Paranoia

Paranoia
Directed by: Umberto Lenzi
Italy/France/Spain, 1970
Thriller, 94min

Wrapping up the loose trilogy of Jet-Set thrillers starting with Così dolce… così perversa (So Sweet… So Perverse) and Orgasmo, both 1969, the series comes to an end with Carroll Baker in her third flick for Umberto Lenzi. The suave, mordant and enthralling Paranoia.

Once again relying on Boileau-Narcejac’s novel Celle qui n’était plus (The Woman who Was) which also inspired Henri-George Clouzot’s Les Diabolique 1955, Hitchcock’s Vertigo 1958, not to mention a shit load of other Euro Thrillers including Lenzi’s two previous instalments in the “trilogy “, Paranoia may just be one of the finest adaptations to be inspired by that story and previous movies. Building not only a destructive threesome, the team of writers – including Bruno Di Geronimo (Gianfranco Mingozzi’s Flavia, la monaca musulmana (Flavia, the Heretic)) 1974. Marie Claire Solleville, who also wrote on Orgasmo, and Marcello Cosica who participated on one of my all-time fave zombie flicks, Jorge Grau’s Non si deve profanare il sonno dei morti (Let Sleeping Corpses Lie) 1974 and the screenplay to Mario Bava’s La maschera del demonio (Mask of Satan) 1960, put a twist on the story that actually had me going off track a few times. Which was surprising, unexpected and highly entertaining.

Helen [Carroll Baker] is a filthy rich, jet setting race-car driver who belts prestigious vehicles around the tracks at deadly speeds. After a somewhat serious accident she’s put in hospital all banged and bruised. She may be suffering from slight amnesia, this version is in Italian without subs, so I’m not with it all the way during the set up, but I’m going with the amnesia thread as that works better for the movie. Anyways she’s discharged from hospital and goes to rest along side her ex-husband Maurice [Jean Sorel] and his new sugar momma Constance [Anna Proclemer], who mysteriously invited her there to recuperate at their residence. The atmosphere is tense and the threesomes don’t quite know how to approach each other in this somewhat awkward scenario. Despite being divorced, Maurice still makes moves at Helen, and an effective flashback showing Helen and Maurice back at the breaking point of their relationship – a beautiful slow-mo scene where Maurice wrestles a gun out of Helen’s hand, which somewhat supports the amnesia theory as she wouldn’t be there if she’d recalled the bad ending.

After establishing what we suspect is the set up – Helen and Maurice wanting to get back together and Constance being in the way, there’s the obligatory scene of Carroll Baker in the shower peeked upon by not one, but two characters, and the first of several sudden plot twists. Constance starts to flirt with Helen, and there’s a fantastic scene of Helen trapped in a seductive game of footsie where both Constance and Maurice are working her legs and feet. Some nights later when Maurice comes home drunk, Constance suggests sinister plan to Helen, which would see her assist Constance in the murder of most likely cheating bastard Maurice. This also evokes flashbacks of happy times when Maurice and Helen where still in love, and it makes for a neat twist as it see’s Baker slowly falling into a state of disorder as she’s torn between her love and hate for Maurice. There’s a couple of classic deceptive moments as we now are lead to believe that Constance and Helen are going to off Maurice, but when push comes to shove… Obviously there’s a last minute spin and Helen doesn’t have courage to harpoon Maurice, and things take a completely different turn.

With Constance "out of the way", it looks as Maurice and Helen are safe on route to getting it all back together again, but… and there’s always a but, their happiness is threatened when an attorney friend of Constance, who always has his movie camera with him, starts to ask questions about accident that took Constance life. The suspicion and persecution starts to drive Helen round the bend – which to be honest has been done three times by lenzi and Baker at this time – and to make things worse, Constance daughter Susan [Marina Coffa] arrives and wants’ to know what happened to her mother... and finds her mother's husband being intimate with his ex wife!

It’s quite apparent that Umberto Lenzi started toying with the sadism that would become something of a signature trait of his here. There’s a lot of drawn out moments of mental torture like waiting for a corpse to be emerged from the sea, possible evidence on a reel of home movie, and constant suspicious stares. It all comes together wonderfully as editor Enzo Alabiso draws out the edits to the maximum, creating some immensely tense moments. It’s no wonder that Helen slowly goes insane considering the sadistic mind games that are played at her expense. Much like in previous instalments.

Anyways, back to the flick, where Susan wanders the same house as Helen and Maurice, after all it is her mother Constance house, and stats her own investigation into the mysterious accident that supposedly took her mothers life. Helen who in-between bouts of frustration and paranoia takes to snogging and shagging Maurice to keep her mind off the guilt that torments her, still has a harrowing surprise, shock and twist sequence left before the movie comes to it’s closure.

A common trait for all three movies in the “trilogy” is that cinematographer Guglielmo Mancori has something of a fetish for mirrors and composing frames within the frame. It’s not a bad thing, quite the opposite, as it treats the audience to some fantastic moments and at least once in each movie there’s a splendid illusion that a dead character is in fact alive. Something that lies close to the main device of these three movies – who is fooling who, and more than often with a rather cynical dark ending. It’s also noteworthy that Aristide Massaccesi (Joe D’Amato) worked as Mancori’s camera operator on Paranoia, just a few years before he started directing movies of his own.

Being a Spanish/French/Italian co-production, Antionio Ramírez – who edited several Leon Klimovsky & Paul Naschy flicks – accompanied Enzo Albasio in the editing. But that editing is still as ferocious as ever, and goes hand in glove with Mancori’s superb cinematography. Much of the same hard, almost violent editing style that was found in Orgasmo, and later in Il cotello di ghiaccio (The Knife of Ice) 1972, is seen here.

Gregorio Garcia Segura’s score (directed by Piero Umiliani) is groovy and sounds more like a cheaper companion part to Orgasmo than anything else. It even goes as far as reusing the rock act Weiss and the Airdales performing Just Tell Me once again in a club setting much like the one in Orgasmo.

Paranoia neatly wraps up the loose trilogy and sees some interesting traits evolve from the suite. The three movies showcase a progression of Umberto Lenzi traits that he’d later push further with the thrillers and several Gialli to follow. It’s also a treat to see Carroll Baker and Jean Sorel teamed up again as Paranoia with Romolo Guerrieri’s Il dolce corpo di Deborah (The Sweet Body of Deborah) 1968 are the only two movies they starred in together. Umberto Lenzi would follow Paranoia with a seedy sexploitation thriller – Un posto ideale per uccidere (Oasis of Fear) 1971 before starting off his fascinating string of fascinating Gialli that would definitely have him make his mark on the genre scene.

Image:
2.40:1 Original aspect ratio (16x9 enhanced)

Audio:
Dolby Digital 2.0 Mono, Italian dialogue. No subtitles

Extras:
None.

Here's some freaky opening titles with some suave music for you to enjoy.

Orgasmo

Orgasmo
Directed by: Umberto Lenzi
Italy/France, 1969
Mystery/Thriller, 91min

Umberto baby – what a trip! As customary I’ll start by saying it again, stick Make them Die Slowly back in it’s case, and seek out the older Umberto Lenzi Gialli and thrillers, because they are some really excellent movies back there that give a better insight into the arts and crafts of that fantastic director.

Lenzi’s career more or less follows the trail of many other great genre directors. He started out way back in the fifties when he used to write critical essays on film in magazines and newspapers whilst he was attending school with the plan of becoming a lawyer. He also penned several adventure and detective stories under a different name. The obvious step to take after completing school and realising that he held a passion for cinematic storytelling led him to landing a job as assistant director on Renzo Merusi’s anti-communist movie Apocalisse sul fiume Giallo (Last train to Shanghai) 1960 starring sexy Swedish export Anita Ekberg.

Following his directorial debut with a pompous period piece – pompous in a good way that is – Le avventure di Mary Read (Queen of the Seas) 1961. From there on he busted onto the scene with a string of Spaghetti Westerns, period pieces, action thrillers, sword and sandal adventures before he rekindled with that genre he’d been so fond of previously – the mystery genre. He did this with a loose trilogy all based on the themes of deception, double-crossing and death. Orgasmo (Paranoia) 1969, Così dolce… così perversa (So Sweet… So Perverse) 1969 and Paranoia (A Quiet Place to Kill) 1970. See some knob somewhere decided that Orgasmo should be called Paranoia which screws things up for that later movie doesn't it, and don't be misled by the title, Orgasmo isn't a screw movie, it's a genuine mystery thriller.

Orgasmo starts off the trilogy of mystery, and also sees the first of four collaborations between Lenzi and actress Carroll Baker. She would go on to star in the following two and the later early Giallo Il coltello di ghiaccio (The Knife of Ice) 1972. Lenzi show’s that he completely understands that there’s no need to waste valuable time on exposition and starts off with Kathryn West returning to Rome after her husband has suddenly died in a freak car accident – there’s no pointless funeral and wishy washy going on, but instead he cuts right to the chase and starts it all off. Some time is spent on establishing Kathryn and her world, her close friend Brion Sanders [Tino Carraro] who deals with all the paperwork following husband Robert’s death and Teresa [Lilla Brigone] who runs the mansion. A soon as we know the setting, Peter Donovan [Lou Castel] makes his entrance. Honking his horn and shouting aloud it’s a fair bet that he’s the antithesis of all Robert once was and it’s no wonder that Kathryn is drawn in by his rough charm and arrogant frankness.

But as soon as Kathryn find’s happiness, there’s going to be something negative to shake that foundation of pleasure. This comes in the shape of the late Robert’s relatives who don’t take to fondly to the young wife he once had and a bickery bitch fest is on the way. Luckily for Kathryn she has the trusty Brion at her side to pick her up when she faints. A rather innocent and deceptive subplot is set in motion when Brion starts to vaguely express his emotions towards Kathryn. But, and there’s always a but, Kathryn is all about her new young stud Peter who at the most unexpected moment surprises Kathryn with the arrival of his sister Eva [Colette Descombes].

From here on the movie takes a plunge into subtle and lusty exploration, there’s a delicate, provocative and suggestive eroticism between the three characters which slowly shifts into a sadistic deconstruction of Kathryn’s mental state.

In the last act, Kathryn uses all her strength to break free from the now abusive couple and certainly put’s up a great fight, but weakened both mentally and physically from long sessions of drink and drugs this is one battle she appears to be loosing. Never the less, Lenzi and co-writers Ugo Moretti and Marie Claire Solleville have a series of surprising twists and shocks up their sleeves before the movie finally comes to it’s crashing climax.

The editing style of Enzo Alabiso (wonder if he's related to Eugenio Alabiso?) is evident and a vital component of the movie. It moves rapidly and forcefully without taking unnecessary breathers that would have slowed down the pacing of the piece. Lenzi would use the talents of Albiso on several movies to follow. So keep your eyes on the screen because Orgasmo moves fast. Adding to the determined forward movement of the piece is cinematographer Guglielmo Mancori’s effective bag of tricks. Orgasmo is riddled with delicate dolly moves, fast swoosh pans and crash zooms to corner in the vital moments – most often focusing on Carroll Baker’s various facial expressions. Mancori and Lenzi would work together on at least seven more movies and Macori would go on to shoot some great genre pieces before calling it a day at the end of the eighties.

There’s the score. A vibrating and quirky score by the majestic Piero Umiliani who you know from such great pieces as Luigi Scattini’s Svezia, inferno e paradiso (Sweden Heaven and Hell) 1968, Mario Bava’s 5 bambole per la luna d’agosto (Five Dolls for an August Moon) 1970 and Corrado Farina’s Baba Yaga 1973 – which also starred Baker in a leading part. The score starts of very suave and quirky, but develops alongside the tone of the movie, the darker the movie gets and the deeper Kathryn falls into her mental decent.

The vocal piece of the movie Fate had Planned it so sung by Lidia MacDonald (the Scottish born singer who also sings on the Sweden, Heaven and Hell album - a must if you don't already have it) is used rather sparsely and holds a wonderful cynical mood that fits the movie, the more rockier track Just Tell Me performed by Weiss and the Airdales is the one that sticks out, but with reason, as it’s used several times to mark a rift between the very young Paul and Eve and the middle aged Kathryn.

An interesting final note on Orgasmo can be found in the fact that the Italian version differs from the American version. The ending of the American version brings a satisfying justice to all ending, but leaves certain valuable information out of the conclusion. Where as the original Italian ending stays closer to that cynicism that we all love about Italian genre cinema and ties in with the references to Robert’s sudden death in that car accident which is mentioned on several occasions. Without the conclusion to this important arc, the referents seem odd and out of place, and rather posing the question what happened to Robert? Well the answer, as told in the Italian version, is that Kathryn isn’t quite the hapless victim that she seems, but rather the initiator of an previous scheme outside the main narrative to claim the entire will and estates of Robert for herself. His death makes her a terribly wealthy widow! I can’t tell you why the decision to change Kathryn's character was made, but perhaps it was in a move to make her a more empathetic victim rather than a cold hearted and complex villain. Lack of dimension and polarisation has always been a favoured trait in American cinema so I’d guess that’s why. Also the Italian version is a preferred piece as it also has a lot more of the sensuality and nudity that comes with the blooming relationship between Paul and Kathryn and later Eve, which the American version exorcises on at least three occasions. We can’t have our empathetic victim being a sexual predator, enjoying both straight and lesbian sex can we, because we all know that bad girls go to hell and we have to keep it easy to follow…

Orgasmo is a riveting movie, which definitely demands that someone salvage it from poor quality copies and re-releases it in a pristine version because it’s a true gem that most certainly will find a new audience. It’s high on entertainment value, effective and still has a decent surprise ending even though there’s an endless amount of movies been made in the same niche both before and after this one. But if you are looking to explore early Umberto Lenzi, the mystery trilogy is an excellent place to start before following the path of evolution towards the splendid Gialli to follow. Just make sure to enjoy the Italian version not the American one will you.

So Sweet… So Perverse

So Sweet… So Perverse
Original title: Così dolce… così perversa
Directed by: Umberto Lenzi
Italy/France/West Germany, 1969
Thriller, 88min

For each Umberto Lenzi interview I see in documentaries, supplement material or on stuff like Mike Baronas' excellent Paura: Lucio Fulci Remembered Vol1, I get the feeling that he’s becoming (or perhaps is already) something of a Gene Simmons of the Italian genre-flick scene. There’s an ”I invented that, I was first” “I’m the prime innovator” tone to him – not that I’m going to argue him – it’s just that I’m always amused by people who claim to have invented, shaped and broke the mould for so many various areas. Just like Gene Simmons, who still to this day can’t see that the hard metal he thinks they invented was only makeup and disco at it’s worst.

Never the less, where Kiss music is complete tripe and could possibly only appeal to ten year old kids who didn’t have their own identity during the seventies and never once interested me no matter how hard I tried to see what’s supposedly so great about them, Umberto Lenzi did indeed stand amongst the forerunners of Italian genre cinema, and on many occasions did try out new terrain. It’s ironic that he’s so strongly associated to those gut munchers and tacky zombie flicks (not that there’s anything wrong with them) because I still seem to find myself becoming more and more impressed by his Gialli, and has a hard time forgiving myself for never quite taking the time to check out these impressive pieces back in the day.

But back in the day meant waiting almost a month for Greek Ex-rentals to fall through the letterbox, or gambling with Dutch imports or trading umpteenth generation copies with your mates and rarely stretching far enough to find these rare delights, but sticking close to the good old gut munchers and gore fests that initially drew me into the world of Italian genre cinema. Thank god for DVD and Internet traders, making all these fascinating films available in excellent or at least something that resonates as third-generation VHS dupes once again. It’s a thrill to settle down on the couch and get into a piece of forty-year-old Italian cinema for the first time.

Like many of the titles that get sold off as Gialli, Umberto Lenzi’s So Sweet... So Perverse is unquestionably not a Giallo. And even though is has a great title, it’s neither sweet nor perverse. But it is a pretty entertaining little movie that stays safely inside the thriller sphere and comes off more like an extended twist on the Boileau-Narcejac novel Celle qui n’était plus (The Woman who Was). Yes just like Henri-Georges Clouzot’s masterpiece Les Diaboliques 1955 and Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo 1958 and many, many more. Which makes Jean-Louis Trintignant’s choice of doing this movie odd as he’d starred in Giulio Questi’s La morte ha fatto l’uovo (Death Laid an Egg) 1968, a movie which plays of the exact same premise, just the year before. A movie that just like So Sweet… So Perverse adds a fair amount of the Italian seasoning that story which the original lacks.

Jean Reynaud [Trintignant] is a player kind of bloke who runs a chemical plant – but jus like most other movies of this kind, he never actually works – instead he spends time between his many mistresses and his depressed wife Danielle [Erika Blanc]. On several occasions he hears strange sounds from the apartment above his and Danielle’s. He also see’s a blonde woman rushing to the elevator and taking it up to that flat above theirs, but she’s dropped a piece of jewellery. One night he hears a woman screaming and goes up to investigate; finding blood outside the door he uses the key the previous tenant has left him. Inside he first finds a series of instruments, well knives, handcuffs and a good old cat o’nine tails that obviously make up someone’s kinky fetish, before surprising Nicole [Caroll Baker in her second of four movies directed by Lenzi] She tells him a sad tale of despair and how photographer Klaus [Horst Frank] holds her as a sadistic sex toy ever since raping and tormenting her during a photo shoot years ago. All shown in a great boldly coloured surreal flashback. Jean, being stupendously gullible falls head over heels in love with her and they take off for a few days to get Nicole away from the fiendish Klaus.

But their love escapade quickly goes sour when Nicole during a moment of serenity decides to spill the beans and reveals that she’s merely bait in a sinister plan to lure Jean into an affair with her and then kill him. Her former lover Klaus has been paid 25.000 to get rid of Jean, but she has no idea of who paid the killer. Jean comforts her and says that he lays no blame on her. Later that night in the one scene that has any Gialli quality to it Klaus wanders the flat, flips the switches on the power and tries to kills Nicole. Returning home, Jean tells his wife Danielle that he wants’ a divorce as Nicole is the one he really loves, at the same time he’s interrupted by a desperate phone call from Nicole who claims to have proof of who wants’ Jean dead.

Jean waits until midnight and then goes upstairs to Nicole’s flat only to find Klaus waiting for him. A fight starts that even wakens Danielle, who obviously also goes up to the flat and get’s there just in time to see what looks like Klaus knifing Jean.

So with Jean presumably dead and his body disposed of, the plot tightens, and even Danielle receives some wonderfully stylish death threats which all seem to be coming from Jean! There’s the Boileau-Narcejac novel coming back to make itself reminded. Danielle the wife is left to inherit nothing as Jean decided to leave it all to his new mistress Nicole. But as there’s still a third of the movie left, there’s a snag, and Klaus wants’ more money not to expose their deadly liaison.

From there on though it takes off in a complexly new direction, which isn’t part of the original source, but unfortunately not original enough to break new ground. You will find that you are triggered to solve the plot and figure out who’s playing whom for the wealth of Jean Reynaud, as it could be anyone of the three suspicious characters behind the fiendish plot. But that’s about it and when the climax has been reached it’s somewhat unsatisfying. Sure there is a decent twist to the end, but as mentioned not one that stands out but one that had already been done before and would be done again.

So why do I say that this isn’t a Giallo? Well first and foremost it holds no traits from that genre, and where there’s no red herrings in the shape of masked murderer or strange characters sneaking around, no cryptic devices or visual keys either, and it becomes more of a classic thriller than anything else. With that said though it’s definitely one of those movies that easily could have become a Gialli and does use a few convention gimmicks such as Trintignant’s snooping around in the first two thirds, which automatically designates him as an amateur sleuth of kinds. But that’s as far as it goes, and like I mentioned above the one single scene to be reminiscent of Gialli is the one with Klaus in the apartment, but Lenzi chooses to reveal that it’s Klaus before one has a real chance of starting to ponder who it may be. If it where to qualify into Giallo territory, he should have kept Klaus hidden and indicated that it might have been Danielle, or someone else who was stalking the couple.

There are several of these small scenes that make me feel that the movie misses the ball on some occasions. The first woman that we see Trintignant in bed with is his “rival” Mr Valmont’s [Giovanni Di Bendetto] wife Helene [Helga Liné], there’s an obvious tension between them, and even in the scenes where Reynaud’s family socializes with the Valmont’s. There’s even a scene where the two men shoot clay pigeons and Mr. Valmont “accidently” fires off a shot that just misses Jean’s head. So in that minor subplot there is a great source of red herring material that I feel is completely unused. They could have easily used one or both the Valmont’s as a possible suspect for wanting Reynaud dead, but unfortunately don’t.

But keep in mind that the Giallo was still not defined in any concrete way at this time, and So Sweet… So Perverse certainly does explore images and lines of narrative that are close to the Giallo. It is a movie that undoubtedly is delicately moving towards the Giallo area, but Lenzi still needed a few years to get all the pieces into place before perfecting his Giallo traits.

The masterful Ernesto Gastaldi wrote his screenplay from a story by producer Luciano Martino and Massimo D’Avak. D’Avak who would together with Francesco Barilli script Aldo Lado’s Chi l’ha vista morire? (Who Saw Her Die?) 1972 and Lenzi’s first cannibal flick Il paese del sesso selvaggio (The Man From Deep River) 1972. Two years later D’Avak and Barilli would write the script to Barilli’s debut feature, Il profumo della signora in nero (The Perfume of a Lady in Black) 1974 at which time the Giallo had found it’s tricks and traits.

Executive producer Sergio Martino may have worked side by side with Ernesto Gastaldi on some great movies previous to this one, but it would be the string of magnificent movies that they would make between 1971-1975 with Martino directing that would be their landmark pieces together. In only a few years the genre had become more firm in its language and most of the classic devices and visuals that So Sweet… So Perverse lacks had become standard.

One of the main things to irritate me with this movie is the opening sequence. It starts off with Ortolani’s great score, this time in its’ theme version with lyrics by Norman Newell who wrote the lyrics to Ortolani’s hit More off Mondo Cane 1962, and sung by J. Vincent Edwards. The tempo is fast, showing Trintignant’s Jean Reynaud driving his yellow car through along the roads of Paris – so once again the movies plot space is shown through the opening credits.

Editor Eugenio Alabiso throws in some random images as the scene moves forth, and this is where I start to question what’s going on, as these seemingly random images – the hunting rifle in the back seat and a close up on Helene Valmont’s earring – and having seen a couple of these vehicles, you know that there’s always indicators and referents to important stuff being flashed at the audience every now and then… but these things have absolutely nothing to do with the movie or it’s plot! It’s irritating as it instead leads thoughts off on a trail that never is intended, and possibly another reason why I feel that the Valmont's are underused too...

And what about that Riz Ortolani score? Well it’s a real wonderful piece, especially the suave and lush croonery vocal version, but unfortunately the rest is mostly a variation on the theme that returns in various forms. The track Why? is so lush that Lenzi reused it three years later in the movie which may possibly be his best Gialli of them all, Sette orchidee macchiate di rosso (Seven Bloodstained Orchids) 1972. Never the less it’s once again a testament to the great Ortolani who sadly still hasn’t really received the recognition he should be having. Where Morricone still can pack the likes of the Royal Albert Hall in London, UK, I’d happily pay money to see Ortolani conduct a full orchestra playing his great scores.

Even though I say that So Sweet… So Perverse isn’t a Gialli, it is an important movie in the evolution of Lenzi’s filmography that lead up to those great Gialli and Poliziotteschi films he made only a few years later. It’s an entertaining piece, that definitely get’s you involved, even though you may be able to foresee where it’s going at an early stages. And despite the fact that it’s more of a thriller than Giallo it’s still a neat piece of stylish cinema that you should check out if you are into Umberto Lenzi’s great movies.

Image:
2.35:1 Anamorphic

Audio:
Mono – English dialogue presumably lifted from separate source as there still is not a widescreen, English language version officially released yet.

Extras:
None. But instead you get a splendid presentation of the movie, as this is one of those great FanDubs where one enthusiastic genius has taken the audio from one source and used the great widescreen image so that we can all enjoy this film without the shitty cropping that most old video tapes used to present the movies in.

Here's that annoying opening for you, and that grand vocal track by the great Riz Ortolani and Norman Newell featuring J. Vincent Edwards.