‘For the older ones, we have created a monster that goes more towards sadomasochistic porn.’
A small-time journalist on a tabloid newspaper receives an anonymous letter promising to kill a television personality. His editor doesn’t take the threat seriously, but the murderer keeps his word…
Offbeat Giallo drama from director Luigi Zampa and screenwriter Sergio Donati. Johnny Dorelli stars, with a cast that includes Yves Beneyton, Orazio Orlando and Sydne Rome.
Life hasn’t turned out as planned for writer and journalist Valerio Barigozzi (Dorelli). His detective novels are all out of print, and his 20-year career at the sleazy tabloid Tribuna Sera means a desk in the newsroom next to the toilet and work as agony aunt, Countess Esmeralda. However, everything changes one day when he receives a short, typewritten note signed ‘The Monster.’ The letter promises to kill the popular children’s entertainer, Grandpa Gustavo (Gianrico Tedeschi). The note is met with indifference from his editor, but Dorelli decides to go and see Tedeschi at the television studio where he is filming his latest programme. However, when he finds him backstage, the celebrity is already dead, his head bashed in and a ‘V’ drawn on his face in lipstick.
Dorelli sees the murder as his big chance to prove himself at last, but he is held for questioning by investigating detective, Commissario Pisani (Orlando). By the time he gets back to the paper and the office of owner Nicola Mesca (Henning Schlüter), all the other papers have the story, and he’s back at his old desk. However, he receives another note, naming an up-and-coming footballer as the next target. Dorelli makes a beeline for the goalkeeper’s training ground, arriving in time to find the body and take photographs and heading back to the paper before the authorities can get hold of him. His story is a sensation, and with Schlüter out of the country, he teams up with the owner’s ambitious son, Giorgio (Beneyton), to milk the story for all its worth.
Giallo films generally have a reputation as low-brow exploitation material, typically featuring a black-gloved killer on the loose targeting semi-naked women on the murky borderline between crime thriller and out-and-out horror. Although plenty of other examples fit that description, there are plenty that don’t, and Zampa’s film is a case in point. Here, the murders serve as a catalyst for what is primarily a character study intertwined and informed by a hefty dose of social commentary. The latter is delivered from a relentlessly cynical point of view, which sometimes approaches the outright absurd. This approach and the presence of Dorelli, better known for lightweight material, has seen the film commonly mislabeled as a comedy. That’s not the case, with proceedings having more of a flavour of Billy Wilder’s timeless classic ‘Ace in the Hole’ (1951) or Dan Gilroy’s terrific ‘Nightcrawler’ (2014) with Jake Gyllenhaal.
From the opening scenes, we have few illusions about small-time journalist Valerio Barigozzi. After viewing Luciano Ercoli’s ‘Death Walks On High Heels/La morte cammina con i tacchi alti’ (1971) at the cinema with his teenage son, Luca (Enzo Santaniello), he finds his car blocked. The parking attendant rushes to move it but isn’t quick enough to stop Dorelli from surreptitiously ruining its paintwork with his keys. Dropping Santaniello off at home means an argument with ex-wife Anna (Angelica Ippolito), who is barely dressed, drinking and on the phone with one of her boyfriends. Her attitude throws Dorelli into a rage, but then he was already most of the way there anyway.
Zampa and Donati are careful to establish the reporter’s personal and professional circumstances right from the film’s opening. These are crucial in establishing his worldview and the motivation for his subsequent behaviour. When opportunity knocks in the form of the killers’ letters, his desperation to seize his chance is palpable and, initially, at least, his situation provides some justification for his morally dubious decisions. However, as the film progresses and Dorelli begins riding the wave of his newfound fame and success, audience sympathies slowly start to fade. This process is cleverly mitigated by a few moments where Dorelli shows consideration for others. However, it’s only a short time before it becomes clear that these promises are probably forgotten the moment they come out of his mouth.
Dorelli is also our window into the world of tabloid journalism and a dirty window it turns out to be. The press here is exposed as venal, heartless and willingly corrupt. Newspaper owner Schlüter makes throwaway remarks about his obligations to politicians, big business and the establishment as if reading items off a restaurant menu. Dorelli and Beneyton team up to create more and more outlandish ways to keep the story on the front page, with Dorelli creating wild theories about the killer and his intentions. His guesses prove surprisingly accurate, or is it that the murderer is simply following his suggestions? The public doesn’t escape criticism either, as the paper’s circulation skyrockets due to its sensationalist approach.
The satire reaches its peak, though, when Dorelli is approached by Baruffi (Renzo Palmer), the owner of a cosmetics firm. Formerly struggling, they are now reaping the rewards of the killer using one of their lipsticks to sign his work. Doreli agrees to keep name-checking the company in his articles in return for money, while Palmer contemplates launching a range of ‘Monster’ dolls. Eventually, he settles on a musical tie-in and a love song to the killer, performed by pop singer Dina (Rome, in a surprisingly brief appearance, given her high billing). Dorelli and Rome begin an affair, which leads to a telling moment where the man of the hour assaults the paparazzi when they try to take their picture together.
All this is quite impactful, but Zampa and Donati are quite clearly more interested in these aspects than they are in the thriller elements of their story, although the mystery does come to a logical and highly appropriate conclusion. However, the final act feels like it arrives in a hurry and hangs around for far too long when it does. This makes the final twist blindingly obvious, although more experienced mystery fans probably worked it all out much, much earlier. Still, Inspector Orlando’s erroneous conclusions about the murderer’s height are resolved in quite a smart way. Zampa throws in a few POV shots during the murders, but the sequences are anonymous and contain almost no suspense or noticeable style. It’s plain his filmmaking priorities lay elsewhere.
Dorelli may have hoped that this project would start a new phase of his acting career that focused more on drama than the comedies with which he was typically associated. However, the film came and went without making much of a splash in Europe and never received an English-language release. It’s a pity as he is rather good as the downtrodden, middle-aged journalist who achieves his career ambitions but finds that they come with an unexpected price tag. Some of his angry outbursts in the early part of the film may seem a little overdone, but they are in keeping with the character’s initial frustrations. His subsequent lack of empathy and cynicism feel like another aspect of the character rather than attitudes dictated by developments in the story.
Giorgio Guidi was born in 1937 and began his professional career as opera singer Nino D’Aurelio before assuming the name Johnny Dorelli. By then, he was studying music in New York, where he was discovered by bandleader Percy Faith, who placed him on the TV variety programme ‘The Ken Murray Show’. Returning to Italy when his visa expired, his American success was enough to earn him a record contract. His big breakthrough arrived with ‘Calypso Melody’ in 1957, and it was the beginning of a long string of hit records and acclaimed recordings. After debuting on the big screen as an actor in forgotten musical comedy ‘Cantando sotto le stelle’ (1956), he co-starred with Italian comedy institution Totò in ‘Totò, Peppino e le fanatiche’ (1958). A string of similar projects followed, most notably ‘How To Kill 400 Duponts/Arrriva Dorellik’ (1967), which spoofed the comic series ‘Diabolik’, later filmed by Mario Bava. A more serious role came with the heartwarming, real-life drama ‘State buoni se potete’ (1983), for which he received acclaim and was award nominated.
Not your average Giallo by any stretch of the imagination, but a thought-provoking and well-crafted social drama.