mandag 26. mars 2012

Black Angel/Arabella l’angelo nero



Italy, 1989

Directed by Stelvio Massi

Cast:
Tinì Cansino, Francesco Casale, Valentina Visconti, Evelyn Stewart, Rena Niehaus, Carlo Mucari, Renato D’Amore, Giosè Davì, David D’Ingeo, Vinicio Diamanti



Known for his many forays into the poliziesco genre, prolific filmmaker Stelvio Massi only directed two entries in the popular giallo genre. The first one was Five Women for the Killer (1974), a rather sleazy and tasteless effort about a killer who gorily mutilates pregnant women. It would take 15 years before Massi took another stab at the genre with Black Angel and it does not come as a big surprise that this effort, too, is a very seedy and tasteless affair.

In the film’s opening sequence we see a flame-haired and sluttily dressed woman named Deborah (Tinì Cansino – dubbed by Carolynn De Fonseca) driving around in a fancy red car while laughing and sipping from a mini bottle of J&B. Unbeknownst to her, she is being tailed by a seedy-looking man (Giosè Davì – dubbed by Robert Spafford) who eagerly follows her every move. Deborah parks her car and heads for a big, secluded mansion that turns out to be a kinky bordello where all kinds of perversions are catered to.


Deborah - out looking for thrills




Various bordello delights


Deborah doesn’t waste any time and quickly starts getting it on with two studly young men while the guy who’s following her watches from a distance – gleefully taking plenty of pictures of the spectacle. However, Deborah gets more than she bargained for when her two studs suddenly turn nasty and pull a knife on her.


Deborah’s three-way goes from steamy...

...to very nasty...

...all under the leery gaze of Deborah’s stalker


Fortunately for Deborah, she is saved by a surprise police raid, and hurriedly flees to her car. But before she can drive off, Deborah is apprehended by a cop named De Rosa (Carlo Mucari). Distraught, Deborah tries to explain that she is not a prostitute but a well-off lady but to no avail as De Rosa swiftly handcuffs her, bends her over the hood of the car and rapes her – all the while Deborah’s sweaty stalker is secretly photographing the act from a distance! We’re not even 10 minutes into the film yet and we’ve already been bombarded with non-stop sleazy imagery. Talk about an opening!


Hopefully, this isn’t the standard operating procedure of the Italian police force


After he’s had his way with her, detective De Rosa uncuffs the poor woman, who sobbingly drives back home. We soon learn that Deborah is indeed a well-off lady as she is married to the wealthy, best-selling author Frank Veronesi (Francesco Casale – dubbed by Ted Rusoff), and lives in a huge villa together with him and his doting mother Marta (Evelyn Stewart). Oh, and for some inexplicable reason, it turns out that when Deborah is at home, she always wears a dark Bettie Page-style wig instead of the curly red hair we saw her with in the opening sequence. Anyway, Frank and Deborah’s marriage is anything but idyllic. They used to be very happy but a flashback reveals that on their wedding day, Deborah was giving her husband a blowjob while he was driving – causing him to crash the car and become paralyzed. Deborah still loves her husband and tries her best to be a good, supportive wife but Frank, however, is boiling with bitterness and rage, and even suffers from a writer’s block. He blames Deborah for putting him in a wheelchair and relishes every opportunity to yell at her and demean her.


Frank, the mean, crippled husband

Deborah in one of her numerous fits of sobbing brought on by her husband


Soon, things go from bad to worse as the vile detective La Rosa arrives at the dysfunctional household to look for Deborah. Having found out that she really does belong to the upper class, De Rosa demands Deborah to have sex with him again – threatening to tell Frank about her visits to kinky bordellos if she doesn’t obey. Desperate to keep her nightly activities secret, Deborah is forced to oblige and sneaks into the garage with La Rosa to do the dirty deed. However, a suspicious Frank catches them just as De Rosa is going down on Deborah – at which point she promptly grabs a hammer and bashes in De Rosa’s head.




Deborah disposes of De Rosa while her husband watches in disbelief


Frank helps her bury the body as Deborah confesses the details of her secret nocturnal life. Somewhat unexpectedly, this causes the estranged couple to rekindle their love for each other. It also gives Frank an idea on how to overcome his writer’s block. He insists that Deborah must continue her kinky nighttime activities and report back to Frank so that he can use her experiences as inspiration for the Black Angel, the protagonist of his new novel. Though highly reluctant, Deborah complies with her husband’s wishes and picks up a young gigolo with a cowboy outfit and has dirty sex with him in a cheap motel. But soon after Deborah has left, the young man is savagely stabbed to death with a pair of scissors before getting his genitalia sliced off.



Deborah’s one-nighter meets a horrifying end


Police Inspector Gina Fowler (Valentina Visconti) is assigned to solve the murder but she has trouble dealing with the grisly case, which visibly sickens and upsets her. However, it quickly transpires that it’s not so much the gruesome nature of the crime that upsets Fowler but rather the familiarity of the killing, which triggers a deeply traumatic childhood memory in her. And in the meantime the scissor murders continue...


Violent murders bring back traumatizing memories from Inspector Fowler’s childhood - surely one of the most iconic plot elements of the giallo


The giallo genre was having a bit of a resurgence in the 1980s thanks to the huge success of Dario Argento’s Tenebrae (1982). Nevertheless it was Carlo Vanzina’s Nothing Underneath (1985), a glossy giallo set in the fashion industry world, that would prove to be the most instrumental in shaping the look and feel of the genre during the mid to late 1980s. In the wake of Vanzina’s film, movie goers were treated to a wave of fashion-oriented gialli featuring slick and sometimes bizarre music video-style aesthetics, such as Lamberto Bava’s Delirium (1987), Dario Piana’s Too Beautiful to Die (1988), Piccio Raffanini’s A Taste for Fear (1988), Stelio Fiorenza’s Dark Bar (1988) and Bruno Gaburro’s Fashion Crimes (1989). But with Black Angel, director Stelvio Massi breaks free of this mold – opting instead for a seedier setting and much grislier murders. Black Angel also has much greater emphasis on sex and one might very well argue that this is more of an erotic film (albeit a very kinky one) in the guise of a giallo than it is an all out giallo. The giallo elements that are on display are pretty iconic, though, and clearly show the influence of Argento rather than the fashion-gialli initiated by Vanzina. The script (by a certain R. Filippucci) offers a few deliciously ridiculous plot twists and enjoyable nods to Argento but it must be said that the big reveal does not come as any major surprise – at least not to seasoned giallo viewers or Argento buffs.

But in spite of several clear similarities to the classic gialli of the 1970s, Black Angel is not nearly as much fun to watch. On the contrary it is a very grim film drenched in an atmosphere of extreme bleakness and cynicism. It plays out in an utterly joyless world where no one seems to be happy, and it’s abundantly clear that solving the scissor murders will do little to change this. It’s also hard to get emotionally invested in any of the characters, who seem to consist primarily of two different types: abusive scumbags and powerless victims. The latter category is moslty made up of women, and the former of men, starting with Frank, the bitter and crippled writer. He seems to put the blame for his paralysis solely on Deborah even though he is shown to be just as much at blame himself, and he clearly enjoys subjecting his wife to all kinds of indignities. But if Frank is bad, he seriously pales in comparison to how the officers of the law are portrayed. The worst of the lot is the loathsome detective De Rosa, who exploits his position by blackmailing law offenders into becoming his sex slaves. Not much better is Inspector Fowler’s assistant and lesbian lover Agnes (played by Rena Niehaus, and dubbed by Pat Starke), who tricks Fowler into revealing her childhood trauma – only to promptly use the story in an attempt to steal her job. The naïve Fowler is completely taken aback by her lover’s actions: “I always thought that girls had better souls than men”, she despairs. Upon which Agnes condescendingly remarks that: “These are typical lesbian thoughts, my dear”. Agnes is interesting in that she is the only strong female character in the film but this is only because she has adopted the cynical attitudes of the male characters and discarded any sort of humane – i.e. feminine – traits.


Agnes (left) momentarily feigns feminine values in order to exploit her lover


In stark contrast to Agnes, Inspector Fowler is portrayed as rather pathetic – a helpless victim of her own weak sex. Although a capable police inspector, she is nevertheless unable to cope with the strains of her childhood trauma, has dreams about being violated, gets backstabbed because she naively trusts in her lover, and then – worst of all – actually begs Agnes to take her back after having been betrayed by her. Fowler’s reason for doing so appears to be some sort of basic feminine fear of being abandoned and left alone – a fear which also causes her to makes another questionable decision later on. The same fear of abandonment and not being loved is exhibited by Deborah throughout most of the film. She seems to genuinely love Frank and hence she is willing to let herself be submitted to any kind of sexual degradation for his sake. Here, however, it is interesting to note that even though Frank is pressuring Deborah into degrading herself by dressing like a slut and cruising the streets in search of casual lovers, she is also shown to enjoy having to do this. While this may be seen merely as director Massi trying to cater to the male fantasy that women enjoy being treated badly, it can also add a bit of complexity to the Deborah character – making it somewhat ambiguous whether she is driven by a submissive need to do anything for the man she loves, or if she’s actually motivated by a more selfish urge to fulfill her own kinky desires. The film never gives us a clear answer and this makes Deborah a much more fascinating character. It’s just such a damn shame then that she is so prone to hysterical, sobbing outbursts as this tends to render her more pathetic (at least in the English dub, where Carolynn De Fonseca really lays it on with the sobbing in the dubbing studio).

Surprisingly, nearly all the victims are males, which is quite unusual for a film of this type. With that said, though, the women are victimized and abused in just about every other way. Fowler has recurring nightmares in which the killer caresses her naked body with a pair of bloody scissors before violently stabbing her in the crotch, and Deborah is raped, demeaned, objectified and spied on throughout the film. She is made to disrobe at frequent intervals and the camera ogles her shapely body in leering detail.




Deborah readies herself for a night of cruising - under the voyeuristic and objectifying gaze of her husband, the audience and herself



Inspector Fowler dreams of being violated


It should be said that Black Angel probably contains a bit too many long sex scenes that tend to grind the narrative to a halt, and this is probably the film’s most serious flaw. Sadly, the trend of putting too much emphasis on sex would become more and more dominant in gialli during the late 1980s and by the early to mid 1990s the once thriving sub-genre had been reduced to little more than a series of generic ‘erotic thrillers’ with few, if any, distinguishing traits to separate them from similar American products. Black Angel, however, is in no danger of this – thanks to a thick atmosphere of extreme sleaze and depravation characteristic of Italian B movie cinema at its finest. It also comes with a great, rousing and typically Italian synth score (credited to a certain Serfran) which suits the proceedings nicely.

Although the visual style of Black Angel is less striking than your average giallo from the 1970s, it is nevertheless slickly shot and contains a couple of stylish moments. Warranting special mention is a delightfully kitschy sequence in which Deborah is cruising the strip in search of male hustlers. Adopting Deborah’s point of view, the camera pans across a long line of young – and obviously gay – hustlers dressed in outrageous kink outfits strutting their stuff trying to entice anyone willing to shell out for their services.




A bunch of gay hustlers striking their poses in this great and wonderfully lit sequence


A big part of the film’s appeal undeniably comes from its delectable leading lady Tinì Cansino. Born in Greece as Photina Lappa, Cansino went to Italy to pursue an acting career in the 1980s. Possessing a passing resemblance to Hollywood legend Rita Hayworth, she modeled her look and appearance as closely to Hayworth as possible, changed her name to Tinì Cansino (Hayworth’s birth name being Margarita Carmen Cansino) and fabricated a story about being Hayworth’s niece. Her strategy was successful and she quickly became a regular fixture in such “dirty magazines” as Playmen and Gin Fizz, and appeared in a fair share of sexy film roles. Cansino is hardly what one would call a great actress but she does look incredibly sexy and participates in all the sordid and graphic material with unashamed enthusiasm. Oh, and the Hayworth resemblance manages to add an extra layer of sleaziness to the proceedings.



Tinì Cansino eagerly participates in a number of explicit scenes. Somewhat surprisingly, though, Black Angel was to become her final film


The only other notable actors in the cast are old pros Evelyn Stewart and Rena Niehaus. Stewart (who is also known under her real name Ida Galli) is a veteran giallo actress, having appeared in a number of classics such as The Sweet Body of Deborah (1968), The Case of the Scorpion’s Tail (1971), A White Dress for Marialè (1972) and Knife of Ice (1972). By the late 1980s, Stewart was in semi-retirement and it is wonderful to see this versatile and iconic giallo actress make a genre comeback. It’s not a huge part but Stewart plays it to perfection and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing her take on the role of the maternal figure in the decadent Veronesi household. Interestingly, Black Angel was not just a comeback movie for Stewart but also for German actress Rena Niehaus, who had achieved some success in the 1970s with leading roles in films such as Eriprando Visconti’s La orca (1976) and Ugo Liberatore’s horror film Damned in Venice (1978) before she abruptly abandoned the film industry. Black Angel was Niehaus’ first film in 10 years and she would only appear in one more film, the little-known crime film Mafia Docks (1991), before retiring for good. I don’t know why her comeback was so short-lived because she was still quite attractive and delivers a very enjoyable performance here as the bitchy lesbian cop Agnes.


The great Evelyn Stewart – still attractive in her late 40s – is one of the film’s strongest assets


Finally, the film boasts amusing uncredited cameo appearances by two highly interesting personalities who should be familiar to fans of Italian B movie cinema: Vinicio Diamanti and Zaira Zoccheddu. Diamanti is an extravagant character actor who specialized in playing comical parts as flamboyant homosexuals or drag queens. His most well-known film was no doubt La cage aux folles (1978), in which he played a small role, but he also pops up in Fernando Di Leo’s To Be Twenty (1978), Umberto Lenzi’s Excuse Me, Are Your Normal? (1979) and the cop-comedy Cop in Drag (1984) with Tomas Milian. In Black Angel, Diamanti appears as extravagant as always in the role of the doorman at the kinky bordello - sporting heavy make-up and full S&M gear while playing on an accordion.
Zaira Zoccheddu is perhaps a more obscure figure as she appeared almost exclusively in grade-Z trash. Originally a beauty queen, Zoccheddu represented Italy in the 1974 Miss World pageant before embarking on a series of sleazy adventures in the likes of Luigi Batzella’s ultra-trashy nazisploitation romp Achtung! The Desert Tigers (1976), Tano Cimarosa’s violent crime film Death Hunt (1977), the Ajita Wilson WIP flicks Escape from Hell and Hotel Paradise (made back-to-back in 1979), and the hardcore porn movie Gocce d’amore (1981). By the late 1980s, Zoccheddu’s career was reduced to appearing in the unbelievably awful (though highly enjoyable) horror film The Cross of Seven Jewels (1987), doing frequent pictorials in the nudie magazine Gin Fizz, as well as various small uncredited parts such as her role in Black Angel, where she is seen briefly as a topless woman with a Freddy Krueger-style glove who makes lewd gestures with her tongue and fingers to Deborah when she arrives at the bordello at the start of the film.


Vinicio Diamanti’s outrageous cameo as the bordello doorman



A very brief but welcome cameo by trash actress extraordinaire Zaira Zoccheddu


So, is Black Angel an enjoyable film? No, not particularly – for that it is much too depressing and cynical. It is also rather tacky and vulgar, as well as occasionally ludicrous, and this combination will probably be off-putting to several viewers. But in spite of this, Black Angel is a film that makes much more of a lasting impact than any of the fashion-gialli from the same era. Indeed, it remained on my mind for a long time after I’d finished watching it and I dare say it is made with more intelligence than a look at its jaded surface would have you thinking. It is definitely a memorable film and, ultimately, I would recommend all serious giallo fans to check it out.


A final note about the film’s English version

This film is usually referred to by the English language title Arabella the Black Angel, which is a direct translation of the original Italian title Arabella l’angelo nero. However, the film has never actually had any kind of official release under this title, and understandably so as the main character is only named Arabella in the Italian version whereas she has been renamed Deborah for the English dub. The film’s English export title is simply Black Angel, and I am certain that this is the only official English title even though the notoriously unreliable IMDb lists both Angel: Black Angel and Angela, the Black Angel as alternate titles – none of which make any sort of sense since there is no one named Angel or Angela in neither the Italian nor the English language version. Trivia buffs may want to note that Arabella isn’t the only character to be renamed. In fact, the majority of the character names have been anglicized for the English dubbed version. For example, Frank and Inspector Fowler are named Francesco and Inspector Falco, respectively, in the Italian version, but the biggest difference is Police lieutenant Marlowe, whose name in the Italian dub is Scognamillo. Of course, it’s not unusual for the English dubbing to attempt to obscure a film’s Italian origins (there are countless other examples of this) but, strangely enough, the surname Veronesi is retained in both the English and Italian language versions.


© 2012 Johan Melle



The cast:


Tinì Cansino as Deborah Veronesi


Francesco Casale as Frank Veronesi


Valentina Visconti as Inspector Gina Fowler


Evelyn Stewart as Marta Veronesi


Rena Niehaus as Agnes


Carlo Mucari as Detective De Rosa


Renato D’Amore as Lt. Marlowe


Giosè Davì as Private detective


David D'Ingeo as Gigolo


Vinicio Diamanti as Doorman at the bordello

søndag 19. februar 2012

Man Who Didn't Want to Die/L’uomo che non voleva morire



Italy, 1989

Directed by Lamberto Bava

Cast:
Keith Van Hoven, Gino Concari, Martine Brochard, Lino Salemme, Stefano Molinari, Igor Zalewsky, Raffaella La Vecchia, Peter Pitsch, Jacques Sernas



Having been positively surprised by School of Fear (1989), one of the four TV movie thrillers Lamberto Bava directed under the series title High Tension, I decided to check out the remaining three films in this series, and finally sat down with The Man Who Didn’t Want to Die. This film is based on a short story by Giorgio Scerbanenco, a fairly well-known Italian writer who penned the novels on which the hard-hitting Fernando Di Leo crime films Calibre 9 (1972) and Manhunt (1972) are based. This project must have been somewhat special to Lamberto Bava because his father, the great Mario Bava, had once planned on filming this story himself. According to Tim Lucas’ extensive tome Mario Bava: All the Colors of the Dark, Bava Senior had been impressed by Scerbanenco’s short story and meant to make a film out of it in 1972. He got as far as to write a screenplay together with Rafael Azcona and Alessandro Parenzo but the project was put on hold when Bava began to work on Lisa and the Devil (1973) and he didn’t get around to digging up the project again before his untimely death in 1980.

Surprisingly for a Lamberto Bava film – but in keeping with Scerbanenco’s writings – The Man Who Didn’t Want to Die actually plays out more like a cynical crime film than a horror movie. The plot concerns the greedy and unscrupulous art dealer Madame Janaud (Martine Brochard – dubbed by Carolynn De Fonseca), whose primary method for acquiring invaluable art pieces is to hire a gang of brutish thugs to break into the homes of private collectors and steal their art. In charge of these brutal operations is the handsome Fabrizio (Keith Van Hoven – dubbed by Ted Rusoff), who we see forcing his way into a fancy villa together with his four goons at the start of the film. The gang gag and tie up the villa’s only occupants – a caretaker and his sexy wife – before proceeding to strip the place bare of expensive art objects. The most precious piece is the Renoir painting “After the Bath”, which Madame Janaud is eager to get her hands on so she can sell it for a hefty price to obsessive art collector Mr. Miraz (Jacques Sernas – dubbed by Ken Belton).


Brutal break-in


The ruthless Madame Janaud


The coveted Renoir painting that sets all the drama in motion


But, alas, things don’t turn out as planned. While all of Fabrizio’s men are low-life punks, there is one particularly loathsome and disgusting character named Giannetto (Gino Concari) who decides to double-cross the rest of the group. While packing the stolen goods into their van, Giannetto uses a knife to carve the Renoir painting from its frame and then hides it in the garage – planning on returning for it later. This sounds like an awful plan as the place will surely be crawling with cops by then but presumably Giannetto just isn’t particularly bright.



Giannetto double-crosses his group


But Giannetto isn’t just stupid - he’s also a complete creep who can’t keep his hands off the caretaker’s terrified wife, who lies bound and gagged in the kitchen. Giannetto rips off the defenseless woman’s clothes and begins to rape her while her tied-up husband is forced to watch.




Giannetto gets nasty


Incredibly, the tied-up husband manages to crawl over to them and save his wife by kicking Giannetto in the head – fatally wounding him! Alerted by all the noise, Fabrizio and the others rush to the kitchen and are stunned when they find Giannetto dying on the floor, and quite frankly, so am I as the badly choreographed kick to the head looked anything but fatal. Anyway, an annoyed Fabrizio shoots and kills the poor caretaker and his half-naked wife, and the goons wrap the dying Giannetto in a carpet, put him in their van and drive off. Since they cannot risk taking their wounded partner to the hospital, Fabrizio wants to kill him but some of the others disagree and they start arguing about what to do. In the end, they decide to strip Giannetto naked, dump him in the woods and leave him for dead.



Giannetto is dumped and left for dead


But, naturally, Giannetto – in keeping with the film’s title – does not want to die and he somehow makes it till the next morning when he is found and taken to a hospital. Miraculously recovering from his injuries, he swears to get back at the ones who have wronged him and it doesn’t take long before everyone connected to the robbery start being brutally murdered by a giallo-esque killer dressed in black...


The man who didn’t want to die makes a miraculous recovery at the hospital



The black-clad killer claims his first victim


The idea of Lamberto Bava making a film from a story that his own father had once planned to adapt is intriguing and one really wishes it had turned into an enjoyable film. But, regrettably, that is not the case. In fact, very little works in The Man Who Didn’t Want to Die – least of all the story, which largely relies on the audience sympathizing with Giannetto. Since Giannetto is such an irredeemably vile character who doesn’t think twice about raping a poor defenseless woman, it’s practically impossible to care about what happens to him. Nevertheless, the film insists on throwing in several sequences where the suspense rests solely on whether or not Giannetto will pull through, and these attempts at creating tension fall completely flat.

In Tim Lucas’ aforementioned Bava book, Lamberto is quoted with saying that he took the unfilmed script his father had written together with Rafael Azcona and Alessandro Parenzo, and made this film. However, the only writer to receive any onscreen credit is Gianfranco Clerici, who is known for co-writing such notable films as The New York Ripper (1982) and Formula for a Murder (1985), and hence it seems reasonable to assume that Clerici and Bava Junior made some changes to the old script. Nevertheless, the Bava book includes a plot summary of Scerbanenco’s original short story and this description does not differ from the plot of the finished film in any significant way, so it appears that Clerici stayed fairly faithful to the original story and script. However, I am willing to bet that if Bava Senior had made this film, he would not have tried to get the audience to sympathize with the Giannetto character. Why would he? What makes the story interesting are not the unlikable characters but rather the way in which their cynicism and greediness lead to their downfall. This point appears to be lost on Clerici and Bava Junior, and their decision to turn Giannetto into some kind of hero is seriously misguided. Furthermore, their attempts to make Giannetto sympathetic fail epically because his abrupt transformation from filthy rapist to sad, puppy-eyed man done wrong is laughably unconvincing. And it doesn’t exactly help that Giannetto is played by Gino Concari, a really terrible actor who also starred in Andrea Bianchi’s miserably bad Massacre (1989) around the same time. Concari’s idea of projecting rage is to constantly grit his teeth while making big, wild eyes like he’s channeling Lou Ferrigno as the Incredible Hulk.


OK, we get it! Giannetto is dangerous!


With the exception of Giannetto’s girlfriend Vittoria (played by Raffaella La Vecchia), all of the other characters are equally unlikable. That isn’t a problem in itself as unsympathetic characters can work perfectly well as long as they are interesting. But, alas, they are all complete cardboard cutouts who show no discernible traces of personalities.

To make matters worse, Lamberto Bava’s direction is pretty ham-fisted and uninspired. The sequence where the goons escape in their van is incredibly drawn-out and lacking in suspense, and there are numerous sequences where the camera slowly pans across completely uneventful images while Simon Boswell’s nice but repetitive score plays on and on. It’s almost as if Bava had no interest in the film, which can’t be right since it was obviously important to him to realize the project that his father never got to do and that makes the dire end result all the more disappointing.

It isn’t until well over an hour into the proceedings that the thugs finally start to get bumped off in various gruesome ways – with one character being shot repeatedly in the face with a nail gun, and another getting his head squashed like a pancake. While neither of these moments are as gory as they may sound, they do at least manage to animate the film somewhat. The only stand-out kill scene, however, is when an unlucky guy is dispatched by having his head repeatedly smashed against a toilet and then getting his bleeding face shoved down the toilet bowl till he drowns – something which is actually filmed from the toilet’s point of view. It’s quite a hideous and uncomfortable sight but it’s well executed and the toilet point of view shots are pretty stylish.


Nail gun massacre



Death by toilet!


Playing the leading role of Fabrizio is actor Keith Van Hoven, who was born in England to a Scottish mother and a Dutch father. Van Hoven started out as a fashion model and this brought him to Italy, where he found some success as an actor. His biggest success was a starring role opposite popular actress Federica Moro in the comedy TV series College (1989) but Van Hoven also landed leads in a couple of horror films such as Lucio Fulci’s The House of Clocks (1989), Umberto Lenzi’s Black Demons (1991) and of course this film. He is very handsome but, sadly, he is also pretty inexpressive and hence he fails to make much of an impression. The supporting cast is largely made up of people who are familiar from various other Bava movies. Two of Fabrizio’s thugs are played by Lino Salemme and Stefano Molinari. Sinister-looking Salemme should be familiar for his parts as one of the punk kids in Demons (1985) and as the creepy tavern-keeper in Graveyard Disturbance (1987), while Molinari played the ugly demon in the movie being shown on TV in Demons 2 (1986). There’s also Madame Janaud’s efficient henchman Britz, played by German actor Peter Pitsch, who also played one of the punks in Demons and was a dead serial killer in You’ll Die at Midnight (1986). While none of these guys really get to shine, they all have the perfect look for the parts they’re playing and it’s nice to have some familiar faces around.

The only big names in the cast are Martine Brochard and Jacques Sernas – two excellent French actors with an impressive list of credits in Italian genre cinema – but neither of them are used to their fullest potential here. Sernas in particular is wasted in what is basically a glorified cameo. Brochard fares better in that she gets a fair amount of screen time (though hardly enough to justify her prominent top-billing) and she acquits herself nicely as the greedy Madame Janaud. She probably didn’t put too much effort into her performance but she gets away with it and she looks great!


Old pros Jacques Sernas and Martine Brochard infuse the film with some much needed elegance and professionalism


It’s a real shame that The Man Who Didn’t Want to Die turned out as badly as it did because this extremely cynical tale had the potential for turning into a really hard-hitting crime/horror film. It would have been interesting to see what Mario Bava could have made of the material but in the hands of his son this sadly turned into an incompetent mess that isn’t worthy of anyone’s time or attention! I really regret having to say so because it’s obvious that Lamberto’s intentions were noble, and he is capable of delivering much better work.



© 2012 Johan Melle



The cast:


Keith Van Hoven as Fabrizio


Gino Concari as Fabrizio


Martine Brochard as Madame Janaud


Lino Salemme as Tito


Stefano Molinari as Berto


Igor Zalewsky as Luigi


Raffaella La Vecchia as Vittoria


Peter Pitsch as Britz


Jacques Sernas as Mr. Miraz

søndag 11. desember 2011

Elizabeth Turner, actress and... FASHION MODEL!


Elizabeth Turner is without a doubt one of the most obscure and mysterious actresses to have appeared in Italian films. The above screenshot of Elizabeth is taken from Ruggero Deodato's erotic thriller Waves of Lust (1975), where she plays a very prominent role and has lots of steamy scenes together with the film's other three stars Silvia Dionisio, Al Cliver and John Steiner. Elizabeth played her only real leading role in Jean-Marie Pallardy's sexually explicit Truck Stop (1978), but she is probably best known for her substantial role as John Saxon's wife in Antonio Margheriti's gory horror hit Cannibal Apocalypse (1980), which also appears to be Elizabeth's final film.

Additionally, Elizabeth played supporting roles in a couple of other notable films, including the popular Exorcist rip-off Beyond the Door (1974), where she plays Juliet Mills' good friend, and Lucio Fulci's compelling giallo The Psychic (1977), where she has a small but memorable part at the start of the film - as Jennifer O'Neill's mother, who commits suicide by throwing herself off a cliff.

However, nothing is known about Elizabeth herself. Absolutely nothing! Based on her name and her looks, I'm assuming she's either British or American but that's it. I have never found any information about her background and nobody seems to know what became of her either.

The only thing I have been able to find out about Elizabeth is that she worked as a fashion model in the early 1970s. Indeed, I've been fortunate enough to lay my hands on some Italian magazines that feature some pretty cool fashion shoots with her. I'd bet modelling is what brought her to Italy in the first place, and then she was presumably discovered and put in movies.

Anyway, I've scanned a bunch of fashion photos of Elizabeth and thought I'd share them here. They are all quite cool but also slightly bizarre due to the inclusion of some rather absurd props.


First up is a shoot from 1971 where Elizabeth is posing in trench coats for photographer Franco Grillo. I have no idea what the deal with the steering wheels is, though!









Up next is another 1971 shoot, and once again photographed by Franco Grillo. Again, I don't get what the deal with the Christmas stars (at least I think that's what they are) is but I guess Grillo just likes to use weird props in his shoots.









Finally, we have a fashion shoot from 1972 where Elizabeth is posing in outfits that are labelled as "men's style with femininity" in the article text. Once again the photographer is Franco Grillo, which explains the appearance of lots of animal statues.








On a final note it is worth mentioning that in all of these fashion spreads, the model is credited simply as "Joan" - not as Elizabeth. Which raises the question of whether or not Elizabeth Turner actually is her real name. The mystery deepens...

Is there anyone out there who knows anything about Elizabeth Turner? If so then do come forward!