MEET HIM AND DIE (Italy/West Germany - 1976) Directed by Franco Prosperi. Written by Peter Berling, Antonio Cucca, Claudio Fragasso, Alberto Marras. Cast: Ray Lovelock, Martin Balsam, Elke Sommer, Riccardo Cucciolla, Ettore Manni, Heinz Domez, Ernesto Colli, Peter Berling. (Unrated, 94 mins)
Raro USA has done a fine job bringing cult classic 1970s poliziotteschi and other Eurocult gems to DVD and Blu-ray over the last few years, frequently in comprehensive, near Criterion-level packaging (their first box set of Fernando Di Leo crime films, featuring CALIBER 9, THE ITALIAN CONNECTION, THE BOSS, and RULERS OF THE CITY is absolutely essential). There have been stumbles along the way: a pressing error caused the entire run of Massimo Dallamano's THE SECRET OF DORIAN GRAY (1970) to be recalled, the DVD release of Di Leo's TO BE TWENTY (1978) had a glitch that causes it to skip the last chapter of the film, forcing you to go to the chapter selections to see the end of the movie, and their recent Blu-ray release of Umberto Lenzi's NIGHTMARE CITY (1980) has been knocked for its subpar transfer that doesn't even look as good as the decade-plus-old Anchor Bay DVD. You can't knock them all out of of the park, but their edition of MEET HIM AND DIE is an unmitigated disaster of shit-the-bed proportions.
The movie itself is fine--it's not the best polizia and it's not where one should start when exploring the subgenre, but it's an entertaining action thriller. The plot is filled with shootouts, double-crosses, and some nicely-done chase sequences. Massimo (Ray Lovelock of LIVE LIKE A COP, DIE LIKE A MAN) is busted for holding up a jewelry store and sent to prison. It's revealed very early that he's actually an undercover cop, ostensibly posing as a criminal to help orchestrate an escape for incarcerated mob boss Giulianelli (Martin Balsam), who's still overseeing his smuggling operation from the inside and the cops know there's bigger fish to catch. But Massimo's ultimate goal is to use Giulianelli to get to Perrone (Ettore Manni), who employs the two goons who shot and paralyzed his mother. From the action to the memorable score by Ubaldo Continiello to--if you watch the English track--the appearances of all the usual suspects in the dubbing world (Balsam--the same year he co-starred in ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN--dubs himself, while Lovelock is voiced by Ted Rusoff, and Elke Sommer turns up about an hour in and is dubbed by Pat Starke), MEET HIM AND DIE is a perfectly serviceable polizia. There's nothing new here, but fans will find a lot to enjoy.
That is, if they can get past the botched transfer. Whether it was Raro's doing or them just working with what they had, the DNR (digital noise reduction) here is off-the-charts. It's as bad as the infamous PREDATOR Blu-ray. In the long shots, it actually looks sort-of OK, but close-ups of the actors--and director Franco Prosperi (more on him in a bit) uses a lot of close-ups--look like they're coated in a waxy glaze, all lines and definition completely removed as everyone just has a smooth, lifeless appearance, surrounded by garish, overly-bright colors. All the grain has been removed, with a fake grain sort-of "hovering" over the image (Blue Underground's Blu-ray release of Dario Argento's THE CAT O'NINE TAILS is a horrific example of this), and it's most noticeable whenever Riccardo Cucciolla (as Massimo's boss) is on screen--watch how the designs on his loud sport jackets sort of move. Sure, there are some moments where it's not awful-looking, but for the most part, this is a horribly ugly transfer and indicative of everything people misunderstand about the concept of high-definition. This is not how movies should look. This is not how film looks, especially when it's one from the mid-1970s. It's anti-HD.
As if the transfer and the absurd levels of DNR weren't bad enough, Raro completely embarrasses itself with the accompanying booklet. There's an essay about the film by polizia expert Mike Malloy, who recently directed the documentary EUROCRIME, which looks at the genre and interviews virtually every still-living actor who appeared in them. Malloy obviously knows his shit, and his essay, as well as a video segment in the bonus features where he talks about the movie, the actors, and the subgenre itself, are nicely-done (I liked his description of the Italians latching on to what was popular--peplum, spaghetti westerns, crime movies--and "strip-mining" it until everyone was completely exhausted with it). But there's also a two-page bio of Prosperi and an accompanying filmography, and here lies the problem: as strange as it seems, there were two Franco Prosperi's working in Italian cinema from the 1960s to the 1980s. The MEET HIM AND DIE Prosperi was a genre and exploitation journeyman who dabbled in a little of everything over his mostly unexceptional career (007 ripoffs in the '60s, horror films in the '70s, and CONAN ripoffs in the '80s). The two-page bio is for the other Franco Prosperi, best known for co-directing, with Gualtiero Jacopetti, the MONDO CANE documentaries. The filmography listed after the bio? That's for the correct (MEET HIM AND DIE) Franco Prosperi. Now, I don't expect the general public to know (or care) that there are two very different Franco Prosperi's--I didn't know until a few years ago and even the most hardcore Eurotrash disciple has gotten them confused at some point in their travels. But shouldn't someone at Raro maybe not fallen asleep at the wheel? Was anyone paying attention? Was anyone in charge of proofreading or fact-checking? Did they even watch the video that Malloy shot for them? Because he specifically mentions the "two different Franco Prosperi's" phenomenon and he specifically says "The director of MEET HIM AND DIE is not the guy who made MONDO CANE." Can you imagine Criterion ever making a gaffe that egregious? Did anyone not find it odd that the bio of Prosperi made no mention of the film in which it's packaged? Malloy is the only credited author of the booklet, but it's obvious from his video segment that he didn't write the bio, since he knows it's not the correct Prosperi. So, between the shitty picture quality and the careless packaging, is there any reason at all to get behind this tire fire of a Blu-ray release? The relatively obscure MEET HIM AND DIE (which may have had some brief US exposure under the title RISKING) is far from essential, but even the worst polizia deserves better than what it gets here: a release that does nothing for the film, the genre, either Franco Prosperi, or Raro USA's sinking reputation. This whole package is riddled with the kind of bush-league fuck-ups that make you hesitant to purchase anything else they release in the future. Get it together, guys.
THE DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN aka SNAPSHOT, aka ONE MORE MINUTE (Australia - 1979)
One of the more egregious examples of misleading advertising from the grindhouse glory days, THE DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN was the 1980 US retitling of the 1979 Australian import SNAPSHOT, complete with poster art that didn't make any overt claims, but arguably implied that it was somehow connected to John Carpenter's HALLOWEEN (1978). I'm sure audiences became openly hostile by the 20-minute mark, as it obviously has nothing whatsoever to do with HALLOWEEN or Halloween, but taken on its own terms (or, as SNAPSHOT, which is the actual title on both versions on Scorpion Releasing's new DVD--more on that in a bit), it's a compellingly odd character piece that's light on thrills and chills, but does a good job of establishing a palpable sense of unease throughout. It also has a believable performance by Sigrid Thornton (THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER) as young, naive hairdresser Angela. Stuck in a dead-end job with a domineering mother (Julia Blake), a bratty little sister (Jacqui Gordon), and ex-boyfriend Daryl (Vincent Gil) who follows her around in an ice cream truck, Angela is whisked away from her dreary life by bitch-on-wheels cover girl Madeline (Chantal Contouri), who gets her a modeling job. Now with money and independence, Angela is meeting all sorts of new people and finding her way through a new world. And that ice cream truck is still following her.
YouTube fan montage featuring the film's theme song "Angela," by Sherbet!
Co-written by Australia-based American expat Everett De Roche (LONG WEEKEND, PATRICK, ROAD GAMES) and directed by Simon Wincer (later to helm projects as varied as LONESOME DOVE, QUIGLEY DOWN UNDER, HARLEY DAVIDSON AND THE MARLBORO MAN, and FREE WILLY), SNAPSHOT is a strange little film that drops its heroine in an unrelentingly cruel world where she's used, abused, and manipulated by everyone (even her mother drops by her new place and steals some money out of her dresser drawer), and yet, she's curiously unfazed by a lot of it (she finds a pig's head in her bed at one point, and goes on about her day, assuming Daryl put it there). This film is often lumped in with the Ozploitation scene (primarily because of producer Antony I. Ginnane), but there's not much here in the way of exploitative elements. In fact, I'm not entirely sure what Wincer and the writers really wanted to accomplish here, but it's consistently engrossing and you're never quite certain where it's headed. Coupled with an ending that might leave more questions than answers, the only thing one can say with 100% certainty is that whatever title it's going by, it's not a slasher film. Scorpion's DVD is really a thing of beauty: the 2.35 anamorphic presentation of the 92-minute US cut is quite impressive and a major improvement on the blurry, washed-out print that aired on Turner Classic Movies a couple of years ago. I think that faded print is the transfer used for the second version on the DVD: the 101-minute Australian cut that's presented in a vastly inferior 1.78 anamorphic transfer, and most of the additional footage seems to consist of Angela having a much longer confrontation with her mother, a scene of her roommates watching the Ginnane-produced PATRICK on TV, Madeline and Angela walking in on a couple having sex, and more screen time for a shamelessly mugging nightclub performer who should've been cut altogether. It's this longer version that has a commentary track with Ginnane and Scorpion horror hostess Katarina Leigh Waters. Ginnane is personable enough, and covers most of the bases, but Waters really doesn't do a great job of keeping the discussion going (though to her credit, she is improving on her earlier commentary moderation efforts), usually chiming with an "Mmm hmm," to keep Ginnane talking, which I suppose is fine. It's not the best commentary you'll ever hear (and it takes a full hour for either of them to inevitably mention that Quentin Tarantino is a fan of the film), but Ozploitation devotees will find it interesting. The nine extra minutes are superfluous and the film not only looks better in its shorter version, but it's paced better as well. Also of note for trash fans: nearly every female cast member except for Controuri spent time on the Australian women-in-prison cult TV series PRISONER: CELL BLOCK H. (R, 92 mins/101 mins)
WAVES OF LUST (Italy - 1975)
Raro USA brings us the first official US home video release of this early erotic thriller from future CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST director Ruggero Deodato. Ostensibly inspired by Roman Polanski's 1962 breakthrough KNIFE IN THE WATER, WAVES OF LUST is one of Deodato's dullest films, and despite the director's claims that it's a thriller above all, there's not much in the way of suspense or drama. If you didn't think it was possible that constant sex and nudity could be boring as hell, then let WAVES OF LUST show you how it's done. Irem (Al Cliver) and Barbara (Silvio Dionisio, Deodato's wife at the time) meet George (John Steiner) and Silvia (Elizabeth Turner), and are invited for a cruise on George's yacht. They do this despite thinking George may have murdered a business associate with whom they'd earlier seen him arguing. Of course, it doesn't take long for George to reveal himself as a psychotic, controlling, alcoholic douchebag who routinely physically and psychologically abuses Silvia. This prompts her to seek sexual solace with both Irem and Barbara, while Barbara finds herself turned on by George, who does little aside from ruin everyone's vacation, smack Silvia around, and brag about how rich and powerful he is. Only in the last 15 minutes does Deodato decide to make this a "thriller," and it's as unsatisfying as the plentiful but profoundly unerotic sex scenes, the nadir of which has Cliver doing a head stand (a recurring motif that, like the rest of the film, goes nowhere) while the almost constantly nude Turner stands and passionately kisses his ankle and calf, as Deodato provides us with some gratuitous Al Cliver back acne. Joe D'Amato probably could've done wonders with this, but Deodato's made much better films, starting with his next, 1976's awesome LIVE LIKE A COP, DIE LIKE A MAN. Written by Gianlorenzo Battaglia and Lamberto Bava. Deodato, Bava, and Cliver appear in a 17-minute documentary on the DVD, and there's also some deleted scenes that show some additional shots in a few of the sex scenes. Raro's DVD offers both Italian-language and English-dubbed audio, and is 1.85 anamorphic and looks generally acceptable. WAVES OF LUST is worth a watch for Deodato fans and Italian exploitation obsessives, but even they won't get much out of this catatonic, sleep-inducing softcore porn travelogue. (Unrated, 88 mins)
PLOT OF FEAR aka E TANTA PAURA aka TOO MUCH FEAR (Italy, 1976)
Directed by Paolo Cavara. Written by Bernardino Zapponi, Paolo Cavara, Enrico Oldoini. Cast: Corinne Clery, Michele Placido, Eli Wallach, Tom Skerritt, John Steiner, Jacques Herlin, Quinto Parmeggiani, Eddy Fay, Sarah Ceccarini, Cecilia Polizzi, Claudio Zucchet, Greta Vajant, Mary Ruth League. (Unrated, 95 mins)
Raro USA has done a nice job with the restoration of this obscure late-period giallo from director Paolo Cavara, best known for 1971's Dario Argento-inspired BLACK BELLY OF THE TARANTULA. Long available in bootleg circles, PLOT OF FEAR (original Italian title: E TANTA PAURA) never made it to US theaters, nor did it ever turn up on home video, so this DVD marks the film's belated first official American release. Scripted by Cavara, Enrico Oldoini, and DEEP RED co-writer and regular Fellini collaborator Bernardino Zapponi, PLOT OF FEAR gets off to a clunky, confusing start and veers wildly between giallo and poliziotteschi, with some liberal doses of trangressive softcore porn. It's not a great film being rediscovered, but it's certainly an interesting artifact, not just for its rampant, cynical misanthropy (the rich are perverted and corrupt, men are petty and insecure, women are either vacuous models or dead hookers), but also for Eurotrash devotees, with its strange cast, terrible English dubbing (the original and better-preserved Italian audio track is also included), pervasive sleaze, and an infectiously catchy score by Daniele Patucchi, which is screaming to be covered by a present-day stoner rock band.
Opening scene. Credits and kickass music start around 1:30 into the clip
Bad-tempered Inspector Lomenzo (Michele Placido) is dealing with several violent murders. Heads have been bashed in, and bodies set ablaze. One guy is even shot in the head while being interviewed on a talk show. Pictures from a childrens book are left with the victims. The victims are all wealthy and members of "Wildlife Friends," which imports wild animals caught on African safaris but is really a front for diamond smuggling and an underground sex club at Villa Hoffmann. All of the murders are connected to the mysterious death of underage prostitute Rosa (Sarah Ceccarini) several years earlier at Villa Hoffmann, after a wild night that involved animated, surreal porn films, group sex, forced under-the-table fellatio, and an attempt to feed Rosa to a caged tiger. Someone is out to avenge Rosa's death, and is brutally offing the rich, decadent perverts one by one.
One of the suspects is Rosa's pimp (Claudio Zucchet), who, in this scene, gets picked up for questioning and bolts from the police car, instigating a brief but amazing foot chase through what has to be the busiest intersection in Milan. This brilliant bit looks as chaotic, awkward, and unchoreographed as a real pursuit would look (does that guy intend to tumble down the steps the way he does?), and I have serious doubts that the drivers of these cars knew that a movie was being shot.
Meanwhile, Lomenzo becomes romantically involved with Jeanne (Corinne Clery, fresh off the controversial, X-rated THE STORY OF O), a prostitute and part-time model who was also at Villa Hoffman the night of Rosa's death. As the murders continue, Lomenzo is torn between his relationship with Jeanne and her possible connection to the murders, and he also finds himself tangling with Riccio (Eli Wallach), an eccentric, chocolate-addicted private investigator who seems to have all of Milan under surveillance, hired by the surviving deviants to find out who's trying to kill them.
John Steiner as Hoffmann
Placido is a fine actor, but he doesn't seem well cast here. With its periodic delvings into polizia territory and with Lomenzo's ill temper, PLOT OF FEAR really could've benefitted from a Fabio Testi or especially a Maurizio Merli in the starring role. Placido just doesn't come off as intimidating enough. Eurocult vet John Steiner also appears as the owner of Villa Hoffmann. But the Strangest Casting Honors of PLOT OF FEAR (also known as TOO MUCH FEAR, and apparently released in Sweden, in what must set a new standard for "something lost in the translation," as BLOODY PEANUTS) go to visiting Americans Wallach and Tom Skerritt (yes, THAT Tom Skerritt), who has three brief scenes, wearing an entirely too-small leather jacket as Lomenzo's boss. Neither Wallach nor Skerritt stuck around to dub their performances, so they aren't heard on the English track (Skerritt is dubbed by the ubiquitous Ted Rusoff). For actors as recognizable as these two to be revoiced by others--especially with Wallach's gravelly tone--is more than slightly jarring. Other English dubbing regulars heard throughout include Carolynn De Fonseca dubbing one of the Wildlife Friends, Pat Starke dubbing Clery, and Frank von Kuegelgen dubbing Steiner. I'm not sure who's revoicing Placido and Wallach, but they sound very familiar. Wallach actually has a sizable role, but given his brief screen time, I doubt Skerritt was on the set for more than a couple of days. He had small roles in two other Italian projects around this time (the film LA MADAMA and the Italian TV miniseries ORIGINS OF THE MAFIA), so it's possible he knocked them all out in one trip and made a working vacation out of it.
"Buon giorno, Tom. I'm Michele, nice to meet you. Two quick questions:
why are you in this movie and exactly what is that you're wearing?"
"Italy? All expenses paid? Lots of naked women in
the movie? And I don't even have to hang
around to dub myself? Deal!"
Raro supplies plenty of extras, including a subtitled interview with Placido, who talks about the making of PLOT OF FEAR and shares warm memories of working with Wallach. There's also interviews with co-writer Oldoini, as well as Pietro Cavara, son of the late director (Paolo Cavara died in 1982). The 1.85:1 anamorphic transfer looks great and has to be a significant upgrade from Raro's original, non-anamorphic Italian release some years back. Raro USA's packaging mentions "new and improved English subtitles," but Wallach's character ("Pietro Riccio") is inexplicably referred to as "Peter Struwwel" in the English subtitles, even though "Riccio" is clearly audible on both audio tracks. This was apparently an issue with the original Italian DVD release. In lieu of the liner notes they used to provide, Raro USA gives us an appreciation of the film by Fangoria editor Chris Alexander, in the form of a PDF file. He can't explain BLOODY PEANUTS, either.
