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Shadow of Death (1969)

28/2/2024

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This  Spanish-Italian co-production takes its lead from the Umberto Lenzi-style inheritance gialli (and, therefore, Les Diaboliques), with the black-gloved, black-hatted and black-coated character accordingly being a blackmailer, not a murderer. 

Said blackmailer, Gert Mueller (whose identity is never obfuscated), drives to a small Spanish town to call on his ex-girlfriend, a former showgirl called Denise. His appeals for financial assistance are rejected out of hand, but he lands on a trump card when he discovers that Denise is having a secret affair with Peter, the twin of John, her husband. Gert attempts to turn this knowledge into cold hard cash via the medium of blackmail, only for the adulterous lovers to take advantage of the crisitunity, setting their own fiendish plot in motion  with the aim of turning John mental and getting their hands on his vast fortune.

I should add that the reason the lovers can't just kill off John is because he's cut them out of his will, presumably having suspected that something was afoot. The exact details of their plan are vague, in that the means by which they intend to take control of John's fortune are never fully specified (presumably they hoped to assume Power of Attorney with John being confined to either a mental hospital or prison). A much simpler plan would be to kill John, and to pass the corpse off as Peter, who would then pretend to be John (trust me, that is a lot simpler than what plays out on screen). Of course, Gert would still have to be taken care of, but as long as he doesn't find out that John's dead he wouldn't pose much of a threat, as his threats to reveal the affair to John  would be weightless, given John would be Peter (again, less confusing than the film). Even if Gert did find out the truth, he could just be murdered, and the body count would be no greater than what we end up with on screen.

But enough of what might have been (and I'll readily concede that the plot I've proffered above would make for a far more boring film). What is, is a fairly entertaining little number, which smacks of a few broad ideas which weren't quite developed sufficiently.  The set-up (a blackmailer gives an adulterous couple an opportunity to dispose of an unwanted husband/brother) is fine, but there are more than a few instances where  the lines joining the narrative dots are a little bit vague/unrealistic, which suggests to me that the script's first draft may have been rushed into production. When I'm writing, I tend to have a fairly tight handle on the overarching structure, and several key scenes/points, but the technicalities of getting from point A to point B are often something I gloss over initially, the idea being that it's better to complete a full first draft which can then be polished than to get tied up in minutiae and lose whatever passes for momentum in writing. Here, there's definitely a sense that the plot was constructed around a few key ideas, but the linking thread is extremely flimsy, and some pretty big liberties are taken with plausibility. 

In particular, there are two instances which defy logic, or at least push the boundaries of realism. These deux Deus Ex Machinas involve a Mission Impossible-style mask which is worn by two characters (having apparently survived fully intact after being ripped from the face of the first one to sport it), and a strange process of hypno-suggestion, whereby false memories seem to be implanted in one character's subconsciousness via an ESP  dialogue.

This latter process, which (and I don't think any readers will be shocked at this revelation) forms a crucial part of the scheming lovers' manipulation of John, is an especially confusing section of the film. John is kept heavily sedated - so far so good - and Peter seems to be able to communicate with him on an extrasensory, non-verbal plane (so far, less good). Somehow, he's able to convey the details of a series of things he's done whilst posing as his twin, so that John, when he comes out of his drug-induced haze, believes them to be his own memories. Other gialli (Nothing Underneath in particular) make dubious use of a supposed psychic link between twins, but there's no specific reference made here to the process by which Peter transfers the memories - it just seems to be a loose, undefined mix of drugs and twins.

*something about twin evils, drugs and greed?*

Even though John is the chief 'victim' here (apart from the people who die), he's not an overly sympathetic character, although his baffling eagerness to confess his alleged crimes to all and sundry (his doctor, the police, anyone willing to listen to him) is quirkily endearing. At least, it's endearing on one level, but on another, structural, level it's really just a narrative device to keep the film moving along - rather than the police taking time to track John down upon discovering evidence of a crime, which would be the usual practice, he speeds things up by presenting himself to them as a sacrificial lamb. There are other inconsistencies/lapses in logic, which again are designed to keep the film ticking along, and to buttress the atmosphere of mystery and confusion: why do the lights in the girl's apartment work perfectly all of a sudden? Why is the girl let go free? And why doesn't she take a leaf from John's book and go straight to the police when she is freed?

This is far from the only giallo which doesn't hold up to a close plot scrutiny, but it doesn't really hold up to any cursory examination whatsoever. The funny thing is that for the first hour or so there's no real mystery at play - we see the identity of the blackmailer from the off; we are aware of the affair right away; we know that the lovers are scheming to turn John insane and consequently take control of his money. It's just as well that the twists take a while in coming though, as keeping track of the John/Peter baiting and switching is challenge enough.

Overall, this isn't a classic, but it's a decent alternative to the sunnier Lenzi-type films which were coming out of Italy at the time. The acting is good, the music (rumoured to have been done by Morricone on the QT, but crdited to Franco Micalizzi) is solid (although there seems to be an attempt to imbue a recurring motif with hidden meaning which doesn't really work), and the cinematography is excellent. If you can overlook the occasional fudging of logic, and keep up with who's who and what's what, then there's much to enjoy here for fans of less murder-by-numbers gialli.
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Deadly Inheritance (1968)

9/2/2024

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A cheap and cheerful early example of the filone, this is one of the gialli which took its cue from Blood and Black Lace, with the plot centring on greed and inheritance. It's also one of the very first rural-set gialli, something which was probably a cost-saving measure more than anything else (the fact that the inheritance in question amounts to around £150,000 in today's money kind of sums up the limited ambitions and means of the film).

Failing to hear an approaching train, an old, deaf railroad crossing guard is killed whilst unenthusiastically swinging a pickaxe towards some stones (props for the shots which frame both him and the approaching train by the way, the ballsiness of which make up for the credits sequence containing the drabbest cinematography of all time). Initially thought of as a tragic accident, when it emerges that the guard had amassed a small (this being the operative word) fortune by playing stocks, and when his adopted son Janot quickly dies in another apparent accident, it seems that his heirs are engaged in a deadly battle to secure his inheritance. Will Inspector Greville, a horrendously-toupéed Inspector sent from the Big City to investigate, be able to prevent more the killer taking more scalps? Or, will the hair-raising slaughter wig him out? There'll be hell toupée if he doesn't succeed! Etc, etc.

I've actually already, in those opening two paragraphs, addressed the bulk of the viewing notes I took - this is an enjoyable yet extremely disposable film. The French setting is delightfully quaint, and the cinematography, while rough and ready, can't really go far wrong given the beautiful countryside setting (an Italian setting in reality, apparently). Even the shabby interiors have a kind of charm, and do add verisimilitude - rural French villages wouldn't have been home to many slick, spick and span apartments. There is one terrific example of such a location; the residence of the local playboy who owns the discotheque (and whose idea of décor is horrendous stripy wallpaper and some nudie magazine cut outs stuck on a mirror). 

The plot is reasonably tight, albeit the lack of a clearly-defined lead character does hurt it somewhat - we're presented with a load of people who occasionally act in a suspicious manner before being summarily dispatched in reasonably inventive ways (and one non-death fight scene is particularly inventive, as it involves a man being somehow savagely beaten with a towel). No-one is presented as being conclusively innocent, so we're limited to being curious observers rather than having any real investment in the fates of the characters.

The end revelations do make sense, just about, although there are too many collaborators for the explanation to be in any way believable. One of the characters' real identity, especially, is very much out of left-field, and while they don't necessarily do anything which definitively makes no sense, some of the things they've said over the course of the film do sail quite close to the wind (specifically, expressing doubts regarding the seeming resolution of the case needlessly invites further scrutiny). But, then again, it could be argued that it's what the character might be expected to say in the circumstances, had they not been knee-deep in deceit.

There's not a whole else to say about the film, really - I watched eight years after my first viewing in order to write this review, and my main memories of it were a) that it contained a ginger character (surely either Ernesto Colli or Bruno Corazzari [the former, as it turns out]) and b) there are train tracks. When the memory of this second viewing fades, I may also remember some truly fascinating dancing from the disco scene, a lot of incidental 'characters' staring curiously down the camera lens, and the one way in which it may have had a huge influence on American slasher films: having a forty year old (OK, a balding 28 year old who looks forty) playing a teenager. So, while it won't be troubling anyone's rankings of top tier gialli, it's fun, disposable fluff, which achieves more on a clearly limited budget than many other films manage with far more resources.
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    Dáire McNab

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