Double Face

I fell in love with this movie from its first frame. Or, at any rate, the first BOOM-BANG-CRASH-WALLOP of its fabulously over-the-top piano soundtrack - as if Liberace were stationed just off camera, with blazing gold candelabra and rhinestone-studded Steinway grand. Its visuals are, if possible, lusher than its score. Crystal vases weep rose petals over the photo of a murdered woman. Venetian glass mirrors reflect the elegantly chiselled face of Klaus Kinski - glowering at us seductively over a polka-dotted silk cravat.

If you are used to Kinski hamming it up in a Herzog epic, his role here is a revelation. As a London millionaire who may or may not have murdered his lesbian wife, he is so subtle and ambiguous, so - dare I say it? - restrained that he keeps us guessing right up until the last few seconds. Seeing her 'come back to life' in a porno film (shot after her death) Kinski's face takes on a haunted look that outdoes all his raving, eye-rolling and tooth-gnashing in more famous roles.

Proof, if proof were needed, that director Riccardo Freda was not just a great unsung visual stylist, but a maestro of mood and suspense. Imagine a Chabrol or Hitchcock with the eye of a Renaissance painter, and you come close to the splendours of this film. So exquisite in its visual detail that its minor flaws - i.e. blatantly fake model car wrecks; continuity howlers such as Kinski walking bareheaded through Soho, then sitting in a nightclub with his hat on - simply evaporate before our eyes.

Oh, and I even like the tacky Italian pop ballad that keeps recurring as a 'clue' - to oddly chilling effect. So perhaps I'm just a sucker for this type of film.

David Melville

This London-based giallo starts off with a Keystone cops-type sped up car chase that ends with a toy train crashing into a toy car. We shortly afterwards see Klaus Kinski and his wife badly superimposed onto a ski-slope pretending to slide down a mountain. I'm guessing the budget for this one wasn't too high, but at least it lends a daft edge to this film.

Fugly Klaus Kinski isn't too happy that his wife hates him and clearly parades her lesbian lover in front of him all the time, which makes him the prime suspect when the car she's in crashes and explodes. The real question is, Klaus hated his wife, but is he the one that killed her? We follow our subdued Klaus around London as he searches hippy filled freak out dens looking for answers.

It's in one of these stinking holes full of unemployable idealistic morons that Klaus discovers his wife starring in some sort of porno film. Her face is covered, but a scar on her neck and a distinctive ring are enough proof for Klaus. He hooks up with a hippy chick to continue his search and gets a good kicking in a porn studio for his trouble. However, as shifty as Klaus looks, someone else may be up to something - why else would Klaus be being drugged?

We get a calmer Klaus here, but you still get the usual traits from him too - staring, glowering, looking etc. Nothing is quite revealed until the end so feel free to nap through some of the film - I had a feeling I did, and didn't seem to miss anything either. This isn't the best Riccardo Fredda film - If you want giallo, try his incredibly daft and enjoyable Iguana With the Tongue of Fire and if you want horror, my preference is the Ghost. Boob fans however will not feel let down by this one.

In an alternative universe, Klaus Kinski would have been the ideal actor to play Mark E Smith of The Fall.

Surprise! Surprise! There are not many movies where Klaus Kinski doesn´t play a bad guy. This is one of them. And it´s rather twisted. He´s a prime crime suspect, and we follow him solving the case right to a surprise ending. It´s a German Edgar Wallace adaption directed by classic Italian director Riccardo Freda and , yes, it´s a typical Giallo. So I guess all the fans of those "normal" German Edgar-Wallace-Movies didn´t like it very much. It´s only for fans of the director and, of course, the brilliant, astonishing, unforgettable Klaus Kinski.

Some Gorgeous and Slick Color Images Embody the Late 60's Psychedelic London Vibe of New "Freedoms" On-Screen.

Such as Nudity and Drugs, coupled with Outrageous Hair and Clothes Styles.

Klaus Kinski, in a Tempered Role, is Involved with His Wife, a Rich Heiress, and Her Sudden and Tragic Death by Sabotage.

It Sends Him to the London "Underground" Scene and Assorted Characters such as Models and Pornographers.

Typical "Who-Done-It" Plot is Ramped by some Beautiful Cinematography and a Neo-Noir Feel.

It also Employs Modern Tropes of Italian and German Cinema Packaged for an International Market.

It's a Great Film to Look At and Kinski, as always, is an Intriguing Screen Presence.

The Story has some Flow-Problems as the Plot gets Complex but Nevertheless is a Good Example of B-Movie Making in the "Times That Were A Changin".

Liz and Helen, a mod-Gothic mystery from Riccardo Freda, has some points in common with one of the director's earlier films, The Horrible Dr. Hichcock. Each concerns a man who believes his wife to be deceased, only to be confronted by creepy evidence to contrary. Then, too, there's the extravagant, romantic atmosphere, thunderstorms, and lurid melodramatic scenes.

Distinguishing Liz and Helen, however, is its Swinging London setting, complete with a disorienting visit to a hippie dance club with colored lights, topless birds, motorcycles, and psychedelic music. The attentive viewer will be further unsettled by the questionable motivation of its protagonist, straight-laced but tortured industrialist John Alexander, played by a simmeringly earnest Klaus Kinski.

The production values aren't consistently impressive. In one scene Kinski pretends to be pummeled by people clearly not in the same room, and the English actor who dubs the lead is laughably un-Kinski. Still, Liz and Helen does more than compensate for its shortcomings with mood and stylistic flair. Recommended to the open-minded and those wanting to see Kinski do something other than glare crazily, eat bugs, and kill people.