Here maybe is proof positive that nobody understood the sex slasher thriller quite like the Italians. American William Rose wrote & directed this atypical little Giallo production right there in Italy with actual Italians, and while entertaining enough for fans of low budget European made horror it never quite comes alive in spite of some nifty locations and a great cast. Even the usually reliable Berto Pisano's musical is kind of just there, and if nothing else you can almost always count on some decent music when watching Italian genre cinema. Strange.
Daniela Giordano plays the young waif recently released from a women's jail for a crime she didn't commit who finds herself wrapped up in a web of intrigue involving a cult of devil worshipers (?) who target girls just like her, all of which ended up staying in room 2a of a boarding house from hell. And all of which either ended up insane or dead after being subjected to some really cruel forms of ceremonial torture that gives the film its reputation amongst connoisseurs of Euro Trash.
Giordano is a feast for the eyes just sitting there at a bus stop but the show is stolen by beefy Samson Peplum actor Brad Harris as a big palooka Yankee living in southern Italy for reasons that are never explained. Harris offers the film's hero a beer at one point and you just have to laugh. He and his 6' 3" 275lb buddy Willie from Brooklyn ride around in Harris' little Volkswagen Beetle looking for action, and the film's standout moment for me was seeing these three huge guys spill out of such a tiny car when running to the rescue with the hero in the big climax.
Which is surprisingly anti-climactic and involves a literal cliffhanger that has the most inappropriate dramatic music tacked onto it until BLACK EMANUELLE GOES EAST. It's more fun watching Harris & Willie batter down the iron door to the castle, and if anything director Rose missed an opportunity to better contrast this doofus Stan Wojohowitz-like American presence with the Italian culture they seem so out of place in. They are so huge every scene with Harris feels claustrophobic as he squeezes through doors or tries not to demolish the furniture by just leaning on it during conversation scenes.
There's some good bits to the film too, like Spaghetti Western actor Frank Latimore as a tortured cult associate driven mad by realizing he literally sold his soul, a welcome nude scene by Ms. Giordano, various torture sequences and a couple of potent gore effects. But when compared to the usual flair of Italian Giallo fare its all pretty artless & matter of fact. Not that there's anything wrong with that mind you, it's just a cheap little Italian B movie, and it's always life affirming seeing Brad Harris take two guys & crack their heads together like a pair of coconuts. Now that's the stuff!
5/10
Daniela Giordano plays the young waif recently released from a women's jail for a crime she didn't commit who finds herself wrapped up in a web of intrigue involving a cult of devil worshipers (?) who target girls just like her, all of which ended up staying in room 2a of a boarding house from hell. And all of which either ended up insane or dead after being subjected to some really cruel forms of ceremonial torture that gives the film its reputation amongst connoisseurs of Euro Trash.
Giordano is a feast for the eyes just sitting there at a bus stop but the show is stolen by beefy Samson Peplum actor Brad Harris as a big palooka Yankee living in southern Italy for reasons that are never explained. Harris offers the film's hero a beer at one point and you just have to laugh. He and his 6' 3" 275lb buddy Willie from Brooklyn ride around in Harris' little Volkswagen Beetle looking for action, and the film's standout moment for me was seeing these three huge guys spill out of such a tiny car when running to the rescue with the hero in the big climax.
Which is surprisingly anti-climactic and involves a literal cliffhanger that has the most inappropriate dramatic music tacked onto it until BLACK EMANUELLE GOES EAST. It's more fun watching Harris & Willie batter down the iron door to the castle, and if anything director Rose missed an opportunity to better contrast this doofus Stan Wojohowitz-like American presence with the Italian culture they seem so out of place in. They are so huge every scene with Harris feels claustrophobic as he squeezes through doors or tries not to demolish the furniture by just leaning on it during conversation scenes.
There's some good bits to the film too, like Spaghetti Western actor Frank Latimore as a tortured cult associate driven mad by realizing he literally sold his soul, a welcome nude scene by Ms. Giordano, various torture sequences and a couple of potent gore effects. But when compared to the usual flair of Italian Giallo fare its all pretty artless & matter of fact. Not that there's anything wrong with that mind you, it's just a cheap little Italian B movie, and it's always life affirming seeing Brad Harris take two guys & crack their heads together like a pair of coconuts. Now that's the stuff!
5/10