‘Tell me about yourself; do you like engineering?’
A jazz pianist witnesses a murder, but the perpetrator escapes. Afterwards, he struggles to recall one small detail that will reveal the killer’s identity…
Classic Giallo horror mystery from writer-director Dario Argento. David Hemmings and Daria Nicolodi try to untangle the clues before they end up on the list of the killer’s victims.
Psychic Helga Ulmann (Macha Méril) has been living in Rome for some months as the protege of Professor Giordani (Glauco Mauri). Along with academic and clairvoyant Bardi (Piero Mazzinghi), he sponsors her lecture at a local theatre. At first, this demonstration of her abilities is a success, but then her mind encounters the murderous thoughts of one of the audience. This mental connection furnishes information about a past crime, but before Méril can commit her thoughts to paper, she is brutally slaughtered. Witnessing the murder from outside her apartment, pianist Marc Daly (David Hemmings) rushes inside to help but is only in time to find the body and see a figure in a brown raincoat leaving the scene.
Later, Hemmings becomes convinced that he saw something at the scene, a small detail that would uncover the killer’s identity. Unfortunately, he can’t put his finger on what it was; it’s just a vague impression. Teaming up with single-minded journalist Gianna Brezzi (Nicolodi), he decides to investigate, questioning his best friend Carlo (Gabriele Lavia), who he left drunk outside a bar moments before the murder. The trail leads to Amanda Righetti (Giuliana Calandra) and her book of urban ghost stories. Before she can supply any helpful information, she is murdered, and Hemmings is tagged as a likely suspect in the eyes of the police.
After the critical and commercial failure of his historical comedy-drama ‘The Five Days/Le cinque giornate’ (1973), it’s hardly surprising that filmmaker Dario Argento returned to the relative safety of the Giallo. This unique branch of Italian horror mysteries had launched his career, and, for better or worse, his onscreen appearances as host of the television show ‘Door Into Darkness/La porta sul buio’ (1973) had helped cement that association in the Italian public’s mind. The publicity campaign for the film was centred around his return to the Giallo, and, fortunately, the director responded with his most intriguing and complex film to date. It was also a significant box office hit, domestically and on the international market, and has come to be regarded as a classic of its kind.
Although it seems too obvious to begin with the film’s technical aspects, it isn’t easy to start anywhere else. Argento’s film is often a visual tour de force with tightly choreographed, inventive camera movement, gorgeous cinematography from Luigi Kuveiller and stunning shot compositions. The locations, particularly the old mansion, are an eerily beautiful backdrop to the unfolding mystery, and the interiors display an almost obsessive attention to detail. The hallway decor of Méril’s apartment may be absurdly extravagant, but it’s of a piece with the film’s striking overall design and feel. Director Mario Bava was known for personally selecting props and placing them on his sets, and it’s not unreasonable to suggest that Argento followed that practice, although serious credit needs to go to production designer Giuseppe Bassan and set decorator Armando Mannini. Special mention must also be made of the ‘Blue Bar’ where Lavia plays the piano. The exterior is a note-perfect recreation of Edward Hopper’s famous 1942 painting ‘Nighthawks’, complete with customers appropriately posed in its interior as Hemmings and his friend talk on the street outside. Of course, it’s not central to the plot in any way, but it’s an indication of the seriousness of Argento’s artistic intentions and the efforts made to realise his vision.
If the film has any serious flaws, then, unsurprisingly, you can point to the story. Plots and their improbabilities were often a weakness in Giallo, principally because the filmmakers involved were more concerned with delivering graphic, stylish murders, sleaze, and other popular box office winners than story logic or coherent mysteries. At first glance, Argento’s film could also be tagged with this label and yet, there is so much going on, both overtly and beneath the surface, that rewatching reveals interpretations of events that refute this claim. One familiar and rather silly Giallo trope is that of the omnipotent killer who is always conveniently watching from the shadows when someone finds a vital clue to their identity, prompting their elimination. If it’s not immediate, it’s shortly afterwards, and certainly before they’ve had a chance to tell anyone what they’ve discovered. This element is so evident in Argento’s film that it almost descends into parody, but there’s another possible interpretation of these events.
The existence of genuine psychic abilities is established at the very start of the film during the lecture when Méril contacts the killer’s mind. As Hemmings investigates, the assassin is always first to follow up on what he uncovers, causing the pianist to question more than once how the killer is always one step ahead of them. No plot development explains it at any stage. Late on, one of the characters even accuses Hemmings explicitly of being to blame for the individual murders because of his ongoing interference. Is Argento suggesting a psychic connection between the killer and the hero? The possibility is never acknowledged but it’s an intriguing theory. Similarly, the final shot of the film is a very curious one. The mystery is solved, the action over, but there’s no feeling of closure for Hemmings or the audience, more of a sense of unpleasant things to come.
The most common criticism levelled at the film is the comedic elements of Hemmings and Nicolodi’s relationship. Indeed, when the international release was prepared and roughly 20 minutes excised from the original running time, most of the cuts made were of these scenes. It’s a pity, but not wholly unreasonable, as those moments in the final act feel somewhat out of place. Some of their banter is a little dated, too, but the so-called ‘Battle of the Sexes’ was a real talking point during that era. Lucky for us, the lines are delivered by two skilful actors who give them a depth that might have eluded lesser talents. Nicolodi’s aggressive, go-getting career girl competing successfully in a man’s world was quite a radical concept for Italian cinema of the time and could easily have descended into broad caricature. However, thanks to Nicolodi’s deft work, it’s clear to the audience, if not to Hemmings, that she’s a completely hopeless romantic underneath her ‘hard as nails’ exterior. It’s a neat balancing act, with both sides of the character integrating into a convincing whole.
Hemmings is also excellent as the uptight Englishman abroad, trying hard to project a modern, radical face to the world while teetering endlessly on the edge of social embarrassment. He’s uncomfortable with just about everyone, from Carlo’s androgynous lover, Massimo Ricci (Geraldine Hooper), to his best friend’s slightly dotty mother (Clara Calamai) to Olga, the pre-pubescent daughter of the empty mansion’s caretaker (another fantastic performance by the cute but creepy Nicoletta Elmi). However, a little more time might have been spent with the crass Inspector Calcabrini (Eros Pagni) and the official investigation. Nicolodi tells Hemmings that he’s bound to be the main suspect in the murders, which is a reasonable assumption, but the audience never gets the feeling that the police are even looking for him. So, the opportunity to add another layer of tension is lost.
These are minor quibbles, however, negated for the most part by the heightened level of reality that Argento has conjured. This is not a grounded film, and it’s the more realistic scenes that can appear a little out of place. The director does his best to trick out these simple sequences with a hefty dose of flair and creativity. Hemmings makes a phone call from a public call box with cars whizzing by at high speeds on both sides of him. There is no establishing shot, so it seems that the phone must be located on a motorway traffic island! It makes about as much sense as the killer taking the time to hang naked dolls around the house of someone who’s about to die or sending a mechanical doll charging towards another victim. But once you buy into the insanity of it all, these things don’t seem so unreasonable after all. There’s even a significant clue to the killer’s identity that operates outside the framework of the film itself, being a nod to Italian cinematic and political history. That’s an indication of the complexity at work here.
Another integral component of the finished article is the unusual musical score. Argento initially employed composer Giorgio Gaslini but subsequently hired the young progressive rock band Goblin to complete the work. Pieces from both underpin the action, but the latter’s rock stylings are truly striking and helped launch the band into a lucrative recording career. A few years later, George A Romero hired them to work on ‘Dawn of the Dead’ (1978), a project with which Argento was also involved. A ‘Deep Red’ remake in 3-D involving Romero was planned at one stage but came to nothing. Argento has publicly stated his dislike of remakes, which is a little ironic if you consider that this film can be viewed as a remake of his own ‘The Bird with the Crystal Plumage/L’uccello dalle piume di cristallo’ (1970). There are more than a few narrative similarities, principally the foreigner in Rome who witnesses a murder and can’t quite recall a detail about it that bothers him.
Nicolodi and Argento fell in love during the making of the film, and this led to her appearances in almost all of his best-regarded films, including ‘Inferno’ (1980), ‘Tenebrae’ (1982), ‘Phenomena’ (1985) and ‘Opera’ (1987). She also proved her undoubted abilities elsewhere and is rightly remembered for her superb leading performance in Mario Bava’s last film ‘Shock/Schock’ (1977), which he directed along with his son Lamberto. Outside the horror genre, she was underemployed and underappreciated, although the arrival of daughter Asia in late 1975 probably dictated a change of priorities. Of course, Asia became an award-winning actor and filmmaker of note in her own right and worked with father Dario on his recent Giallo ‘Dark Glasses’ (2022).
There’s a lot to unpack in Argento’s Giallo classic. It’s a film where appreciation grows with each subsequent viewing.
Mark David Welsh 