Umberto Lenzi delivers a giallo that has all the trademark elements fully in place, but somehow fails to achieve the right level of madness to produce a true classic. I'm not quite sure why, though. Let's blame Antonio Sabato!
No – let's get to the story instead. Someone wearing the standard issue giallo killer uniform (black gloves, floppy hat, raincoat) is murdering women in and around Rome, at rather a rapid rate, too! This guy knows how to create a giallo atmosphere – not only does he shake things up on the variety side, he also leaves a weird silver crescent next to the bodies.
His third victim (I think) is the bride of Antonio Sabato, and she gets cut up on a train while her husband out buying McEwan's Export from the train bar. He attends her funeral while the cops take everybody's pictures covertly, but it's all a ruse! She's still alive though I'm sure her relatives are going to be chuffed when they find that out.
Antonio then gets on the job of finding out who the killer is, with the aid of the police to a certain extent. He discovers that all the woman being offed all stayed at a certain hotel at a certain time, but why are they being killed? And who is this American people keep referring to? And did Bruno Corazarri just say he gave the American a chewie?
So we've got the stupid clues, the Euro-babes, the set piece kills, what have you, but I couldn't help but feel that Antonio Sabato wasn't pushing himself as the hero (and I felt the same way about him in The Man with Icy Eyes), so his lack of animation made the film at bit dull. Or maybe that was due to the film following the giallo formula a bit too strictly (although the 'death by drill' was an eye opener). It could because I've watched about a hundred of these films in about six months. YOU DECIDE!
