BY TODD GARBARINI
Lieutenant Fred Williams (Jack Hedley) is easily the
horror cinema’s most pedestrian, laid back, and disinterested police detective
in recent memory. In Lucio Fulci’s infamous slasher outing The New York Ripper
(1982), a spate of brutal crimes involving young women being sliced up by a
knife-wielding maniac who quacks like a duck (yes, you read that right) lands right
smack into Williams’s lap and he couldn’t be more bored by it. Mr. Hedley’s
characterization of this by-the-book investigator was no doubt in the script,
but his character just meanders through his scenes with such an aloof attitude
that it’s amazing no one calls him out on it. The few times Williams does
appear to spring to life are when the sex lives of his victims are revealed,
which he reacts to with a judgmental shrug and smirk when he’s extricating a
motive from the morgue pathologist (Giordano Falzoni) or informing one Dr.
Lodge (Cosimo Cinieri, credited here as “Laurence Wellesâ€) that the effects of
his open marriage have resulted in the death of his sexually adventurous wife
Jane Lodge. This is a hypocritical reaction considering that he himself
frequents a prostitute named Kitty (Daniela Doria), a fact not lost on the
“quacker†who phones Williams at Kitty’s apartment just to let him know that he
has his eye on him! Williams himself is genuinely confounded by this unexpected
breach of privacy which gives him some resolve to find the killer with slightly
more urgency, but not by much – it also puts Kitty in danger.
The murders in this film are gory, graphic and
protracted. Any seasoned slasher fan will easily differentiate between the
actual performers and the graphic make-up effects created to look like the
female anatomy, be it a decomposed human hand retrieved by a dog at the film’s
start, a young victim named Rosie (Cinzia de Ponti) slashed on the Staten
Island Ferry, a sex performer named Eva (Zora Kerova) who meets a violent end
thanks to a smashed bottle, or the aforementioned Jane (Alexandra Delli Colli)
who gets more than she bargained for when her sexual shenanigans go south. It’s
obvious to both Williams and his police chief (played by Lucio Fulci!) that the
“quacker†is a misogynist. It’s a good thing he isn’t a doctor. A prime suspect
is a sex show spectator with two missing fingers, Mickey Scellenda (Renato
Rossini, credited here as “Howard Rossâ€), who meets Jane at an insalubrious 42nd
Street theater and later engages in some consensual BDSM with her at a flea bag
motel that begins to exceed even her limits. Jane goes from being an aroused
spectator to a willing participant. Scellenda then sets his sights on Fay
Majors (Almanta Keller), a young woman who foolishly rides the graffiti-riddled
subway train alone in the middle of the night, and later attacks her before her
physicist boyfriend Peter (Andrew Painter) comes to her rescue.
Williams enlists the help of a psychotherapy professor,
Dr. Paul Davis (Paolo Malco of Mr. Fulci’s The House by the Cemetery), who is
prepped as the Simon Oakland character in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) and
creates a psychological profile of the killer. Barbara Cupisti makes her
Italian horror film screen debut and appears briefly as an assistant. She would
go on to star as Alicia in Michele Soavi’s phenomenal Stage Fright five years
later.
More surprising than the violent murders are the sexually
charged scenes that lend a high degree of uneasiness to the whole affair. A
live sex shows plays more like a softcore porn interlude, and the film’s
arguably most disturbing sequence involves what amounts to Jane being raped in
a pool hall by a creepy player (Josh Cruze) egged on by his equally creepy
friend (Antoine Pagan). Even Dr. Davis is portrayed as a closet homosexual,
purchasing a copy of BlueBoy magazine at a newsstand and hiding it inside a
copy of the New York Post (think about that for a minute!). I can only imagine
what the audiences in 1982 must have thought about this film. In 2019, it’s
distressing to say that far worse is available to see on the Web to eyes just
as jaded as Lieutenant Williams’s.
One would think that the duck quacking would have turned
this film into a comedy and while there are moments that do elicit laughter,
the whole thing is actually played straight, so straight in fact that when the
denouement arrives courtesy of the requisite deus ex-machina, the killer is
revealed in one of the bleakest endings in giallo history.
Filmed in New York City between August and October in
1981 during an especially seedy time in Times Square’s history, The New York
Ripper is one of the most controversial and infamous giallo films of the
decade, or perhaps ever. Mr. Fulci’s work has always been uneven to me, lacking
the color that featured so prominently in Mario Bava’s work and the highly
stylized cinematic look that punctuates the best work of Dario Argento. Anyone
who saw this film during its theatrical exhibition on 42nd Street in 1984
probably never would have imagined that the film could look as good as it does
in the new 4K-remastered Blu-ray that Blue-Underground has just released, or
they were probably too drunk and stoned to even care. If you saw it on the
Vidmark VHS release, this new and completely uncut version reveals a film that
none of us have seen before. This transfer is reference quality and reveals
image nuances previously unseen, on a par with the fine work that
Blue-Underground has done previously on William Lustig’s Maniac (1981), another
gory slasher, with full 4K restoration. Any previous versions of the film on
home video pale in comparison to this new transfer.
The new three-disc Blu-ray contains many new extras,
which include:
A very cool lenticular sleeve cover that the Blu-ray case
fits into.
Disc One:
A full-length audio commentary by Troy Howarth who once
again provides a highly detailed and entertaining overview of the film at hand,
making no apologies for being a fan. Extremely insightful and highly
knowledgeable, Mr. Howarth points out interesting tidbits along the way and
allows the viewer to experience the film in a new light.
The Art of Killing (about 30 minutes in high definition,
2019) – This is an onscreen interview with Dardano Sacchetti, a prolific
screenwriter whose is probably best known to the horror film fans as the
screenwriter or story originator of The Cat O’Nine Tales (1971), Shock (1977), Zombie
(1979), City of the Living Dead (1980), The Beyond (1981), The House by the
Cemetery (1981), Demons (1986) and Demons 2 (1988). He speaks at length about
working with Mr. Fulci on a script about progeria, a disease that ages the
cells and tissues to such an extent that the victim dies by age 18. Anyone
remember Ralph Macchio in The Three Wishes of Billy Grier (1984)? He also
explains that Italian horror cinema always has a further ending, a double
ending, and a final ending. Highly entertaining raconteur.
Three Fingers of Violence (about 15 minutes in high
definition, 2019) is an onscreen interview with actor Howard Ross who plays
Mickey Scendella in the film. He recounts meeting Mr. Fulci at a dinner party
and auditioned for the film soon after. He also laughs about being mistaken for
Charles Bronson while filming in Times Square. Spoken in Italian with
non-removable and legible English subtitles.
The Second Victim (about 13 minutes in high definition,
2019) is an onscreen interview with actress Cinzia de Ponti who plays Rosie.
She was discovered after being named “Miss Italia†in a beauty contest. Spoken
in Italian with non-removable and legible English subtitles.
The Broken Bottle Murder (about 13 minutes in high
definition, 2019) is an onscreen interview with actress Zora Kerova who describes
working with Mr. Fulci on this scene, but not knowing that it required sex and
nudity until it was time to film. Spoken in Italian with non-removable and
legible English subtitles.
“I’m an Actress†(about 9 minutes in high definition,
2009) is an onscreen interview with actress Zora Kerova who describes working
with Mr. Fulci on her scene, and also her work with Bruno Mattei and Umberto
Lenzi. This is ported over from the Blue Underground single disc Blu-ray
release from 2009.
The Beauty Killer (about 23 minutes in high definition,
2019) is an onscreen, English language explanation of giallo films from critic
and author Stephen Thrower who explains that these films became more and more
violent for one simple reason: they want to push the envelope and show the
audience something that they haven’t seen yet in an effort to make more money.
Paint Me Blood Red (about 17 minutes in high definition,
2019) is my favorite extra because it introduces us to one of cinema’s unsung
heroes, movie poster artist Enzo Sciotti. This man has created some of the most
stunning and gorgeous artwork ever created for horror films. His work for Dario
Argento’s Phenomena (1985) beautifully captures the spirit of the film, while
his work for Paganini Horror (1989) is the only redeeming thing about that
film. Spoken in Italian with non-removable and legible English subtitles.
NYC Locations Then and Now (about 4 minutes in high
definition, 2009) compares the filming locations from 1981 to 2009 when the
comparisons were made. This is ported over from the Blue Underground single
disc Blu-ray release from 2009.
Theatrical Trailer
Poster and Still Gallery – while there are many images
presented here, I’m not sure if many of them appeared as lobby cards since they
depict graphic sex and violence. Granted, Europe is more liberal than the US,
and when I walked through Times Square for the first time in May 1980, I was
shocked by the explicit images on display when Friday the 13th was in release.
There is also a beautifully illustrated, 18-page booklet
containing an essay, Fulci Quacks Up: The Unrelenting Grimness of “THE NEW YORK
RIPPERâ€, which accompanies the set.
Disc Two:
This consists of a DVD that includes everything that the
Blu-ray offers.
Disc Three:
This consists of a 29-track compact disc of the film’s
original soundtrack album.
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BY TODD GARBARINI
The year 1976 was a phenomenal time for films
that went into production. George Lucas’s space opera, Star Wars began principal photography in March; Steven Spielberg,
fresh off the success of Jaws, was
given carte blanche to bring Close Encounters of the Third Kind to
the screen and began shooting in May; and Dario Argento, who became emboldened
by the financial success of his latest and arguably best film to date, Profundo Rosso (known in the U.S. as Deep Red), embarked upon Suspiria, a murder mystery involving a
dance school hiding in plain sight while housing a coven of witches, which
began filming in July. Horror author Clive Barker once described this supernatural
extravaganza as what you would imagine a horror film to be like if you weren’t allowed
to see it. I believe that this is a good description of what is unquestionably
one of the most frightening, entertaining and colorful horror films ever made. Suspiria was edited for its American
theatrical exhibition due to some graphic violence that many would have
considered shocking for its day. Distributor 20th Century Fox was
reportedly so embarrassed by the film that they created a subsidiary company,
International Classics, to release it three months after their phenomenally
successful Star Wars, another film
they had no faith in.
Suspiria opened in New York
on Friday, August 12, 1977 at the long-gone Criterion on 45th and
Broadway before branching out to additional theaters. It’s the first in a
trilogy concerning the nature of Death (Inferno
(1980) and The Mother of Tears (2007)
are the second and third parts, respectively). The film’s quad-syllabic title
quite understandably leaves those who attempt to say it tongue-tied (it’s
pronounced sus-PEER-ee-ah). The word itself
has its origins in Latin and roughly translates into “sighs†or “whispers†and
the film is based upon the writings of British essayist Thomas De Quincey. His
most famous work, Confessions of an
English Opium Eater, was published in 1822. Twenty-three years later he
published Suspiria de Profundis which
is Latin for “Sighs from the Depths†and is a collection of essays, the most
famous of which is Levana and Our Ladies
of Sorrow which Mr. Argento used as the source material for his
trilogy.
In Suspiria,
Suzy Bannion, played by doe-eyed Jessica Harper (who was Woody Allen’s
girlfriend at the time and passed on Annie
Hall because she wanted to go to Italy), arrives in Frieberg, Germany to
begin dance lessons at the famous Tanz Academie (the architecture is copied
from Haus zum Walfisch in Freiberg). From the film’s opening frames, we already
know that we are in uncharted territory as the images are bathed in diffused
primary colors. Upon her arrival
at the airport, things are already not what they seem. Once she leaves the
premises and the glass doors close behind her, she enters a fairy tale in the
form of an unusually violent thunderstorm. Hitching a ride from a taxi
driver played by Argento regular Fulvio Mingozzi (min-GOATS-see), who worked for the director no less than ten times
in both film and television episodes, she makes her way to the school (as a
side-note, eagle-eyed viewers can see the director’s reflection in the glass
partition in the taxi 3:31 minutes into the film and it lasts for two seconds.
He appears, with a large smile on his face, in the lower left-hand corner of
the screen).
Just as she arrives, a hysterical woman, Pat
Hingle (Eva Axen), appears on the school’s doorstep and makes an unintelligible
proclamation before bolting into the deluge-swept streets. Suzy carps with a
woman on the intercom, pleading for entry and refuge from the torrential rain. When
she’s denied, she re-enters the taxi and rides through the Black Forest,
catching a glimpse of Pat as she runs, attempting to make her way past the
trees. What could possibly have set her off on such a perilous journey?
Pat makes her way to her friend Sonia’s (Susanna Javicoli) apartment,
hesitant to disclose what she has come to learn about the school. In what is
considered Argento’s finest hour and the film’s most disturbing and celebrated
sequence, Pat is violently stabbed by some inhuman creature with hairy arms and
long black fingernails and is thrown through a stained-glass window, the shards
of which also kill Sonia. It’s been compared with the shower scene in Psycho (1960) for pure shock effect,
though this one is much more graphic.
The calm following the storm reveals a
strange faculty staff consisting of lead ballet teacher Ms. Tanner (Alida Valli),
headmistress Madame Blanc (Joan Bennett), pianist Daniel (Flavio Bucci), and
Pavlos (Giuseppe Transocchi) the handyman. Suzy is told by the headmistress
that one of their expelled students, Pat, was murdered by a madman the night
before. Wouldn’t that be enough to send one packing their bags? The same scenario
plays out for Jennifer Connelly in the director’s other macabre coming-of-age
horror film, Phenomena (1985), and the
information in that film is met with nothing more than a smile and silence. Unbeknownst
to Suzy, the school is a front for a coven of witches who hold black masses
within the massive building’s stealthy labyrinths. Her suspicions that all is
not right with the school become confirmed when people around her suddenly disappear
or are killed off. Like previous Argento protagonists, Suzy plays sleuth to
gain insight into the bizarre goings-on, especially the teachers’ concerted
effort to hide the directress’s presence from her. When she teams up with Sarah
(Stefania Casini) to find out more about one Helena Markos, more people begin
to die as Suzy learns of a shocking secret that lies behind an imperceptible
door.
Suspiria’s simple premise
permits Mr. Argento to stage some of the most shocking and elaborate death
sequences of his career, all performed in-camera (that is without the use of
opticals or blue-screen technology used later in post-production). The Italian
progressive rock band Goblin provides a phenomenal score that, unbelievably,
was composed before filming began and was played on the film’s soundstages
during shooting to maximize the effect on the performers. It’s an astonishing
concoction with shrieks, whispers and wails, which I always assumed to be
non-diegetic in nature, acting almost as a macabre precursor to the far more
relaxing Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response (ASMR) videos that have taken YouTube
by storm.
Mr. Argento has also put together an eclectic
cast, the bulk of whom are women. Joan Bennett, who appeared in Fritz Lang’s coincidentally
titled Secret Beyond the Door… with
Michael Redgrave (1947) as well as her stint on Dark Shadows, provides the proper amount of sinister air that the
film requires. Alida Valli is terrific as Miss Tanner, the “stern and surlyâ€
ballet teacher, arguably the most memorable in the cast. Jessica Harper, fresh
off her role as Phoenix in Brian DePalma’s wildly entertaining Phantom of the Paradise (1974), appears
naïve but turns out to be anything but as she goes to greater-than-usual
lengths to uncover The Big Secret.
Suspiria is unique in that it
was shot on Eastman Kodak film but printed using the now-defunct three-strip
Technicolor dye transfer process which divided the negative into three individual
color bands of red, green, and blue. By manipulating the intensities of these
primary colors both on the set and in the lab, cinematographer Luciano Tovoli
was able to create some truly horrific and stunning images. The set design is
garish, colorful and must be seen to be believed. The
color scheme seems to have been inspired by Walt Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (1937) and dance film aficionados
will likely also think of Emeric Pressburger and Michael Powell’s stunning 1948
technicolor film The Red Shoes and their follow-up, 1951’s The
Tales of Hoffman (George A. Romero’s favorite film), but the story seems inspired
by Chicho
Ibáñez-Serrador’s La Residencia, a terrific horror opus from 1970 which pits the borstal’s
headmistress, Senora Fourneau (played brilliantly by Lilli Palmer), against a
school of young women in need of reform. There is a predatory air about
Fourneau that carries over to Ms. Tanner in Suspiria.
A case might even be made that Ms. Tanner is a psychological cinematic
equivalent of the malevolent and sadistic Mrs. Wakehurst in Peter Walker’s House of Whipcord (1974). La Residencia has appeared under such
titles as The Finishing School, The Boarding School and here in the
States as The House That Screamed when
it was released on a double-bill with Anthony M. Lanza’s The Incredible 2-Headed Transplant in July 1971.
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