Die heiße Nacht der Killer

The killer wore gloves: of course he did... this is a giallo, after all. He also packs a cut-throat razor, with which he kills his first victim, but switches to a curved sickle gardening tool for subsequent murders. All par for the course.

The killer, who also wears a leather jacket, is searching for a missing $1million in cash, half of which falls into the lap of pretty artist Peggy Foster (Gillian Hills), meaning that she is in constant peril throughout the film. Peggy knows nothing of the origin of the money, but thinks that it has something to do with her reporter boyfriend Michael, who is currently on assignment in Vietnam - or is he?

I admit that following obscure Spanish giallo The Killer Wears Gloves was a bit of a struggle for me, not because it is a particularly complex movie, but because it failed to hold my attention, being far from compelling or original. There's very little here to excite avid fans of the genre - no dazzling visuals, no amazingly choreographed death sequences, and no clever revelations - just some nudity (star Hills is very attractive and takes a shower) and a bit of nice travelogue footage of 70s London, where the film is set (although the car chase finalé was very clearly shot in Spain).

4.5/10, rounded up to 5 for Peggy's groovy apartment, complete with giant egg-shaped lamp/ornament, but rounded down to 4 for Peggy having a handy revolver - in the UK?!?!.

The film opens with some guy getting his throat cut in an airport toilet by a mystery figure, then switches to focus on Peggy, girlfriend of Michael, a photo-journalist who has been in Vietnam for some time and isn't showing any interest in coming home. Peggy therefore lives alone in her London apartment, with the usual variety of creepy/weird neighbours/housekeepers living around her, what with this being a giallo and what not.

Peggy is an artist and just about everyone she knows is a complete areshole, from the lecherous guy whom she submits her art too (who keeps putting the moves on her), to Michael's ex-girlfriend Jackie (who is a total b**ch) to her upstairs, bass playing, cat loving neighbour upstairs (who looks like a time travelling, elderly Nick Cave). Peggy needs cash and as Michael off in the 'Nam she figures she might as well rent his apartment out, because that always works out well in this kind of film.

Her new tenant turns out to Bruno Corazzari, and he seems kind of okay as he's not putting the moves on her quite as much as any other man in her life. Then again, he's wearing creepy mirrored glasses and starts rifling around in Michael's room the moment Peggy leaves. Lo and behold, the next thing that happen is that Michael is on the phone, he's back in Blighty, and wants to meet Peggy at an abandoned hangar. Or was that bit after the bit where Corazzari takes a dive off the building, leaving a corpse with a smashed up face? I can't remember. By the way, corpses with smashed up faces aren't good news in gialli, unlike in real life.

Also, later that day, Peggy's new tenant turns up as a different guy, confusing her. What's going? What's happening? Who's that in there? This being a standard giallo, various murders start taking place, except for one character who falls in front of a subway train rather stupidly. There are many red herrings but it was easy to guess the killer. In saying that, it didn't stop me enjoying the film. You've got your usual giallo traits (boobs) and a smattering of gore (smattering not being a word you use in say, McDonalds: "I'll have a Big Mac and a smattering of chips."), and the soundtrack was nice and funky.

The Killer Wore Gloves is one of the specific subset of giallo films that are of Spanish origin. Despite this one being a Spanish-Italian co-production, it's certainly fair to say that it's primarily an Iberian film. Like other examples of this type, it's of a bit lower quality than its average Italian counterpart, while still essentially being decent overall. As is so often the way in this particular sub-genre, it sports a plot-line that is somewhat convoluted. Set in London, events kick off with the murder of a man in an airport restroom for possession of an enigmatic briefcase. At the same time, a young woman thinks she has spotted her boyfriend driving around in the city, a man who has hitherto gone missing. The girl also has taken in a new tenant to share her home with, a very odd man who wears shades indoors at all times. He soon turns up dead after an apparent suicide. Making matters even worse, an attempt is made on the girl's life by an unknown assassin and this is followed by a bunch of other inter-related murders.

It's a fairly complicated story full of the usual gaggle of red herrings and oddball side characters that typify films from this genre. The murder set-pieces themselves involve a variety of weaponry and there is a modicum of suspense generated. The on location London settings were fine, while Gillian Hills made for a good enough heroine. It is, however, not an especially stylish effort by this genre's usual standards and it's really a fairly middling example of this type of movie on the whole. But, that said, if you are a fan of the genre I know that one thing is for sure and that is that more of the same is never exactly a bad thing. And this entry, while basically unremarkable, still has the good sense to deliver the bread and butter elements of the genre. At the end of the day though, for giallo connoisseurs, I think that overall the most interesting feature in this one is its Spanish origins.

This is one of those films where it's hard to know what to make of the story until right at the end. The back-story is well hidden, with only occasional dialogue references to a Vietnam photojournalist named "Michael", and the visual of a mysterious black briefcase that comes into the possession of Michael's girlfriend in London. The plot takes place almost entirely in London and is focused on the girlfriend. Along the way, at least one person is murdered. A couple of characters function as red herrings. And that's about it, until the end.

There are a couple of spooky segments; one takes place in a deserted old airplane hanger, accompanied by semi-noir lighting and the shadow of someone holding a gun. The killer tools around on a motorcycle, dressed entirely in black leather. I correctly figured out the killer's identity, but I missed the motive.

The story is fairly simple and is explained quickly. But viewers expect that a high-quality giallo will have striking visuals, spine-tingling suspense, and a surprise ending. "The Killer Wore Gloves" spends so much plot time on the girlfriend, the killer and this person's movements are not accentuated, which detracts from suspense. The ending I had figured out about two-thirds of the way through.

Visuals at best are mediocre for the giallo genre. They're not bad. But the lighting could have been spookier in combination with more scenes devoted to the killer. Sound quality is muffled, especially near the beginning. Even at the end, poor sound quality covers up part of the killer's explanation. Intermittent background music is frantic and annoying. Casting is acceptable, but Gillian Hills is not a very good actress in the role of the girlfriend.

This Euro-cinema whodunit is worth a one time watch for viewers who appreciate the giallo genre. But a general audience will probably not be impressed, as production values trend somewhat low and acting quality is not especially good.

'The Killer Wore Gloves' aka 'La muerte llama a las 10' (1974) is an entertaining, though unexceptional Gialli with a genuinely likable performance from the delicious Gillian Hills; who unwittingly lets out the flat above to a somewhat nefarious character which acts as the lurid catalyst for many bloody deaths and equally gaudy red herrings that predictably ensue. Outside of the grubby London exteriors what initially galvanized my interested about 'The Killer wore Gloves' was the fiery head-noddingly beatific, groove-laden, prog sounds of Marcello Giombini, his thunderous, Goblin-esque soundtrack must surely be ripe for a remastered release at some juncture? This rich, jazzy and eclectic soundtrack really lifts the admittedly prosaic plot into something rather special, well it certainly did something 'special' to me anyway! Even today, 'La muerte llama a las 10' remains somewhat of an obscure Giallo, no doubt due to the tangible lack of cinematic flair or invention from Herr Bosch; but the lividly luminous presence of Ms. Hills and the magnificent funky, joy-inducing jazz riffs of the maestro cine-groove Giombini really should make this funkily far-out Gialli one to track down; especially if your interests lie within the giddy realms of the mid-seventies Italian slasher. Right, time to peruse my collection to see what other gorgeous Giombini can be unearthed for my edification later on tonight!