absent in a murder if he/she so desired. Later, a friend of Minou’s
shows off a series of erotic photographs which appear to highlight the
stranger. Said stranger torments Minou via the phone and eventually names his
price for silence: her body. From there it’s a lurid trip into degradation for
poor Minou until the obligatory plot twist at the end.
Forbidden Photos has a wonderfully stylish vibe that contrasts
well with the early-70s sleaze and keeps the film from being as exploitive as
my description above sounds. Another great Ennio Morricone score keeps the
tension tight, and the silly plot holes don’t matter as you watch Lassander
give an intensely internalized and sensual performance. There is almost no
bloodshed in this movie and it is actually quite restrained. I’ve noticed a
funny thing writing about giallos for this piece—they probably sound far worse
when you describe the plot elements than they actually are when viewing.
We aren’t sure of Minou’s sanity during the bulk of the
film, and this helps keep everything off-center and engaging. I wouldn’t go so
far as to call this the quintessential giallo as I did What Have You Done to
Solange?, but virtually all of the elements that make giallos enjoyable are
here. Trust no one!
I could write about so many more of these films, but my
word counter says this piece is already over 3000 words and if you’ve read this
far, hopefully you will find some of these films to your liking and further
explore the genre. These films are far, far better than the overstuffed CGI
monstrosities that pass for filmmaking in America today. Below are eight
additional giallo films I’d highly recommend:
A Lizard in a Woman's Skin (Fulci)
Four Flies on Grey Velvet (Argento)
Tenebrae (Argento)
The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (Argento)
The Black Belly of the Tarantula (Paolo Cavara)
The Perfume of the Lady in Black (Francesco Barilli)
The Psychic (Fulci)
Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key
(Sergio Martino, one of the most consistent giallo directors)
Enjoy and beware of black gloves and red herrings!
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