Black Belly of the Tarantula

In 1999, these films were impossible to get a hold of, and you had to look hard to find someone who would sell you them on the grey market. It is for this reason that my mate Marco and me found ourselves in the back room of some video store on Ingram Street, Glasgow city centre, staring into a filing cabinet jam packed with video nasties, category 3 Hong Kong films, and otherwise unavailable films like this. Marco bought this one. I watched the first five minutes and decided it looked boring, little knowing how obsessed by these films I'd be in a few years time. Also, I had no idea how bald I would become. And I didn't know YouTube would exist either. We were all young and naïve back then.

If there was a generic starters pack for giallo newbies I'd definitely include this one. It's a straightforward giallo plot as in it has one masked/gloved/hatted killer, plenty of suspects, a couple of red herrings, a clue at the start of the film, quirky characters, nudity and a bit of gore. It doesn't deviate from the formula but it's a good film anyway, thanks to Ennio Morricone's music, the lovely cinematography, and some good moustache action from Giacarlo Giannini.

It all starts off with Barbara Bouchet (a Bond girl) getting a nude massage from a blind guy and then getting into a fight with her husband because someone's sent him a nude picture of her with a mystery man. Next thing you know some gloved killer has paralysed her with a needle, then cut her open while she can only watch in horror.

Depressed policeman Giancarlo Giannini (whose eccentric wife has sold all the furniture in the house!) is on the case, and thinks the husband did it, but when another victim appears and he uncovers a drug smuggling ring into the bargain, things heat up a bit. It doesn't help that he's the laughing stock of the force when the killer plants some evidence that turns out to be a covertly made film of the policeman and his wife in bed.

There's a neat rooftop chase in this one too, and although it's a case of one killer all the way through, it makes for a good journey all the way through, thanks to appearances by Claudine Auger (a Bond girl) and Barbara Bach (a Bond girl) and Giancarlo Prete (not a Bond girl). There's also the requisite scene in a fashion store amongst mannequins that these films seem to require by law.

When the nymphomaniac Maria Zani (Barbara Bouchet) is murdered, her ex- husband and insurance broker Paolo Zani (Silvano Tranquilli) becomes the prime-suspect of Inspector Tellini (Giancarlo Giannini). Then the saleswoman Mirta Ricci (Annabella Incontrera) is murdered in the same modus operandi – both victims had been paralyzed by acupuncture needles with poison introduced in their necks and their bellies had been ripped open with a knife with the victims still alive, in the same way that tarantulas are killed by tarantula hawks. The police find that she was also a drug dealer,

Paolo meets Inspector Tellini to tell him that he is innocent. Further, he hires the private eyes La Catapulta that finds the last man that had met Maria, the photographer Mario (Giancarlo Prete). Paolo pursues Mario but they both die and Inspector Tellini finds an envelope addressed to Franca Valentino with Mario. Inspector Tellini discovers that he was a blackmailer and meanwhile Franca becomes the third victim of the serial killer. When the masseuse Jenny (Barbara Bach) is found dead wrapped in plastic bag, Inspector Tellini goes to the massage parlor to meet the manager Laura (Claudine Auger) and he believes that an employee may be the serial-killer.

"La Tarantola dal Ventre Nero" is a great "giallo" with the typical structure – a serial-killer that wears gloves and the identity is only discovered in the end; the victims are beautiful semi-naked women; gore deaths; a persistent detective pursues the killer; and wonderful music score.

The story is well developed, with many plot points. The very young Giancarlo Giannini works with very beautiful women, three of them future Bond girls (Claudine Auger and the Barbaras Bouchet and Bach). The great music score of Ennio Morricone completes the work of the director Paolo Cavara. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "O Ventre Negro da Tarântula" ("The Black Belly of the Tarantula")

"The Black Belly of the Tarantula" is a typically grandiose title in this genre of film known as the Giallo. Giancarlo Giannini stars as Inspector Tellini, a police detective on the trail of a killer. This killer is targeting the female clients of a health and beauty salon, and employs a particularly insidious method. They inject their victims with the poison from a rare species of wasp, and this poison thoroughly incapacitates them, so that they're unresponsive but conscious when they get carved up with the killers' blade.

Giannini is low key and likable in the lead role. His time on the job is contrasted with his more mundane home life with his wife Anna (Stefania Sandrelli), and it's actually what director Paolo Cavara *doesn't* do that makes this an interesting film of its kind. He doesn't concern himself with being overly stylish, instead opting for a slightly more matter of fact approach. Fans of this genre need not be concerned, for there is still quite a bit of female flesh to ogle and some bloody brutality to enjoy, but Cavara does an engaging job of combining the psychosexual proclivities of the maniac with a police procedural and a little bit of lightweight domestic drama.

All of the ladies just look ravishing, of course. Claudine Auger ("Thunderball") plays salon boss Laura, Barbara Bouchet ("Casino Royale" '67) is unhappy married woman Maria Zani, and Barbara Bach ("The Spy Who Loved Me") is the receptionist, Jenny. Silvano Tranquilli offers a fine supporting performance as Maria's husband Paolo, who decides to play amateur sleuth when he falls under suspicion.

Good pacing and a fairly tense finale help to make this a good entertainment, as well as a deliciously unconvincing dummy fall.

Seven out of 10.

Inspector Tellini (Giancarlo Giannini) must investigate the bizarre murder of two seemingly unconnected women, paralysed by their killer so that they may be horrifically violated while conscious.

It has often been said that Italian cinema is all style and no plot but here is a definite example to the contrary. 'The Black Belly of the Tarantula' is indeed a stylish Italian offering laced with some truly exquisite photography and novel camera trickery but it also consists of a strong plot that surprises and captivates while maintaining a profound aura of trepidation. It is, however, perhaps the most apparent downfall in the film that the plot becomes the central focal point as several aspects to the story are left unexplored, subsequently leaving no acceptable closure of the respective plot aspect. Unfortunately because of this, the prevalent incoherency of Italian cinema is once again revisited and due to the nature of the film it is perhaps more difficult than usual to ignore. With this in mind, one should realise that the central storyline is stark enough to arouse and preserve viewer interest while only the sub-plots weaken the overall presentation of the film.

Despite the mainly superficial criticisms one can direct at the film, 'The Black Belly of the Tarantula' still takes a firm position as one of the finer examples of this particular brand of Italian film-making. Unquestionably, the opening thirty minutes are immensely powerful, offering some of the most intimidating murder sequences ever confined to the cinematic medium. The use of gloomy visuals, point-of-view shots, intentionally disorientating photography, a wonderful musical score blending both prominence and subtlety and a lavish use of dark colours and shadows creates an almost unsurpassed eerie and brutal ambiance to accompany the violent actions depicted on screen and the shrill, short, terrifying shrieks of the killer's victims seek only to underline the artistic craftsmanship of the picture. The brusque transition to silence that immediately follows the first attack of the murderer in each individual case is so overwhelmingly haunting that the following actions are immeasurably disturbing in their tranquillity. Undoubtedly, these sequences are the pinnacle of creativity from Paolo Carvara in this picture; sublime in their splendour and disconcerting in their substance.

The most apt way to summarise 'The Black Belly of the Tarantula' would be to simply describe it as flawed genius. Arguably too plot-heavy and with an unmistakably clichéd outcome, the superlative qualities fortunately shine through and leave the film as impressive, not disappointing. Perhaps those more highly versed in the Italian Giallo will appreciate the effort and artistry slightly more than others, but in any case, 'The Black Belly of the Tarantula' is worthy viewing for all fans of cinema. 7½/10

After an opening sequence featuring a beautiful woman enjoying a lovely massage, BLACK BELLY OF THE TARANTULA finds the woman and her husband fighting over her having an affair and subsequent blackmail. This leads to a rubber-gloved, mask-wearing murderer using a unique method to dispatch the unwary, unfaithful wife.

Inspector Tellini (Giancarlo Giannini) suspects the husband, that is, until more, identical murders follow. As Tellini delves deeper into the case, he finds himself the target of the maniac he's trying to catch.

Stylish and suspenseful, this is a classic giallo from the genre's high point. Giannini's character is more human than the typical cop role. He plays a man ready to chuck his whole career, just as the vicious killer gets going, making Tellini more believable.

Co-stars Barbara Bach as the unfortunate Jenny...