Nero veneziano is a bleak, unsettling descent into metaphysical horror, cloaked in the rotting beauty of Venice. The film's strongest asset is its heavy, almost oppressive atmosphere, which seeps into every frame like rising damp. The cinematography captures this decay with lingering shots of crumbling architecture, dim candlelit interiors, and the cold stillness of the canals, evoking a dreamlike but suffocating sense of dread. Cinematographer Vittorio Storaro's signature use of chiaroscuro and tinted color palettes (though less flamboyant here than in his later works) helps to ground the film in both realism and symbolic unease. That said, the narrative pacing often struggles under the weight of its imagery; the film indulges in visual mood at the expense of narrative momentum.
Among the cast, Rena Niehaus delivers a quietly gripping performance, her expressive face managing to convey vulnerability and unease without relying on melodrama. Ely Galleani, in a more ephemeral role, radiates a hypnotic presence that fits the film's tone even if her character feels underwritten. Luciano Virgilio, playing the lead, captures the physical and psychological decline demanded of him, but at times his delivery flattens under the script's cryptic weight. The erotic elements, including full nudity from both Niehaus and Galleani, are photographed in a subdued, non-gratuitous manner, blending seamlessly into the film's themes of mortality, vision, and corrupted innocence. However, the film's art-house ambitions often clash with its pulpy occult trappings, creating an awkward tonal imbalance that keeps it from fully succeeding in either realm.
A blind teenage boy is sent to Venice to recover from illness, only to become the focal point of a prophetic nightmare as visions of death and plague begin to merge with reality. His parents, both uneasy and secretive, struggle to understand the dark forces closing in, while the ancient city itself becomes a labyrinth of omens, shadows, and half-truths.
