Luciano Ercoli, 1972
Starring: Nieves Navarro, Simon Andreu, Carlo Gentili,
Claudine Lange
Valentina, a model, agrees to be a research subject for
her boyfriend Gio, a journalist interested in studying the effects of
hallucinogens. She takes the drug (called HDS, perhaps an obvious stand-in for
LSD, unless I missed something in translation) and he records and photographs
her experience – but is unaware that she has witnessed a man wearing a spiked
glove beat a woman to death. Gio doesn’t believe her and publishes the article,
not keeping her identity anonymous like her promised, and nearly ruins her
career in the process. Meanwhile, Valentina believes that the killer has begun
to stalk her, but no one, not even the police, will believe her claims.
A loose follow up to Death
Walks on High Heels, Death Walks at Midnight is the third of Luciano
Ercoli’s films to involve screenwriter Ernesto Gastaldi and actors Nieves
Navarro (Ercoli’s wife), Simon Andreu, Claudine Lange, and Carlo Gentili. I
have to admit that out of the three (including Forbidden
Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion), I enjoyed this last film the most. It
avoids the hysterical, panicking heroine of Forbidden
Photos and has a more up-to-date sense of style than the ‘60s-included Death Walks on High Heels, which is as
much a heist film as it is a giallo. This last entry has plenty of goofy
moments, but the script is just wacky enough to be effective.
Unlike
the earlier two, this has a lot more of what I would describe as key giallo
elements. The protagonist witnesses a murder and is threatened by the killer,
has a love interest who assistants (albeit reluctantly) in solving the mystery,
and there are artists and models involved. And like Death Walks on High Heels, after a certain point I honestly couldn’t
tell you what the hell is going on with the plot, thanks to numerous red
herrings, plot twists, and other nonsequitors. The film’s central murder
weapon, a grim-looking glove with metal claws, references Bava’s Blood
and Black Lace, as well as German
krimi films like Creature
with the Blue Hand. The early tripping sequence – one of the film’s
best scenes – adds a certain amount of sleaze and through Navarro is a model
(rather than a stripper, like in Death
Walks on High Heels), Ercoli finds plenty of opportunities to showcase her
physical assets.
Refreshingly,
her Valentina is a good example of a tormented female protagonist who doesn’t
become hysterical 10 minutes into the film and holds her own for quite some
time – she even throws a rock through the window of her no-good boyfriend as
revenge for him possibly ruining her career. Her solid sense of confidence and
self-worth leads her to believe that she really has witnessed a murder and that
the killer is after her – even though her boyfriend and the police are skeptical.
And though she occasionally succumbs to frustration, such as one scene where
she is abandoned in on a hostile country estate by a woman she believed was an
ally, she doesn’t sink into madness as quickly as some of the other films in
this loose genre (such as Ercoli’s own Forbidden
Photos). Nearly everyone in the film is selfish and opportunistic,
especially Valentina, but she’s somehow likable despite this and even
contributes to the film’s welcome sense of humor that keeps the overall tone
fairly light.
Death Walks at Midnight also has the most robust conclusion out of all three films, including a knockdown, drag
out fight in Valentina’s apartment that extends to the roof of her building.
Simon Andreu, who was in his fair share of Italian and Spanish giallo/horror
films, would not have been out of place in an Italian crime film. This is
perhaps his best role in an Ercoli film and while the film’s first act belongs
to Navarro, he manages to steal the concluding scenes. Unfortunately the middle
lags a bit, though every conceivable giallo subplot is thrown into the mix,
including drug smuggling, a sojourn to a mental hospital, and an unstable
boyfriend who is also a talented sculptor. Keep an eye out for some hilariously
costumed drug dealers, looking as stereotypical as possible. And speaking of costumes, though Navarro isn’t given anything as zany as what
she wears in the first film, she does get to spend a night on the town while
wearing what seems to be a metal wig.
Though this certainly isn’t a giallo
masterpiece, Death Walks at Midnight is
a hell of a lot of fun and manages to break out of some genre stereotypes on
one hand, while playing them up on the other. Unfortunately, as of now, it’s hard to get ahold of. A couple of years
ago No Shame released a
lovely, three-disc box set of both of Ercoli’s “Death Walks” films and a disc of prolific composer Stelvio Cipriani’s
music for both films. Right now it’s highly out of print and is quite
expensive, but hopefully someone will release a nice Blu-ray box set with these
two and Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion.
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