Dial Help

This film is embarassing. All the way through, I was waiting for the Deodato twist, or the cool disturbing symbolism, or even a hint of great Deodato camerawork, but, sadly, I was still waiting when the end-credits began to roll.

Definitely the lowest point in Ruggero's career. See House At the Edge of the Park instead, and steer clear of this cringe-making killer-telephone rubbish.

Ring! Ring! Have-been horror directors hotline, how may we help you? Um…yeah…Pronto! I mean hello, my name is Rugge… err, call me by my initials R.D! Okay Mr. R.D, what seems to be the problem? Well the reviews on my latest movie "Dial: Help" were all negative and harsh and, frankly, I myself feel like my career has seen better days as well. Okay Mr. R.D, and why do you suppose that is? Well, I gained fame and a well-deserved cult status thanks to my controversial and shocking movie about savage tribes of cannibals devouring a film crew and another one about relentless thugs terrorizing wealthy people in a house at the edge of the park, for which I borrowed the idea from Wes Craven, but "Dial: Help" revolves on … err… never mind! No no, Mr. R.D, go ahead and tell me what the film is about. Um, it's about a spiritually possessed phone line stalking a sexy model and killing the people surrounding her. Ah, I see. That premise does indeed sound a little silly and not as petrifying as cannibals or rapists, but I suppose there are deeper themes in your film, right? Oh yeah, sure… Um, what do you mean by that? Well, isn't the phone line symbolism for another kind of terror? Or perhaps it's all just happening in the mind of your female heroine? Um, nope… It's just about a phone going berserk and murdering people with the cord, vibrations, electricity or even ordinary coins. Interesting, Mr. R.D, but how do you explain all this supernatural stuff to the viewer at the end of the movie? You see, I figured the slowly unraveling phone-mystery plot wouldn't be that important or relevant, so I just concentrated on processing all possible phone-gimmicks I could think of. Phone gimmicks? What do you mean? You know, like wind blowing through the horn, mind-penetrating dial tones, and turn-tables catapulting into the air! Very original, Mr. R.D, but not exactly horrific and as an experienced director you must know that, in the end, people expect a reasonable clarification of all these events. Oh, but there is! It all has to do with negative and unreleased energy, if I remember correctly! It's all a bit fuzzy, I admit. Hmm… I see. Oh well, as they always say, a good motion picture relies on more elements than just the story. Did you at least process some of your regular trademarks into the film, so that your fans at least recognize your style? I tried! Lord knows I tried, but the murders and bloodshed are simply not shocking anyone! That's a pity indeed, Mr. R.D, but what about sex? Everyone likes a good portion of sleaze and nudity in their horror films and you said yourself the film centered on a sexy fashion model in peril! Yes, but … But what, Mr. R.D? Well, to tell you the truth, we kind of promoted "Dial: Help" as an erotic thriller with revealing shots of Charlotte Lewis on the cover, but in reality there's no sex in the film and Charlotte even refused to go topless. Mr. R.D! Now I'm really disappointed, that's just shamelessly ripping people off and lure them with false promises! I know, I know, and I'm ashamed, but I just wanted everybody to rent "Dial: Help" and love it! Well, to round up I can comfort you by saying that every major director is entitled to a few erroneous decisions without it affecting his/her career immediately, but be more cautious next time and do some research first, okay Mr. R.D? I will; thank you! You're welcome. Tell me, have you got any ideas for upcoming movies already? Yeah, as a matter a fact, I do! I was thinking about making a Giallo with a murderous washing machine! Doesn't that sound fascinating? Hello? Hello?

My review was written in October 1989 after watching the film on Prism video cassette.

Despite its absurd premise, "Dial: Help" emerges as an above-average Italian horror thriller, imported direct to U. S. video stores.

Charlotte Lewis, the mega-voluptuous co-star of "Pirates" and "The Golden Child:, is cast against type as a vulnerable British heroine whose innocent dialing of a wrong number sets off a series of supernatural murders.

It seems (rather preposterously) that she's made contact with a long-gone phone romance service whose pent-up energy ("of love and hate", per psychic expert William Berger) finds a mystical outlet through the phone lines. She's plagued by weird voices; the phone kills her tropical fish and her friends are murdered by an invisible presence. Pic climaxes with Lewis retracing her steps and finding the secret room that unlocks the mystery.

Helmer Ruggero Deodatao again demonstrates he's nar the head of the class in making American-style films in Rome, with an excellent direct English soundtrack. Pic is something of a challenge for fidgety video fans, in that star Lewis doesn't really get down and boogie until the final reel; her prudish performance up until that point is definitely misleading.

Finale, however, is worth waiting for, as Deodato combines voyeurism and bondage motifs memorably in a kinky payoff for which Lewis takes on the idealized look of a John Willie adult cartoon character. Pic definitely is a showcase for the exotic star, whose physical attributes could well win her an extended Italian career parallel to current reigning local star Serena Grandi.

Unidentified supporting cast is good and all tech credits are solid.

Jenny Cooper (Charlotte Lewis), a beautiful English model living in Italy, dials a wrong number, connecting to a long-unmanned hotline for the lonely and suicidal; in doing so, she unleashes a reservoir of negative energy that follows her via the telephone and kills those around her.

As the above synopsis suggests, Dial: Help is a decidedly silly '80s Italian horror, full of ridiculous death scenes in which victims are choked by telephone cords (one woman is literally hanging on the telephone!), struck by coins ejected from a payphone, electrocuted by switchboard, and killed by exploding pacemaker. Even the fish in Jenny's aquarium aren't safe, the telephone in her apartment emitted a high pitched tone that sends them all floating to the surface.

Director Ruggero Deodato (of Cannibal Holocaust infamy) handles the craziness with style, using wind machines, lots of coloured light, an excess of smoke and plenty of neon (there is even one of those horrible '80s neon phones that tries to zap Jenny in the bath), but realising just how daft and consequently unscary the film's premise is, he resorts to getting Lewis into some sexy lingerie for the final act. Not that I'm complaining, of course: Lewis in black basque, stockings and suspenders just about makes up for her horrible wooden performance.

4.5 out of 10, which I might have rounded up to 5 if the character playing the jazz flute had died.

What a sales gimmick! This is certainly not an erotic thriller. There is a fraction of a second nipple flash at best, and this is while….being seduced by….her possessed TELEPHONE! She spends the entire movie running around screaming and terrified by eerie sounds on possessed telephones around the city. Through the stupid chaos of telephone cords attacking people, fish dying from telephone squeals, and quarters shot out of a pay phone killing a guy, this movie should have been placed in the low budget horror section. It doesn't earn the title thriller or erotic in the least! For a better movie with Charlotte Lewis see Bare Essentials instead.