Death Walks at Midnight
Ercoli's brighter, faster Death Walks. Nieves Navarro sees a murder and nobody buys it.
Italian murder mysteries where the plot exists to get you from one killing to the next.
Giallo is Italian for yellow, after the covers of the cheap crime paperbacks Mondadori started publishing in 1929. The films borrowed the name and almost nothing else.
A giallo is built around murder set pieces. There is a mystery, and it is usually resolved in the last four minutes by a character explaining a childhood trauma, but the mystery is scaffolding. What the films care about is the killing itself: a figure in black leather gloves, a razor or a shard of glass, a victim who is usually a beautiful woman, and a camera far more interested in choreography than in the corpse.
Mario Bava's The Girl Who Knew Too Much (1963) is the usual starting point. His Blood and Black Lace (1964) set the pattern that stuck: a fashion house, a masked killer, six murders, and a plot nobody involved seems invested in. The cycle went international after Dario Argento's The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970), and by 1972 Italian studios were shipping roughly one a fortnight.
The American slasher took the killer's POV, the set-piece structure and the elaborate deaths, then dropped the colour, the architecture and the indifference to logic. Whether that was a loss depends entirely on which of those you were there for.
Blood and Black Lace for the template, Deep Red for the best version of it, Torso for how strange the cycle got by 1973.
Ercoli's brighter, faster Death Walks. Nieves Navarro sees a murder and nobody buys it.
Barely a murder mystery. A slow psychological collapse, and superb.
Ercoli's best. Structurally cleverer than most of the cycle.
Spanish, incoherent, and gleefully stupid. 'Bastard! Bastard!'
Narrated by a paralysed man presumed dead. Unusual and very good.
Martino at his most efficient. Nobody wastes a frame.
The point where the black-and-white krimi tips over into full-colour giallo delirium.
The killer paralyses you first so you feel it. A first-rank giallo nobody name-checks.
A family curse, a killer in a red cloak, and a legend that kills every hundred years.
Best title in the genre. Poe adaptation with Edwige Fenech and a black cat.
The Martino/Fenech formula, arriving fully formed. Cut and retitled Blade of the Ripper in the US.
Satanic paranoia in Swinging London. Edwige Fenech is excellent.