Posts Tagged With: Edwige Fenech

Death Stalks On Five Yellow Discs… Severin’s Monumental ALL THE COLORS OF THE DARK / ALL THE COLORS OF GIALLO Box Set Reviewed.

10066.jpg

All The Colors Of The Dark. BD / CD. Severin. Region A. Unrated.

All The Colors Of Giallo. BD / CD. Severin. Region Free. Unrated.

Severin have always been generous with their bonus materials but here, like that ambassador dishing out the ferrero rocher at his embassy reception – possibly the very one attended by Edwige Fenech’s Julie Wardh in Sergio Martino’s The Strange Vice Of Mrs Wardh (1971) –  they are positively spoiling us! Their “All The Colours” sets, available singly at the links above and as a (getting rarer by the minute) box set, were only issued in January but, taken together, constitute what can already be confidently acknowledged as the release of 2019 (and if I’m wrong, cool, because it means that something very special is on its way during the next several months…)

You’re already going to be familiar with the plot of All The Colors Of The Dark (1972) from earlier editions of it that have been reviewed on this blog… and if not, why not?!? If you do need to get up to speed though, take a look here and / or here). Suffice to say, Martino’s third giallo is a bewitching fusion of that genre’s conventions and Rosemary’s Baby-patented Satanic panic, which consistently undercuts audience (and indeed, at the death, its own) expectations… with the divine Edwige Fenech fulfilling her quota of soapy shower scenes, for good measure.

41-0OQU2kSL._SX450_.jpg

ATCOTD now looks and sounds every bit as good as you’d expect from a Severin release, though I’m still longing for a surround sound mix of Bruno Nicolai’s memorable score, particularly that Sabbat theme, which the Marketing-Film DVD (as “Die Farben Der Nacht”) only offers on its German language track, necessitating more viewer fidgeting than during Fenech’s ablutions. Bonus materials include a somewhat less pristine looking print of the alternative US cut, retitled They’re Coming To Get You and shorn of several minutes so that distributors Independent-International (whom we’ll shortly be looking at in connection with Severin’s comparably nifty Blood Island Collection) could more easily shoehorn it into grindhouse and drive in double bills. This they managed by substituting a short passage of lame “spooky” graphics for the original’s “long day’s journey into night” intro and 99% of Martino’s subsequent carefully contrived, surrealistically nightmarish sequence. Needless to say, Fenech’s post-nightmare trip to the bathroom is present and politically incorrect…

They'reComing.jpg

There’s a nice bonus interview with director Martino, who renders a comprehensive A-Z of ATCOTD… a real “soup to nuts” job. He also reflects on Fenech’s long-standing reticence in talking about these movies (“For a woman, it’s embarrassing to admit that she was exploited for the public. Today, she’s a lady”) and expresses a particular fondness for All The Colors, on account of his second daughter being conceived during location scouting for it. He pays sad tribute to his late producer brother Luciano (“I was the mind and he was the arm”) and talks fondly of his prolific favoured screenwriter, Ernesto Gastaldi: “Now that we are both old, we lick the wounds of our old age together”.

In his interview, Gastaldi returns the compliments to Martino (“We are the last of the Mohicans!”) while suggesting that Martino had more mixed feelings about working for his brother than he generally lets on. As for Gastaldi’s own relationship with the producer: “Luciano was a strange friend… he never paid me much!”

ATCOTD.jpg

Gastaldi states that his intention with ATCOTD was to debunk the supernatural (though the finished film concludes a lot more ambiguously than that) and complains that he never wrote any of the shower scenes with which Fenech’s films are littered. He found the Queen of Giallo “cold… I’m not saying I wouldn’t have touched her with a stick or anything!” The interview is also noteworthy for Gastaldi’s touching tribute to the memory of Antonio Margheriti.

Fenech’s frequent leading man, George Hilton, is also interviewed, with useful interjections from Italy’s top home-grown genre pundit, Antonio Tentori. Kat Ellinger (author of All The Colors of Sergio Martino) supplies a commentary track to the main feature which, she admits, is anything but unbiased. There’s never any dead air on an Ellinger commentary.

You get a bunch of trailers and TV spots too, plus (if you bag one of the first 2,500 copies) a very welcome CD of Bruno Nicolai’s score, which I’ve coveted for so long that I think it’s one of the things you’re admonished not to covet in The Ten Commandments.

todos.jpg

If that little lot has got you in a yellow mood, prepare yourself for the second sub-set in this box, All The Colors Of Giallo. On disc 1, a new feature-length documentary of that title by Federico Caddeo gives a domestic perspective on this most enduring of Italian exports via a plethora of interviews… some of them recent, some that you’ll be familiar with from previous releases. The big five giallo directors are covered by interviews with Argento (who talks about how close The Bird With The Crystal Plumage came to box office oblivion on its original Italian release), Lamberto Bava (representing and remembering his father Mario), Martino (who claims to have experienced no sexual frisson from his frequent proximity to the naked Edwige Fenech… if you say so, Sergio), the ever-pugnacious Umberto Lenzi and (in an audio interview, on predictably coruscating form), Lucio Fulci. Luciano Ercoli also gets his say, alongside the most prolific giallo scripter of all, the indefatigable Ernesto Gastaldi. There are contributions from staple actor George Hilton (who describes the longevity of these movies as “a beautiful surprise”) and some of the genre’s glamorous female stars, including Edwige Fenech (during the short-lived period when Quentin Tarantino’s endorsements emboldened her to talk about her exploitation credits), Barbara Bouchet, Daria Nicolodi and Nieves Navarro / “Susan Scott”.

Tied together with the observations of film historian Fabio Melelli (“The Argento of today is a very different director from the one he once was”… no foolin’, Fabio!), this doc takes a bit of a scatter gun approach, though often hitting the target square on. I mean, do you really want to hear Bouchet dishing the dirt on who shagged whom during the making of Don’t Torture A Duckling? “Is a bear a Catholic?”, I can almost hear my incredulous readers shouting at their screens: “Does The Pope shit in the woods?!?”

BBouch.jpg

In an interesting sideline, Melelli suggests that Italian censors couldn’t be too strict on gialli / horror after the stuff that they’d permitted Pasolini as “a serious artist” … a double standard the British establishment has never had any problems sustaining.

Before you’ve had a chance to catch your breath (or don a pair of shades to protect your eyes from his Op Art shirt), erstwhile Giallo Pages editor John Martin is presenting a 20 minute overview of the genre in which he doesn’t come across as too much of a dick. Kudos to editor Zach Carter for that. David Flint directs.

The ensuing Giallothon comprises 4 hours (I kid you not!) of trailers for Italian slashers… the 82 coming attractions, of varying provenance and spankiness, might provoke debate about what should have been in there and what could comfortably have been left out, but that’s half the genre-defining beauty of it. You might even discover a couple of titles you’ve yet to catch up with.

Kat Ellinger pops up again, here deploying her extensive knowledge of the genre to rattle off a sustained series of capsule commentaries on each of the titles represented in this collection. Why is it that Italian giallo trailers are invariably more psychedelic than trailers for Italian acid movies? The one which compares Curse Of The Scorpion’s Tail, another Martino effort, to Bunuel, Eisenstein, et al, is a strong contender for the most enjoyably wacky selection here but that for Silvio Amadio’s Amuck is another bona fide hoot. Then, of course, there’s Lenzi’s “Spasmo… SPASMO… SPASMO!!!

Spasmo.jpgIm-Banne-des-Unheimlichen-The-Zombie-Walks-39x55-2-e1405437612120.jpg

Disc 2 takes us over the Alps into Germany for film historian Marcus Stiglegger’s investigation of that country’s krimi genre and its mutually influential relationship with its little Latin cousin, the giallo. This sets up another trailerthon in the shape of Kriminal!, 90 minutes of coming attractions for the cinematic offspring of Edgar Wallace’s interminable scribblings.

If your interest is sufficiently piqued by that, you might well want to seek out Universum Film’s gargantuan 33 krimi DVD box set. If, on the other hand, your eyes are bleeding after taking in all these yellow visuals, you might prefer to sit back in your grooviest chair, freshen your tumbler of J&B, slip those headphones on and enjoy The Strange Sounds Of The Bloodstained Films, a CD selection of musical highlights from the likes of Morricone, Ortolani, Orlandi, Alessandroni, Cipriani, De Massi et al, compiled and remastered from the archives of Beat Records by Alfonso Carillo and Claudio Fuiano. Go on, you’ve earned it…

50272460_648496648920810_5973879021494712968_n.jpg

And if you really feel like splashing out…

Advertisements
Categories: Blu-ray / DVD Reviews | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ringing Down The Curtain On The Golden Age Of Giallo… THE CASE OF THE BLOODY IRIS And OPERA Reviewed

Dario Argento's OPERA (1987) - CultFilms (2).jpg

The charnel house at Parma: Opera

BD/DVD Combi Edition. Cultfilms. Region B. 18.

The Case Of The Bloody Iris (1972) - Shameless (2).jpg

Edwige Fenech’s Garden Of Love: The Case Of The Bloody Iris

BD. Shameless. Region B. 18.

Now I like mechanical, by the numbers spaghetti slashers… but I like barking mad, auteurist gothic cross-over gialli, too. So which is better? There’s only one way to find out…

A timely brace of releases from sister labels Shameless and CultFilms affords us the opportunity for a “compare and contrast” exercise that might shed some light on certain aspects of the giallo phenomenon. Failing that, at least we’ve got a pretext to run yet more alluring photos of Edwige Fenech…

42736186_1058095301036979_1012336323191213100_n.jpg

The Case Of The Bloody Iris (an unassuming little handle compared to the film’s original Italian title, which translates as “Why These Strange Drops Of Blood On The Body Of Jennifer?”) was directed by Giuliano Carnimeo (masquerading as “Anthony Ascott”) during 1972, quite possibly the giallo’s annus mirabilis in purely quantitative terms, when every journey man who could work a camera seemed to be churning ’em out. Qualitatively, Argento took the genre to its zenith in 1975 with Deep Red and while others slackened off, his reputation / connections / family fortune enabled him to carry on obsessively reworking his favourite giallo themes with the likes of 1977’s Suspiria (you heard me!), Tenebrae (1982) and Phenomena (1985), before contributing one of the final two worthwhile entries (Opera… the other was his protegé Michele Soavi’s Stagefright) to the now moribund cycle in 1987.

Sergio Martino spent 1972 tweaking the giallo template, adding supernatural overtones with All The Colours Of Darkness and injecting a little Poe into his Les Diaboliques variant Your Vice Is A Locked Room and Only I Have The Key (before kick-starting the stalk’n’slash wave with the following year’s Torso). All very well but in the meantime big brother / producer Luciano, craving another “Martinoesque” thriller to cash in on Sergio’s 1971 successes The Strange Vice Of Mrs Wardh and The Case Of The Scorpion’s Tale, roped in reliable jobbing director Carnimeo to collaborate with scripting stalwart Ernesto Gastaldi, plus returning stars Fenech and George Hilton and ubiquitous OST composer Bruno Nicolai to knock out this very passable facsimile.

cbi7.jpg

TCOTBI packs a string of nubile psycho fodder (in all their funky ’70s finery) plus a veritable shoal of red herrings onto photo model Jennifer (Fenech)’s floor of a swish Genoan apartment building. Who’s cutting this collection of cuties off in their respective primes? Difficult to say, given the culprit’s standard issue black leather trench coat, broad-brimmed hat and stocking mask, but the cast of candidates comprises suspiciously smooth architect Hilton; a predatory lipstick lesbian (Lana Del Rey lookalike Annabella Incontrera) who’s predictably hot for Fenech’s bod; her disapproving, grumpy father; a nosey-parker old crone who’s keeping tabs on everybody else in the building; and her secret, scarred son, who is presented as obvious psycho-killer material because of his addiction to lurid horror comics (an imprudent tack to take in a lurid slasher film, one might have thought… ) Dodgiest of all is Jennifer’s ex Adam (Ben Carra), who’s stalking her, sending her irises and generally trying to lure her back into her former drug-crazed swinging lifestyle.  ”I’ll tear you as I tore the petals of the iris…” he rants: “You’re an object and you belong to me… since our celestial marriage you’ve belonged to me!” (shades of the overheated fruit loop played by Ivan Rassimov in Strange Vice).

1172818_10201g1352209529_o.jpg

All of this understandably reduces Fenech to a nervous wreck, though her fellow photo model Marilyn (Paola Quattrini) is keener to attribute her agitated state to sexual frustration. “You made a big mistake, going from group sex to chastity” she advises, urging Jennifer to let her hair down a little, not to mention her drawers. The mandatory clueless cops (an inspector who’s more interested in collecting stamps than cracking the case, and his long-suffering side-kick, who seems to have wandered in from a Sexy-Comedy) persuade the reluctant Jennifer and Marilyn to stay in their apartment in a high risk strategy designed to flush out the killer (leaving them with the helpful advice: “Don’t trust any of your neighbours!”) as the bodies and improbable plot convolutions proliferate all around them.

One memorably barmy scene involves the night-club act of athletic black chick Mizar (Carla Brait) which involves her challenging horny audience members to get her clothes off in three minutes, while she’s beating them up (no, really!) This character’s later bath-tub demise is modelled upon one in the mother of all “imperilled models” gialli, Mario Bava’s Blood And Black Lace (1964). Elsewhere an attack on a girl while she’s pulling a garment over her head and a public stabbing in broad daylight anticipate sequences in Argento’s Tenebrae (1982), and an elevator slashing is every bit as clearly the inspiration for one in Brian De Palma’s Dressed To Kill (1980) as the power-tool slaying in Umberto Lenzi’s Seven Orchids Stained In Red (1972) was for the one in De Palma’s Body Double (1984)… what is it about Italian slasher directors and bloody petals, anyway?

Bloody Iris.jpg

Carnimeo adroitly keeps the viewer’s suspicion alternating around his collection of ne’er do wells, with Hilton ostentatiously flagged as prime suspect, despite his professed haemophobia. Predictably, things are even more complicated than they appear, the true culprit’s puritanical motivation getting the customary curt airing before his / her equally obligatory dispatch by being chucked down a stair well. Gastaldi also manages to work a Spellbound-type cathartic liberation for one of the main characters into this boffo denouement. DP Stelvio Massi and sound track composer Bruno Nicolai perform their respective chores with the customary panache and although TCOTBI is nowhere near as adventurous, inventive or influential as Sergio Martino’s several stabs at giallo, suspend your disbelief to enjoy one of the genre’s most pleasantly time passing guilty pleasures.

CULT503_Opera_2DPackshop copy.png

The second release under consideration here is another balaclava-load of bubbling brains altogether, the final refinement of its director’s patented giallo mix before a precipitous slide into self-parody (if you’ve never seen Argento’s on-the-nose 1998 Phantom Of The Opera remake… well, do yourself a favour and keep it that way). So, there’s a primal (and decidedly sadistic) scene that’s left an indelible mark on one of the main characters, a leading lady struggling to make sense of something she’s witnessed (or possibly just dreamed), an ineffectual police investigation that obliges another character to turn amateur sleuth… pepper all this with state-of-the-art camera technology in the service of vaulting directorial ambition and fiendish Sergio Stivaletti splatter FX and what do you get? Dario Argento’s Opera, that’s what!

Dario Argento's OPERA (1987) - CultFilms (3).jpg

Thrown into the spotlight on the opening night of a controversial production of Giuseppe Verdi’s Macbeth, young diva Betty (Cristina Marsillach) promptly feels the full force attendant on the proverbial “Curse of The Scottish Play”. Trussed up by a mysterious masked stalker who tapes needles under her eyelids, she is forced to witness her nearest and dearest being stabbed in the gizzard and butchered before her unblinking eyes (an ordeal exacerbated by outbreaks of terrible heavy metal music on the soundtrack!)

So who’s giving her the needle… her dictatorial director Marco? A disgruntled diva? Urbano Barberini’s drippy, star-struck investigating officer? If Marco was a controversial pick to direct opera then Dario Argento, in the light of such operatic horrors as Suspira, Inferno and Phenomena, was a natural to direct Opera… indeed, it’s unlikely that anybody but him could have dreamed up (in conjunction with Franco Ferrini) this extreme twist on Gaston Leroux’s source novel). To render his OTT vision, Argento roped in DP Ronnie Taylor (*), with whom he’d previously shot some cutting edge car commercials, to collaborate on such startling moments as Betty’s agent Myra (Daria Nicolodi) being shot in the face through a keyhole, or the climactic attack of pouncing, vengeful ravens, viewed from the birds’ aerial POVs. Things are ultimately wound up with an ending that’s so very left-field, even by Argento’s standards, that Marsillach’s space cadet soliloquy / lizard rescuing routine were cut from export prints for many years (you get to see it all here, though you won’t necessarily believe it).

mira.pngOperaKeyhole07.jpgOperaKeyhole09.jpg

Opera is baroque, beautiful and downright berserk enough (Nicolodi’s death scene holds it own in comparison with anything else in Argento’s extraordinary canon) to secure its place in the director’s matchless golden era (on which it rings down the curtain in appropriately flamboyant style) although it’s no Suspiria. Accordingly, it’s been given a mere 2k restoration (half the ‘k’s of CultFilms’ eye-searing Suspiria restoration) and looks mighty fine for it, with the revelation of pastel tendencies that recall the job Arrow recently did on Deep Red restoration. Argento supervised this one personally, with reference to his own favoured cinema print which, we learn in the lengthy bonus interview on this disc, he stole! Among the other extras we are given a split screen look at the restoration process plus extensive behind-the-scenes “making of” footage… I’ve seen various permutations of this stuff in previous featurettes and documentaries but what we have here appears to be the motherlode.

27_dario-argento-pictured-on-the-set-of-terror-at-the-opera.jpg

Shameless have managed a sharp BD transfer of Carnimeo’s film with little grain to distract you from your contemplation of the onscreen carnage, though some might find the colour palate of this particular Bloody Iris a tad dull and overly green compared to, e.g. (my handiest reference point) the DVD on Anchor Bay’s 2002 “Giallo Collection” box set. Bonus wise, you get Interviews with Paola Quattrini and George Hilton. Quattrini is mystified that people would still want to ask her about this film 45 after the event, but muses that this tale of misogynistic murder might have renewed relevance in the age of #metoo. George “I know I’m handsome” Hilton reminisces about his many love scenes with Edwige Fenech… well, it’s a tough job but some jammy bastard’s gotta do it!

MV5BNDFlNjg1NjQtODQ1NC00YmYyLWJkYzctYTVkZjg0MGMzODc4XkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyODkxOTE5ODg@._V1_SX1777_CR0,0,1777,999_AL_.jpg

(*) Mr Taylor took his wife to see Opera for the first time when it played at The Scala in 1991, as part of the launch event for Maitland McDonagh’s book Broken Mirrors / Broken Minds, with Argento in attendance. I was privy to her reaction. “Not impressed” would be a serious understatement…

Categories: Blu-ray / DVD Reviews | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

“There were never any problems with Edwige”… The BARBARA BOUCHET Interview.

img_0708-580x360.jpg

I tend to be more awe-struck in the presence of my musical idols than around film folk. Perhaps I’ll bore you some other time with my theory about why this might be. I did feel rather star struck on the occasions I was introduced to Dario Argento and Lucio Fulci, though the latter (after a wicked leg pull) took trouble to put me at my ease. The last time I encountered this pesky emotion was on the 21st September 2013 at Manchester’s ever-wonderful Festival Of Fantastic Films, when I was knocking on the door of Barbara Bouchet’s hotel room to arrange an interview. Why this rare attack of bashfulness? Was I expecting to find her sunbathing naked, as in Fulci’s Don’t Torture A Duckling (1972)? Maybe just hoping…

Barb Bouchet .JPG

… maybe it was because BB is so palpably a film star. Don’t get me wrong, during the hour or so that we talked Barbara didn’t for one moment act the star / act up. She just exudes that certain je ne sais quoi… and there’s a certain laser focused, business-like steel beneath the impeccably groomed exterior, which there probably needed to be for her to survive the upheavals of her early life.

Barbara Bouchet6.jpg

The interview from which the following passages are excerpted originally appeared in its entirety in Dark Side magazine #156 at the end of 2013, which you might well want to check out. At the point where these selection kick in, the former Barbel Goutscher had made a promising start in Hollywood (winning a Gidget lookalike competition and snogging Captain Kirk in the Star Trek episode By Any Other Name) before things stalled after a run in with notorious martinet Otto Preminger, for whom she’d signed a seven year contract. Sticking to her guns, she was released from that (“maybe he did me a favour because we were both East European emigrés”) and attempted to pick up some career momentum in Europe. First she tried for a part in Antonioni’s Blow Up (1966)…

I flew from Paris to London at very short notice because he was there looking for girls for Blow Up and wanted to see me but when I arrived he told me: “I’m much too tired to see you, come back tomorrow”. You can imagine how I reacted to that. At the same time Charley Feldman had been pursuing me so I contacted him in preference to Mr Antonioni and suddenly I was in a new seven year contract, beginning with Casino Royale.

Bouchet with Sharon Tate at the Playboy Club in London, 1966.jpg

With Sharon Tate at The Playboy Club in London, 1966.

vlcsnap-2017-08-15-13h58m16s980-2.png

Your first significant role in Italy was in Paolo Cavara’s 1971 giallo The Black Belly Of The Tarantula (above). Cavara was previously known as a maker of Mondo documentaries and I wondered if this was apparent from his handling of actors in a dramatic context…

There were no problems with Paolo and he got good performances out of everybody.

He certainly did… it’s your antics in the memorable massage parlour opening scene that set the maniac off on his kill-spree and you become his first victim… it’s been said that you get killed off early in so many of your giallo roles because you always had to run off and start another picture…

Is that what they say? (Laughs)

You do get a more substantial role in Silvio Amadio’s Alla Ricera Del Piacere, a film with a very decadent atmosphere in which you starred with Farley Granger and Rosalba Nera…

You mean Amuck?

248ffb4e07e52c04573940038fed4de7.png

Yeah, it was released under the usual variety of titles. That one is remembered for your lesbian love scene with Rosalba Neri, which I gather was received with great controversy in its day…

Oh yes, to the Italians it was quite scandalous! Whereas I had grown up with a large family in a small house, everybody was very casual about nakedness so it was no big deal to me. The Italians did get very excited about it, though. (Can’t honestly claim that I didn’t – Bobby F)

Another scene that you did which caused a bit of a commotion was the one in which you’re naked and taunting an adolescent boy in Fulci’s Don’t Torture A Duckling…

Yes, Fulci was taken to court over that!

He was always being taken to court… and he always walked.

Yes, he did this time too because we were able to prove that when you saw the back of the child, who was looking at me, it wasn’t actually a child – it was a dwarf. And of course when you see the face of the child who’s talking to me, he’s not looking at me, he’s looking at a blank wall.

C4FDv21XAAEXn7P.jpg

It’s amazing that the prosecutors could have shown such an elementary lack of cinematic savvy… did your nude and sexy scenes ever cause any grief for you with your family?

Well, these films didn’t tend to play in The States, where they were living…

… maybe in the kind of grind houses that your parents wouldn’t have frequented.

They did cause some problems for my sons in Italy, they got into fights with their classmates who said that they’d seen me naked in sexy magazines, like some of the ones I signed for you earlier. I decided to move them out of the house so as not to upset my sons, but I left the suitcase outside my house for one minute and when I came back it had been stolen. So I think when the thief opened it, he would have been disappointed.

Quite the opposite, I would have thought…

3ImagesBouchet01.jpg

I told my sons that if anybody teased them about their mother being in sexy films and magazines, they should reply that I was in them because  I was beautiful, but their mothers couldn’t do that because they were fat, old hags! They liked that. As I said, acting these roles is no big deal for me. There are just two films that I turned down because I thought they were too much. One was Just Jaeckin’s The Story Of O and the other was one of Tinto Brass’s pictures…

Salon Kitty?

I don’t remember which one it was, but I didn’t want to do that kind of film.

I was wondering if a multi-lingual actor such as yourself found it frustrating to have to re-dub your dialogue in post production, as is the Italian way?

Well of course, the first time you’re told not to worry about your lines but just to count “one, two, three, four.”.. because it’s all going to be re-dubbed later… that does take a bit of getting used to. When I later made films outside of Italy it came as an equal shock that you were acting and you couldn’t hear traffic noises or the sound of technicians talking on the set.

Whenever fans talk about gialli and Italian sexy comedies, the names of two actresses always come up – yourself and Edwige Fenech. What are your memories of La Fenech?

Cvs4mnlWIAAzTVG.jpg

(Smiles) We only appeared together in one movie, you know? (Hm, I think there were a couple more than that – Bobby F). When they wanted a blonde they would call me, when they wanted a brunette it was Edwige and there were other girls who could fill these roles if we were not available for a movie. The press are always trying to get an angle, to make a story, you know, so they wanted us to be rivals but it was all stupid, there were never any problems with Edwige.

You never appeared in any of the excellent gialli directed by Sergio Martino…

… but I appeared in sexy comedies that he directed, which were produced by his brother Luciano, the lover of Edwige.

You also appeared in two movies by Antonio Margheriti… he was revered as a technical director and in Bed Of A Thousand Pleasures he had you making love to an invisible man and to another guy on a flying carpet… memorable stuff!

You say that but I can’t remember any of it!

Maybe you remember Death Rage, the other film you made with Margheriti, a little better… it’s rumoured that you didn’t get on too well with your co-star, Yul Brynner…

Yul-Brinner-Barbara-Bouchet.jpg

I certainly remember that I hated how horribly rude he was to the make-up girls and other people who were there trying to look after him, so when I found out that he was superstitious about chrysanthemums I sent him a beautiful big bunch of them.

These movie tough guys are all big girls’ blouses… another one in which you die very early was Fernando Merighi’s Casa D’Appuntamento aka The Bogey Man And The French Murders… what was going on in that one with the pointless Humphrey Bogart lookalike and everything?

I don’t know what the point of that was. You know what? I don’t watch a lot of my films… was that one shot in Germany?

The Red Queen Kills Seven Times was shot in Germany. You keep seeing shots of the Eiffel Tower in Merighi’s film, but who knows? It looked a bit thrown together.

That’s how some of them were.

BB in limo.jpg

In one of your earliest giallo roles, for Alberto De Martino’s The Man With Icy Eyes, your character is described by another as “the kind of broad who’ll do anything for money” and you did go onto perfect the role of the femme fatale who’s irresistible to men but has her own evil or at least ambiguous agenda.

Yeah, but it’s fun to do these roles because they’re the exact opposite of how I am in real life.

Your characters have taken some terrible beatings from the men they’ve wronged. You’re treated particularly violently by Henry Silva in Andrea Bianchi’s mafia epic The Ones Who Count aka Cry Of A Prostitute…

Ugh! (Shivers) That was unpleasant… I didn’t remember it being that unpleasant when we made it. In fact I prefer not to remember too much about that one. When Quentin Tarantino arranged a screening of some of my movies in LA he opened with that one and I wish he hadn’t…

MV5BMmM5MWNjNzctOGRkNC00OWRmLTlmZmItM2VkOWI5NzkwMzlmXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMjUyNDk2ODc@._V1_.jpg

Henry Silva was one mean screen mo-fo but I gather he was a sweetheart in real life…

He was a lovely man but with that face he was always going to be cast as the bad guy… what a face! Cheek bones like razor blades…

In some of your films, including that one, you’re the bad girl who “gets her comeuppance” but I think Don’t Torture A Duckling features one of your best roles and performances because you start off as this snotty rich bitch but Fulci develops your character to the point where, by the end of the film, you’re really sympathetic.

Yes, it’s the actress’s craft to bring these things out…

… which you do so well in that film and your relationship with Tomas Milian’s character develops accordingly.

Tomas was alright but at that time he was very into his relationship with Irene Papas…

tumblr_p60c8vItMv1s9g0yko1_1280-1.jpgtomas-milian-festival-del-cinema-di-roma.jpg

Fulci had a bit of a reputation as a tyrant and a misogynist on set…

On Don’t Torture The Duckling (sic)? Yes, I have heard this but he never showed that side of himself to me. He was very focussed on getting the movie made, yes, but we got on just fine.

Your “manipulative bitch” character is brought to perfection in Fernando Di Leo’s definitive Italian noir, Milan Calibre 9. Di Leo also had a bit of a hard ass, misogynistic reputation… did you see anything of this?

Di Leo was absolutely fine with me. A misogynist? In fact I discovered after his death that he had been quite a lady’s man.

Sometimes the two go together. It’s often said that the deregulation of Italian TV killed the Italian film industry, but you kept working with your TV health and beauty show…

Yes… I saw what happened to Sylva Koscina, an East European actress like me (she came from Yugoslavia). She was of the generation just before me and when she reached a certain age, the roles dried up. She took it very badly and she died very young. So I said to myself, am I going to let that happen to me? Oh no! So I stopped doing films round about the time of Sergio Martino’s Spaghetti At Midnight in 1978 and devoted some time to bringing up my family.

15181.jpg

My mother took me to a psychic in Arizona who predicted that I would go to work in television and I said no way. I had no intention of doing that but as soon as I stepped off the plane back in Italy, Berlusconi’s people offered me a pilot, then a TV series. It was based in a health spa because I have always looked after myself, kept in shape, eaten the right food and taken vitamins and so on. I had my own health business and I told them it would have to be plugged in every episode of the TV series. I was resolved to make it work for my benefit.

Good for you. Speaking of plugging, why is everybody in your movies always furiously knocking back bottles of J&B? Sometimes the screen is almost filled with stacked-up cases of the stuff…

Well in those days, you know, you could partially finance the movie with these product placements, so there was Coca Cola all over the place and yes, J&B. But then the Italian government brought in a law that you couldn’t do this anymore.

Killjoys! Just for old time’s sake, why don’t we …

milan7.jpgtumblr_mljeqpCUZ81rmlltyo1_500.gif

Categories: Interviews | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

“A Man Turned Inside Out”… Kat Ellinger’s ALL THE COLOURS OF SERGIO MARTINO Reviewed

Martino : Fenech.jpg

Ra ra me! The man and his muse in the early ’70s.

Arrow Books. P/B. 91 Pages. ISBNs 0993306063 / 978-0993306068.

I’ve been after this one for a while and finally got my hands on a PDF version (if, indeed, such a thing is possible) through the good offices of the guys and girls at Fetch Publicity.

Kat Ellinger, a commentator and critic who’s proving almost as prolific as Sergio Martino was in his heyday, has gone through all the available material (including our interview and the director’s autobiography Mille Peccati)

81jH1EdrHKL.jpg

to come up with an engagingly sure-footed and wide-ranging introduction to his career, even if (as the author herself concedes) the limitations of her word allocation meant that she couldn’t always delve as deeply into it as she might have liked.

Nevertheless, over and above its usefulness as a primer for curious general readers (their interest possibly piqued by the praise levelled at Martino by Messers. Tarantino and Roth), there’s plenty of stuff in here that might come as news even to those who consider themselves well boned-up on the director… e.g that he participated in his family’s home movie version of Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde in 1955 (what wouldn’t I give to see that?) and nearly made a movie with (just imagine!) Bruce Lee.

4009625_orig.jpg

Speaking of boned-up, Ellinger devotes plenty of coverage to Martino’s working relationship with Edwige Fenech and also delves further into his innumerable sexy-comedies than is customary in these things, while acknowledging the near impossibility of viewing many of them. Perhaps Arrow, Shameless, Severin and / or 88 Films might look into acquiring some of these titles for UK release? And while they’re at it, what about Martino’s 1993 TV giallo series Delitti Privati / Private Crimes, whose cast reconvenes the Virgin Wife teaming of Fenech and Ray Lovelock and about which the author writes tantalisingly.

I particularly love the quote in which Fenech avers that she sees no significant distinction between a Bergman film and Guido Malatesta’s Samoa, Queen Of The Jungle (1968), one of her earliest starring vehicles… she obviously appeared in enough issues of my beloved Continental Film Review to absorb its editorial policy.

7f3fdccca963201d5875fa71eec3323e.jpg

Ellinger covers Martino’s family background and the sociological / historical context of the various genres he worked in well and in discussing the evolution of the Italian thriller, picks up Michael Mackenzie’s concept of the f-giallo and the m-giallo and takes a run with it. It was also interesting to be reminded of Martino’s comments on how increasing sexual permissiveness and the reaction against it in Italy led him to explicitly and quite self-consciously impose the dreaded “have sex and die” rule in Torso (1973) and to reflect how massively influential that was, five years later, on Halloween (and everything that came after it!)

george-hilton-edwige-fenech-wardh.jpg

Here at The House Of Freudstein we pride ourselves on snappy titles (that of this posting refers to the US mis-marketing of Martino’s Island Of The Fishmen, 1979) and Kat clearly does too, on the evidence of chapter headings like “Trembling Cities, Cops In Action” and “Cannibal Slaves, Cyborgs And Other Exciting Stories”. Things are rounded off nicely with a discography, bibliography and index. An original Gilles Vranckx cover doesn’t hurt, either. One minor grouch… a still from Enzo Milione’s The Sister Of Ursula (1978) seems to have gate-crashed the book, or at least my PDF version of it.

I’d dearly love to see this volume on sale in a few more shops. In the meantime, you can get it here. Hopefully the author will find the opportunity, amid her prolific other outpourings, to expand ATCOSM into the door-stopping tome it deserves to be at some point in the future.

06b7048b-9fe3-4497-b6d2-bd3ec9632518.jpg

Categories: Book Reviews | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

50 Shades Of Blu… THE STRANGE VICE OF MRS WARDH on Shameless BD

blade-of-the-ripper.jpg1118full-the-strange-vice-of-mrs.-wardh-(aka-blade-of-the-ripper)-screenshot.jpg

BD. Region B. Shameless. 18.

Much  has been made of the “sex killer” angle in gialli… possibly too much. The culprit in what we might as well, for the sake of argument, concede to be the first giallo proper (Mario Bava’s The Girl Who Knew Too Much, 1963), though more than a little unhinged, turns out to be murdering on account of very cool calculations about an inheritance. Similar considerations motivate the assassin(s) in Bava’s Blood And Black Lace (1964), no matter how “sexily” its several slayings are rendered for our delectation… indeed, it frequently seems in that film as though Bava is inviting the audience to get off on the couture slaughter more than the film’s hard-nosed killer(s) is / are actually doing.

It would be perverse to argue that eroticism plays no part in these films and their popular appeal. Certainly during those bonkbusting Carroll Baker vehicles churned out in Bava’s wake by producer Luciano Martino, e.g. Romolo Guerrieri’s The Sweet Body Of Deborah (1968) and Umberto Lenzi’s So Sweet… So Perverse from the following year, the jaded jet-setting characters, when they aren’t swindling each other out of large sums of money, are clearly having more and better sex than you ever have… probably took some time out to embezzle money from your company’s pension fund too, the bastards!

Sweet Bod Of Deborah.jpg

Dario Argento’s The Bird With The Crystal Plumage, which changed the whole giallo ball-game when it crossed over from domestic to international success in 1970, was the first Italian thriller to prioritise (if not the first to feature) the exploits of a sexually sadistic killer. Even then, Argento’s focussed as much (if not more) on the trauma that had warped this character’s psyche out of shape rather than the lip-smacking relish with which they went about their stabby antics. Consider, furthermore, the motivations of the murderers in Argento’s subsequent films. You might well be surprised at how very few of them are actually out-and-out “sex killers”. But I’m getting ahead of myself… this argument will be developed in a future posting about The Stendhal Syndrome (if I ever get round to writing it!)

Strange_Vice_of_Mrs_Wardh_005.jpg

Where were we? Ah yes… early 1970 saw Luciano Martino planning The Strange Vice Of Mrs Wardh as another steamy chamber giallo vehicle for Carroll Baker, but entertaining doubts about the cost of rehiring the star and another director. He didn’t have to look far for a solution… kid brother Sergio was chomping at the bit to direct his sophomore feature and had established his qualifications with the likes of spagwest Arizona Colt Returns (1970), various mondo documentaries and by shooting additional material to bump up the running time on such films as Hans Schott-Schöbinger’s 1969 adaptation of Flaubert’s Madame Bovary.

edwige-fenech-sins-of-madame-bovary.jpg

It was on the latter that Sergio discovered a breath-taking young starlet named Edwige Fenech, who promptly became a fixture in Luciano’s pictures, not to mention (jammy sod!) his bed. Add indefatigable screen writer Ernesto Gastaldi and all the ingredients (give or take some hunky love interest / potential killer for Edwige) were in place for a run of classic gialli, kicking off with the revamped, sexed-up Strange Vice, on which Sergio proved beyond dispute that he’d been paying attention during his stint as second unit director on Bava’s 1963 epic of sadomasochism beyond the grave, The Whip and the Body (1963).

the-whip-and-the-body-poster.jpg

Meanwhile Gastaldi pounced enthusiastically on psychosexual hints made in Argento’s smash but borrowed its fetishistically clad fruit-cake only for that character (newbies beware, things could be about to get a bit spoilerish) to end up playing second banana to an insurance fraud conspiracy (“I told you, the best time to kill anyone is when a homicidal maniac is on the loose!” one conspirator tells another). Audacious stuff…. I mean, is there any cinematic precedent for a serial killer who is simultaneously the film’s principal red herring?

next.jpg

TSVOMW’s opening intercuts a fatal razor attack on a prostitute with the arrival of the plane that is bringing the Wardhs to Vienna, greeted by a quotation from one of that city’s most famous sons, Sigmund Freud, concerning the potential killer inside all of us. Fenech plays the eponymous Julie Wardh (the “h” at end of her surname allegedly intended to forestall any libel proceedings from aggrieved real life Mrs Wards!), the neglected, bored wife of a workaholic diplomat (Alberto De Mendoza). She is simultaneously stimulated and troubled by salacious memories of her full-on sado-masochistic entanglement with brooding Jean (old Tartar cheek-bones himself, Ivan Rassimov). Their idea of fun, as revealed in sensuous slow motion flashbacks to the accompaniment of a Nora Orlandi theme that can only be described as sacramental, included him beating her in a muddy field (shades of Bunuel’s Belle De Jour, 1967) and – don’t try this at home, kiddies! – bonking her on a bed of broken glass. No wonder Julie is troubled by her cab driver’s stated desire for “perverts” to “get what they deserve”.

sv2.pngtumblr_o71l38dGMn1uctr63o2_500.gifthe-strange-vice-of-mrs-wardt_top10films.jpg

Nor does the life of a neglected ambassador’s wife seem anything like as dull as we are expected to believe, including as it does wild embassy parties where drunken floozies rip each other’s dresses off, prior to one of them being bloodily dispatched in a Hitchcockian shower sequence (“Another girl slashed to death?” remarks Julie’s cynical friend Carol: “We should be grateful that he’s eliminating all the competition!”) Julie is horrified to discover Jean popping up among the ferrero rocher at one such bash but not sufficiently horrified to resist a) succumbing to his erotic menace and b) striking up yet another affair, with smoothie antipodean inheritance chaser George (George Hilton). When somebody starts blackmailing Mrs W about her various extra-marital liaisons, the worldly Carol (Cristina Airoldi) becomes convinced that Jean is playing his old head games with her, and agrees to meet him in a park on Fenech’s behalf… only to get sliced up a treat (I wonder how grateful she was for that!) La Dolce Vita has definitely soured and in mortal fear that Jean has lost it completely, Julie abandons her hubby and absconds to Spain with George. No prizes for guessing that there are several more twists to come…

Aside from her obvious facility for nude scenes (no shit, Sherlock!), Fenech deserves credit for a performance that gets us on the side of a protagonist who is, when you get right down to it, pretty selfish, shallow and unlikable… in many ways a 20th Century rendering of the Balzac character she played for Schott-Schöbinger.

edwige-fenech-the-strange-vice-of-mrs-wardh copy.jpglesdiaboliquesshock.jpg

Martino confesses readily to the influence that Clouzot’s Les Diaboliques (1955, above) exerted over TSVOMW (and what about Hitchcock’s Strangers On A Train, 1951?) but has waxed ambivalent about The Bird With The Crystal Plumage, to the extent of half-heartedly claiming, when he and fellow ‘B’ movie directors were being feted (at the behest of Quentin Tarantino) during the Venice Film Festival ten years ago, that his picture actually preceded the Argento biggie. In sharp contrast to Argento’s signature use of steadicam, his characteristic deployment of hand-held camera does convey a sense of urgency, plunging the viewer into the thick of the carnage and his restrained use of zoom underscores dramatic moments without descending into Franco-esque overuse. But there’s no doubt where those “through the keyhole” POV shots, which Martino would repeat through just about all of his subsequent gialli, came from. To be fair, Argento himself seems to have been influenced by the scene of Airoldi’s death in the park, restaging it pretty faithfully for Four Flies On Grey Velvet (1971.) Martino’s diplomatic comment on this is that both scenes owe a lot to Antonioni’s Blow Up (1966.)

blow-up-.jpg

Argento inarguably pinched one of TSVOMW’s central plot devices, by which calculating, opportunistic killers take advantage of a genuinely deranged individual’s murder rampage to deflect suspicion from themselves for Tenebrae (1982) though if anything, Argento tones it down because at any one time in Martino’s flick, there are no less than four killers operating with dovetailing motivations, no less than three of whom are out to get Fenech! Looks like Freud wasn’t just blowing cigar smoke up our asses with that opening quote…

131 - Blade of the Ripper Mexican Lobby Card 3.jpg

Shameless continue their drive to upgrade notable titles on their slate to Blu-ray. Having started a bit late in the game, they’ve avoided some of the pitfalls that bedevilled various early-adopting competitors, some of whose remasterings were looking distinctly variable in quality for a while there. It could be argued that Shameless have had less opportunity to cock one of these up because they’ve so far only done so few, but now that this aspect of their operation is picking up it looks like they’ve learned well from the mis-steps of others. Those having been made, DNR is currently considered less desirable than an “authentic” level of upfront graininess and if you can live with that, opportunities are now opening up to grasp hitherto unguessed-at cinematographic subtleties in some of your favourite films. Arrow’s recent(ish) Deep Red was a particular delight in this regard and the efforts of Emilio Foriscot and Florian Trenker are done similar justice here. No sound problems for audiophiles to have hissy fits over, either.

strange-vice-poster.jpg

Bonus materials comprise the Martino interview and Fenech profile from the previous Shameless release, plus a mini-doc in which most of the significant participants in TSVOMW have their say, the latter lifted from Italian label No Shame’s early DVD edition. Justin Harries’ “fact track” also reappears from that original Shameless release and alternates entry-level giallo observations with some interesting speculation about how the various men in Mrs Wardh’s tangled love life correspond to Freud’s tripartite model of the human mind. I used to get a lot of flack for bringing this kind of thing into the discussion of exploitation movies but in case that’s too high-brow for you, Harries also describes Martino’s film as Sex In The City with added murder.

Another home run from Shameless!

strangevicesingle.jpg

Categories: Blu-ray / DVD Reviews | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

ALL THE COLOURS Of Blu… Sergio Martino’s Classic Occult Giallo On Shameless BD

81C6geLLetL._SL1500_.jpg

BD. Region B. Shameless. 18.

When Argento’s Bird With The Crystal Plumage parlayed Mario Bava’s giallo formula into the stuff of international crossover hits in 1970, every spaghetti exploitation director worth their salt (and several who weren’t) scrambled to get a piece of the slasher action by setting killers in broad-brimmed hats and dark macs onto scantily clad ingenues. Sergio Martino surfed this filone particularly adeptly, aided and abetted by the most scantily clad and beautiful ingenue of them all, his producer brother Luciano’s room mate Edwige Fenech. The Strange Vice Of Mrs Wardh aka Blade Of The Ripper / The Next Victim / Next! (1971) pounces enthusiastically on psychosexual hints made in Argento’s box-office smash and established a template in which Fenech’s neurotic character would jet set around the world in her attempts to live down the sexy skeletons in her closet and escape the homicidal nut job on her tail, only to discover that just because she’s paranoid, it doesn’t mean that several of the men in her busy love life aren’t conspiring in various permutations and with miscellaneous motivations to do her in. Fenech wasn’t available (probably knocking out a few period sex farces) for Martino’s second giallo of 1971, The Case Of The Scorpion’s Tail, which ran along disappointingly formulaic lines and proved conclusively that Anita Strindberg and Evelyn Stewart together couldn’t make up for the absence of one Edwige Fenech.

81-bSWgp+-L._SL1500_

Thankfully she was back for the following year’s All The Colours Of The Dark aka Day Of The Maniac / They’re Coming To Get You / Strange Vice Of Mrs Wardh Part 2, et al, in which Martino would extend the giallo’s frontiers exponentially. Fenech’s Jayne Harrison in this one is even more screwed up than the spoiled Mrs Wardh and with considerably more justification. Cooped up in Kenilworth Court, Putney, she’s suffering post traumatic stress disorder following the car crash in which she lost her baby (and it’s only later that we learn that she witnessed the fatal stabbing of her mother when she was seven) but gets precious little emotional support from her cold fish, workaholic pharmaceutical salesman boyfriend Richard (George Hilton). He obstructs her sister Barbara (“Susan Scott” / Nieves Navarro)’s efforts to set Jayne up with a psychoanalyst, insisting that she just pull herself together and keep taking the tablets (… but are they, as claimed, just vitamins?) Jayne is plagued by nightmares in which her various traumas are juxtaposed with all manner of Satanic psychedelia (good news for us because she tends to get over them by taking a shower in her nightshift… woah, baby!) and things go from bad to worse when a guy who resembles the assassin from her dreams (Ivan Rassimov, looking even more striking than usual in a pair of shocking blue contact lenses) starts stalking her. Her chic new neighbour, Mary (Marina Malfatti), waxes blasé about this (“Strange men have been following women since the stone age, Jayne!”) but does propose a novel solution to our heroine’s malaise, i.e. that she attend a black mass (?!?) Although much has made up to this point of Jayne’s indecisive character, by a flick of scripter Ernesto Gastaldi’s pen she decides there and then that she wants to participate in precisely such a shindig RIGHT NOW!

TCTGU.jpg

“Chill-O-Rama”, huh?

In a gothic folly that will be only too familiar to fans of Toyah Wilcox’s The Blue Meaning album, Jayne gets down with the Satan worshipping junky set (I think this is what we’re supposed to infer from the calamine lotion daubed liberally over their faces) and during a Rosemary’s Baby-inspired scene, is taken (to the accompaniment of Bruno Nicolai’s ravished acid rock theme) by cult honcho J.P. McBrian (Julian Ugarte from Paul Naschy’s breakthrough picture Mark Of The Wolfman, 1968). Now “J.P McBrian” might strike you as a disappointingly pedestrian moniker for a Satanic cult leader, but he’s knobbing Edwige Fenech so the dude’s doing alright for himself, OK?

Far from her being mitigated by these occult dabblings, Jayne’s problems are exacerbated when, at a subsequent ritual orgy, she is implicated in the killing of Mary, who had apparently grown terminally jaded about life and delivered Jayne to the sect as her replacement. I love the way the Satanic acolytes shuffle round each other in a little dance routine while all this is going on. Now Jayne’s stalker (Rassimov) reveals himself as “Mark Cogan”, the murderer and former lover of her mother, who had been an enthusiastic participant in all these occult shenanigans (foreshadowing a plot point in Argento’s Opera)… “Now you’re one of us, Jayne…” he glowers: “It’s impossible to renounce us!”

Todos.jpg

The plot descends into pure paranoia at this point, with the news that McBrain is a Big Cheese at Scotland Yard, though this is immediately revealed as a figment of Jayne’s increasingly traumatised, drug-addled and brain-washed imagination (check out the totally surreal “breakfast with dead people” vignette… did it really happen?) Turns out that significant characters have been motivated by all-too materialistic considerations (i.e. an inheritance) but, at the very death, Martino can’t bring himself to impose a purely logical wrap-up on the narrative. Once the mandatory shop window mannequin has been chucked off a roof, Fenech’s final (and almost certainly post-synched) lines, delivered with her face turned away from the camera, indicate that genuine psychic forces are awakening within her, an awakening which is going to either empower or destroy her… or is this is just one more level of delusion? ATCOTD’s ambiguous and haunting conclusion ensures that the viewer will keep turning the film over in his / her own mind after watching it, like a nightmare from which (s)he is struggling to wake. An inveterate mix’n’matcher of genres, Martino set the ball rolling here for a synthesis of straight giallo and the supernatural that would be handled to more influential effect by Dario Argento just a few years later…

812p7-gO1iL._SL1500_.jpg

If you think you’ve read something very like the above review on this site before, congratulations on a) your excellent taste in blogs and b) being such an attentive, retentive reader. The first time we ran Sergio Martino’s occult giallo past the viewing panel here at HOF it was on the German Marketing-Film DVD, which occasioned a certain amount of moaning about its not-exactly anamorphic presentation and the fact that its 5.1 option was only available on the German language sound track… foreskin durch technik, indeed. The Shameless BD fits our TV screen much more agreeably, albeit with no Surround option whatsoever (though Nicolai’s black music theme still lit up our left and right frontal speakers, not to mention our Woofer, to diverting effect.) The digital upscale significantly enhances the beauty and subtlety of Giancarlo Ferrando’s cinematography, while noticeably boosting the graininess of certain passages… ah well, to quote an irate French chef from a P.G Wodehouse story, I can take a few roughs with a smooth and if you’ve had the Marketing-Film edition on your shelf for a few years now, you’ll certainly be wanting to upgrade to this.

71X-WLqhNlL._SL1031_.jpg

Extras include a bunch of trailers for Fenech / Martino oriented Shameless releases and Doors, a spooky (and apparently prize-winning) short by Michele De Angelis. Hi, Michele! There’s a new interview with the ever-affable Martino, in which he sings the praises of his regular repertory players (“If you’ve got a winning team, why change it?”) and recalls the memorable occasion of his first meeting with Edwige Fenech, apparently resplendent in leather trousers (and looking far more fetching in those, one imagines, than Theresa “Mock Turtle” May ever managed to.) Once again, Sergio assures us that he felt no disappointment when the divine Fenech took up with his brother Luciano (yeah, whatever) and acknowledges the passionate devotion of giallo fans. He describes how the process ATCOTD was shot in led to framing problems and recalls that ten minutes were cut out of the film’s tricky climax when it played in Roman cinemas. Most amusingly, he opines that when snooty critics condescendingly refer to him as a craftsman, it makes him “feel like a carpenter.” Undeniably though, such moments in ATCOTD as the Lewtonesque “bus shot” (actually a “black cab shot”) are, er, very well crafted…

819MEcr2+jL._SL1500_.jpg

It’s always a pleasure to hear the thoughts of Diabolique magazine mainstays Kat Ellinger and Samm Deighan, who contribute a characteristically enthusiastic and knowledgable commentary track here. Their excitement about contributing to a Blu-ray edition of what is clearly one of their favourite films (and why wouldn’t it be?) registers almost palpably. While ATCOTD, for all its manifest merits, is thematically skinnier than e.g. Borowczyk’s The Story Of Sin (for which the Diaboliquel duo contributed an exemplary voice over to Arrow’s release), this disc is all the better for their efforts and yes, Kat does get to vent her ongoing obsession with Mathew Lewis’s The Monk. Hey, why not pick up a copy of that Gothic classic, stick some Bruno Nicolai on your stereo as you leaf through it and knock back a glass or two of absinthe while you’re doing so? Go on, you’ve earned it!

BLADE-OF-THE-RIPPERasdfghbj.jpg

Say what the fuck?!?

Tutti.jpg

Categories: Blu-ray / DVD Reviews | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dolly Birds Of Ill Omen… Edwige Fenech in Andrea Bianchi’s STRIP NUDE FOR YOUR KILLER, Reviewed

stripnakedfor.jpg

sn4yk-detective-magda1.jpg

“Elementary, my dear Edwige!”

DVD. Region 0. Shameless. 18.

Having graced the gialli of such luminaries as Mario Bava, Sergio Martino and, er, Giuliano Carnimeo, the lustrous Edwige Fenech concentrated increasingly on her persona as the Queen of “Sexy Comedies” as the ’70s wore on. In 1975 she deigned to appear in one last theatrical giallo (she did collaborate with Martino on several slick TV thrillers from the ’90s onwards) though she was hardly tempted back by a prestige production. Strip Nude For Your Killer, directed by sleaze specialist Andrea Bianchi in 1975, is not the scuzziest Italian slasher ever lensed (that accolade must surely go to Giallo In Venice, directed by Bianchi associate Mario Landi in 1979), nor even the most floridly titled Italian thriller (step forward Roberto Montero’s The Slasher Is A Sex Maniac, 1972)… it’s not even its director’s wildest screen offering (gotta be Burial Ground / Nights Of Terror, the cheesy 1981 zombie movie with added incest subplot) but nobody could deny Bianchi’s willingness to go that extra mile in living up to its lowest common denominator handle, marrying schlock horror with sleazy sex to hypnotically delirious effect in a down market, glamour-modelling milieu that could never be confused with the genre haute couture slaughter of Bava’s seminal Blood And Black Lace (1964.)

StripNude001.jpg

Magda (Fenech) is a top photographer at Milan’s Albatross modelling agency, but would like to take up modelling herself. Studio manager Carlo (Nino Castelnuovo, which translates roughly as “Kid Newcastle”!) turns her down on the grounds that she’ll “have a more secure career behind the camera” or some such nonsense. Credibility flies out of the window at the suggestion that any self-respecting model agency would turn down Edwige Fenech… I mean, in what universe?!? Sure, she’s had most of her luscious raven locks lopped off for this one, but the unflattering crop some stylist has imposed upon her can’t detract from the rest of her legendary charms, which are amply showcased throughout in a series of costume changes that are highly contrived even by the gratuitous standards previously set by Fenech’s bootylicious body of work. Political correctness soon follows credibility out of that window as Magda attempts to change Carlo’s mind with a quick blow job (“You said a mouthful” leers Carlo, while she pleasures him.)

stripnudeforyourkiller.jpg

No Ernesto Gastaldi here, but scripter Massimo Felisatti (who allegedly insisted on Bianchi taking a fictitious co-writing credit so that he could share the blame!) keeps the mechanical plot on track as a series of murders decimates the staff of the appropriately named Agency. Who is the athletic, biker-garbed (though car-travelling) assassin that’s bumping off the agency folks and hacking off their body parts? Well, it sure ain’t Eddie Kidd!

strip-nude-for-your-killer-poster.jpg

To find out the truth the viewer must run a grungy gauntlet comprising gory murder and mutilation, incest, casual sauna sex, lesbianism, anal rape played for laughs and a fat, sweaty guy getting it on with his blow up doll… thankfully he leaves his nappy-like pants on for his killer, and there’s abundant and more pleasing exposure from such genre stalwarts as Femi Benussi and Erna Schurer. Plenty there to “get your corpsuckles going”, to paraphrase another of Carlo’s insufferable would-be witticisms.

Strip nude for your Killer 048.jpg

The killer’s identity and motivation are wrapped up with a botched abortion (as in Massimo Dallamano’s 1971 effort, What Have You Done To Solange?) but award yourself a couple of bonus points if you anticipated the kinky twist by which the killer has been avenging the surgical death of her sister… who just happened to be her lover, too! (Jaded as I am, even I didn’t see that one coming…)

CvhVloBWEAEjwgc.jpg

Strip Nude is undoubtedly, as promised in the liner notes of an earlier, Blue Underground release: “sleazy, nudity-filled gore a go-go giallo fun… that delivers wave after wave of guilty exploitation pleasure”! Berto Pisano’s cheesy score serves as the perfect accompaniment to what is undoubtedly a great trash treat, if not a great giallo. Just imagine, for example, what Dario Argento could have done with the scene in which Magda is menaced in the darkened photo studio… having said that, Argento did pinch the Strip Nude plot point by which the killer can only do their murderous stuff to the accompaniment of the sound of running water, for his misfiring 1993 stab at the American mainstream, Trauma. SNFYK’s dress code departure, kitting out the culprit in biker leathers, has also exerted a clear influence on Ken Hughes’ crypto giallo and official “video nasty”, Terror Eyes. Admirably encapsulated by another quote from the sleeve of that BU edition, Strip Nude is undoubtedly “ultra trashy fun!”… with knobs on! Indeed, I could have done without the near subliminal (but not quite subliminal enough) glimpses of Castelnuovo’s junk. Was Fenech suffering cash flow problems when she signed on for this one? The indignity of the film’s freeze frame ending (reflecting on the perils of unwanted pregnancy, so graphically spelled out in the preceding 90 minutes, Carlo announces that “it’s better not to take any risks” and, as Fenech struggles, attempts a forceful back door entry!) seems to have made her mind up and hereafter she would appear in no more cinematic gialli (unless you really stretch a point and include Ruggero Deodato’s 1988 “old age creeping up on you” horror effort, Off Balance / Phantom Of Death… but we won’t).

Categories: Blu-ray / DVD Reviews | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Everybody Bleeds Good Neighbours… Edwige Fenech in WHY ARE THOSE STRANGE DROPS OF BLOOD ON THE BODY OF JENNIFER?

f802cbeb84cfa1ddcccbdca952e63cd3-1.jpgwhy-these-dreops.jpg

DVD. Region Free. Anchor Bay. Not Rated.

While Sergio Martino was more concerned in the early ’70s with extending the scope of the giallo than with merely aping Argento or churning out rehashes of his own The Strange Vice Of Mrs Wardh (1971), any such rehash would have had an understandable commercial appeal to his big brother. Hence “Anthony Ascott” (Giuliano Carnimeo)’s Why These Strange Drops Of Blood On The Body Of Jennifer? (“Perché Quelle Strane Gocce Di Sangue Sul Corpo Di Jennifer?), produced by Luciano in 1972 and also known as The Case Of The Bloody Iris or (for its UK grindhouse release) Erotic Blue… certainly not to be confused with the Megan Fox vehicle Jennifer’s Body (2009.) As usual, this one could usefully come with a score-card to help the viewer keep up with its convoluted plot, as prolific giallo scripter Ernesto Gastaldi packs a string of nubile psycho fodder in all their funky ’70s finery and a veritable shoal of red herrings onto photo model Jennifer (Edwige Fenech)’s floor of a swish Genoan apartment building. Who’s cutting this collection of cuties off in their respective primes? Difficult to say, as the culprit wears standard issue black leather trench coat, broad-brimmed hat and stocking mask (but disappointingly eschews the expected black gloves in favour of a pair of marigolds!)

images.jpg

The cast of candidates comprises suspiciously smooth architect George Hilton; a predatory lipstick lesbian (Lana Del Rey lookalike Annabella Incontrera) who’s predictably hot for Fenech’s bod; her disapproving, grumpy father; a nosey-parker old crone who’s keeping tabs on everybody else in the building; and her secret, scarred son, who is presented as obvious psycho-killer material because of his addiction to lurid horror comics (an imprudent tack to take in a lurid horror film, one would have thought)…

caseofbli20.jpg

… dodgiest of all is Fenech’s ex Adam (Ben Carra), who’s stalking her, sending her irises and generally trying to lure her back into her former drug-crazed swinging lifestyle. Gastaldi’s script explicitly states that Fenech’s Jennifer is NOT a masochist and, in another departure from TSVOMW, her ex used to shower her with iris petals rather than shards of glass, but he talks a mean fight:”I’ll tear you as I tore the petals of the iris… you’re an object and you belong to me… since our celestial marriage you’ve belonged to me!”, he rants (yeah, yeah, whatever)…. all of which understandably reduces Fenech to a nervous wreck, though her airhead flat-mate Marilyn (Paola Quattrini) is keener to attribute her agitated state to sexual frustration. “You made a big mistake, going from group sex to chastity” she advises, urging Jennifer to let her hair down a little, not to mention her drawers.

case-of-the-bloody-iris-edwige-fenech-sheer-top.jpg

So many private hells congealing into a collective one under one roof that you begin to suspect this particular apartment block (an even less Des Res than All The Colours Of The Dark‘s Kenilworth Court) must have been built over one of Lucio Fulci’s cherished doors to Hades…

The Case of the Bloody Iris 012.jpg

The mandatory clueless cops (an inspector who’s more interested in collecting stamps than cracking the case, and his long-suffering side-kick, who seems to have wandered in from a sexy-comedy) persuade the reluctant Jennifer and Marilyn to stay in their apartment in a high risk strategy designed to flush out the killer (leaving them with the helpful advice: “Don’t trust any of your neighbours!”) as the bodies and improbable plot convolutions proliferate all around them. One memorably barmy scene occurs in a night-club run by cameoing “Allan Collins” (Luciano Pigozzi), where the floor show consists of an athletic black chick (Carla Brait) challenging horny audience members to get her clothes off in three minutes, while she’s beating them up (no, really!) This character’s later bath-tub demise is modelled upon one in the mother of all “imperilled models” gialli, Bava’s Blood And Black Lace (1964). Elsewhere an attack on a girl while she’s pulling a garment over her head and a public stabbing in broad daylight anticipate sequences in Argento’s Tenebrae (1982), and an elevator slashing is every bit as clearly the inspiration for one in Brian De Palma’s Dressed To Kill (1980) as the power-tool slaying in Umberto Lenzi’s Seven Orchids Stained In Red (1972) was for the one in De Palma’s Body Double (1984.) What, in the sacred name of Rachel De Thame, is this obsession with bloody petals?

the-case-of-the-bloody-iris-002.jpg

Carnimeo adroitly keeps the viewer’s suspicion alternating around his collection of ne’er do wells, with Hilton (in yet another movie where he gets paid for snogging Fenech… spawny bastard!) ostentatiously flagged as prime suspect, despite his professed haemophobia. Predictably, things are even more complicated than they appear, the true culprit’s puritanical motivation getting the customary curt airing before his / her equally
obligatory dispatch by being chucked down a stair well. Carnimeo also manages to work a Spellbound-type cathartic liberation for one of the main characters into this boffo denouement. DP Stelvio Massi and sound track composer Bruno Nicolai perform their respective chores with accustomed panache (though Nicolai’s music is perhaps among the least compelling of his many contributions to the genre) and assistant director Michele
Massimo Tarantini (the Martinos’ cousin) would later call the shots in various of Fenech’s uniformed comic escapades.

elevator-trio.jpg

One could quibble about the feasibility of Rait’s ludicrous night-club act and the quality of some of the performances (the residents look bored to tears rather than shocked by the discovery of a diced dolly bird in their elevator, above) but if you’re prepared to suspend your disbelief, this is one of the giallo genre’s most pleasantly time passing guilty pleasures.

Bonus materials on the Anchor Bay disc under review here comprise a trailer, “Anthony Ascott” filmography and an alternative take of the scene in which a blonde model is stabbed in the street and falls, dying, into the arms of George Hilton.

35-Edwige-Fenech-Case-of-the-Bloody-Iris-560x350.jpg2010112221252690149_supersize.jpgcase-of-the-bloody-iris2-300px

Categories: Blu-ray / DVD Reviews | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Happy Birthday, Sweet Freudstein (With Big Thanks To Irene…)… THE 1st HOUSE OF FREUDSTEIN ANNUAL REPORT

Dr.freudstein.jpg

It’s turned into the purtiest Blog you’ve ever seen… and just a year old, today!

In the latter part of 2015 I was already doing a music blog, the now defunct Boot Room Of Ozymandias. Only available to a small circle of fellow Prog Rock enthusiasts, it was, frankly, a bit crap. It did, however, afford me the opportunity to learn the tricks of the blogger’s trade while dropping most of my clangers away from the public gaze.

The yen to do a film blog was kindled in me by none other than Irene Miracle. The lovely and talented star of Inferno, Night Train Murders et al was well chuffed with the interview we’d done (which appeared in issue #167 of Dark Side magazine) and wondered if there was any chance of getting it on-line. Her admirers around the world (particularly her fanatical Japanese following) would just lap it up, she assured me. I asked DS editor Allan Bryce if he would consider running this piece on the web site of his august organ but at the time he was experiencing some problems in that department and about to change web master. When I mentioned this to Irene, she asked me why I didn’t consider setting up my own film blog. Why not indeed…

At the end of 2015 I closed The Boot Room (though that re-emerged, mutated and upgraded, as http://www.theozymandiasprogject.wordpress.com in May 2016… I wish I could devote enough time to making that as it good as it should be but hey, I’ve only got one pair of hands and 24 hours in a day) and on 01.01.16 officially launched http://www.houseoffreudstein.wordpress.com upon an unsuspecting world, leading off with the aforementioned Irene Miracle interview. She wasn’t bullshitting about how well it would go, either. A year on, she’s still fighting it out with David Warbeck for the laurel of most-visited posting and yes, many of the days on which she’s scored particularly strongly seem to coincide with days when we’ve had a lot of Japanese visitors. A woman of indisputable discernment, here’s wishing Irene every success with the various projects she has in development, notably Bangkok Hardtime.

infernobdcap1_original.jpg

(http://www.dawnland-movie.com/ChangelingTheMovie/IreneMiracle)

Me Me Lay (or Lai, depending on what source you consult) grabs the bronze, unexpectedly (to me, anyway) relegating Lucio Fulci to fourth place and our look at Soledad Miranda on Severin BDs registered as the fifth biggest draw for most of our first year. Any Severin coverage tends to generate a strong response, actually and their Barbara Steele triple bill BD leap frogged Ms Miranda on the day of La Steele’s birthday, 29.12.16. Soledad certainly did her ratings no harm at all by the imperious manner in which she shrugged her kit off in the gif we used to advertise that posting on social media. Oh go on then, here it is again…

nzkvz8z.gif

Our Top 10 postings for 2016 are rounded out by Torso (anything Martino and / or Fenech related seems to be well received), our survey of Italian Exorcist knock-offs and two more Severin releases. Gregory and Daft’s brain-boggling Zombi Holocaust / Doctor Butcher set narrowly edged out their Burial Ground for both the number 9 spot and our pick as HOF Release Of The Year.

000butcherbarfbag.jpg

This just in from our medical correspondent… Butcher stuffs Strange!

You’ll be seeing a lot more of that kind of stuff in 2017… I can take a hint, you know! In the meantime it would be nice if some of our less favoured postings started to pick up a few viewings in the New Year… I was particularly pleased with my breezy account of the Freudstein family cinema outing to check out Doctor Strange (this at the behest of my rabidly Cumberbitch daughter)… currently residing at the very bottom of our chart!

Despite the odd minor disappointment it’s been a good year,  in which we’ve made a lot of new cyber friends (and even met some of them) and had rather a jolly time e.g. celebrating the month of Scalarama, reporting from Nottingham’s spiffing Mayhem Film Festival and mounting well received Weekenders devoted to Paul Naschy, David Warbeck and Sergio Martino (with preparations for new ones in 2017 already underway.) We’ve scoured every corner of the globe for cinematic treats ranging from the Art House (The Quay Brothers) to the outhouse (Jesus Franco), from gothique Italian horrors of the ’60s to contemporary releases like Attack Of The Lederhosen Zombies and leavened the mix with such occasional mainstream / big budget efforts as the aforementioned underperforming Doctor Strange. We try to cater for all tastes here at The House Of Freudstein…

… which means that in 2017, among more weekenders, major interviews, reports and reviews we’ll be hoping to cover a lot of stuff we haven’t really touched on in our first year… a few Spaghetti Westerns wouldn’t hurt… and  Poliziotteschi… yeah, you can expect a tidal wave of Crime Slime any time soon.

In the meantime, thanks for your support and Happy New Year from we Freudsteins…

tvpzhxmqvozknx6e2re6no0vlvbbjrkur1byvlcaxsc.jpg

Thanks, Pal!

Categories: Features | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Lovelock Lies Limp… Edwige Fenech in THE VIRGIN WIFE

valentina-movie-poster-1978-1020205099.jpgTHE VIRGIN WIFE / “LA MOGLIE VERGINE” aka VALENTINA – THE VIRGIN WIFE, YOU’VE GOT TO HAVE HEART and AT LAST, AT LAST (1975)

Directed by “Franco Martinelli” (Marino Girolami).
Produced by Edmondo Amati.
Written by Marino Girolami & Carlo Veo.
Cinematography by Fausto Zuccoli.
Music by Armando Trovajoli.
Starring: Edwige Fenech, Ray Lovelock, Renzo Montagnani, Carrol Baker, Gabriella Giorgelli.

“What’s eating you” Ray Lovelock asks Edwige Fenech at one point in this picture. Not him, apparently. C’mon Ray, get down and get down to it… today is La Fenech’s birthday! (It’s rather a special occasion for everybody here at The House Of Freudstein, too… our 100th posting in this, our first year of blogging!)

Valentina Virgin Wife Edwige Fenech 02.jpg

If Lovelock’s career reached its zenith in Jorge Grau’s sublime Living Dead At The Manchester Morgue (1974), its nadir can surely be fixed in this fitful, unfunny effort by Marino Girolami (Enzo Castellari’s dad and director of Zombi Holocaust.) The Virgin Wife is a variation on Ray Boulting’s The Family Way (1966) done as Sexy-Comedy all’Italiana and comes as an overdue opportunity to probe the link between Italian machismo and mama-worship, in which we’re supposed to believe that ol’ Ray (as “Giovanni”) can’t bring himself to consummate his marriage with the truly   (“Valentina”), despite the encouragement of lecherous old Uncle Fred (Renzo Montagnani, he of the ever-popular catch-phrase “Oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy!”) Priapismic Fred likens his own unbridled manhood to “an Olympic torch burning a hole in my breeches”, simultaneously complaining that “My nephew’s got a limp sardine in his pants!”

gra0563.jpg

“Oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy!”

Bottles of schnapps, red hot chillies in the minestrone, “bull’s hormones” and the contagious eroticism of cousin Gianfranco (Michele Gammino, an astonishing Peter Sutcliffe lookalike) and his nymphomaniac French girlfriend Brigitte (Florence Barnes), much addicted as she is to nibbling sensually on bananas, the ministrations of Maria the naughty maid… even Fenech’s restaging of Sophia Loren’s strip for poor old Marcello Mastroianni in Ieri, Oggi E Domani… all of these attempted remedies, and more, fail to get lovelorn Lovelock’s limp dick rising to the occasion (don’t forget, all of this took place in the days before Viagra.)

01458702.jpg

Nature abhorring a vacuum, Fenech is soon on the receiving end of Sapphic overtures from Brigitte (“Your skin is fantasteek… eet must drarve your ‘usband warld! Your breasts are magnifique… lark a marble statue!”) as well as warding off the unwanted overtures of a smarmy family lawyer who’s trying to get into her briefs.  At one point Fenech is driven to take herself in hand, fantasising about Lovelock in a Superman costume… a virile horse also features in this dream sequence, so it’s probably just as well that Girolami rather than Joe D’Amato directed the picture!

lEoj4iTw8dxX705u0VJaKbCT2ko.jpg

Any scant sympathy one might have felt for Lovelock’s plight, even after the realisation that it’s him croaking the godawful theme-song to this film (one section of the lyrics sounds horribly like: “Teek-tock, the time goes on / Teek-tock, my love has gone / Teek-tock, my goat goes on without you here”) flies right out of the window when the root of this Oedipus wreck’s trouble is revealed as a fixation on his mother-in-law, played by the matronly Carroll Baker. Distraught, Fenech runs off during a downpour and is discovered and deflowered by a member of a nudist colony (“They’re Americans – they like to do that sort of thing!”) Lovelock and Baker, searching for her, are themselves obliged to take shelter in a derelict building, where they make out  while Lovelock weeps and wails: “I want my Mama”, setting a new low for unwholesome Mommy love that would stand for several years, until Peter Bark and Marianga Girodano’s gob-smacking shenanigans in Andrea Bianchi’s Burial Ground (1981.)

maxresdefaultcv b.jpg

The unhappy family come to an awkward modus vivendi in an unexpectedly downbeat ending for such a frothy piece (something Hollywood took years to work up the courage to do – remember the fuss that was made over War Of The Roses?) Otherwise, this is typical and typically broad Italian comedy, complete with its groan-inducing compliment of double-entendres. Unfortunately Fenech’s oft noted comedic talents are severely compromised, in the British VPD video release, by the clumsy translation and disastrous dubbing of her waspish asides.

Trivia note – when the family doctor “tests” Giovanni for homosexuality, he does it by showing him pictures of a (then) little-known body-builder… yep, it’s Arnold Schwarzennegger!

640full-valentina--the-virgin-wife-screenshot.jpgq8ven1jdRy4hqMe7eQqnnUjRyXZ.jpg

Valentina Virgin Wife Edwige Fenech 04.jpg

“Stop me if you’ve heard this before… oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy!”

Categories: Film Reviews | Tags: , , | 1 Comment

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: