I’ve been in a giallo frame of mind lately. I never know where these moods come from, but I tend to follow them when I can. Watching something I’m not in the mood for is a recipe for disliking a film just because it’s not the “flavor” I want. And what I wanted this week was stylish murders, dramatic lighting, nonsensical plots and beautiful people. This was precipitated by watching Sergio Martino’s The Suspicious Death of a Minor. It’s not really a giallo – more of a politziotteschi, or crime/action film – but it had enough of the notes of a giallo to whet my appetite.
So, I went looking for some of the (many) giallo movies on my list that I hadn’t seen yet. Particularly The House With Laughing Windows, which I have had recommended to me many times. Then, on Saturday, I came across a used copy of Blood and Black Lace – one of the very first gialli. As we’re doing double features this month it was an easy choice to pair the two films.
If you’re wondering “what the hell is a giallo?” here’s a quote from my reviews of The Night Evelyn Came Out of the Grave and The Red Queen Kills Seven Times:
“Oh, here’s the obligatory overview paragraph about the giallo genre. The name itself comes from the Italian word for yellow, and is a reference to a series of pulp crime novels released with bright yellow covers in Italy. The film genre is generally regarded as starting with Mario Bava’s The Girl Who Knew Too Much in 1963 and Bava looms large in the early history of the giallo. The genre really took off in 1970 with the release of Dario Argento’s first film, The Bird With the Crystal Plumage and the next five or so years would see the vast bulk of the giallo films released. Giallo films are known for convoluted plots, stylish kills, dramatic music and beautiful women.”
I’m still in the giallo mood and will probably watch The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh and What Have You Done to Solange? later. For now, though, let’s visit an Italian fashion house and a rural village to see what kind of horrible things people are getting up to in the night.
The Medium(s)
I happened to pick up a used copy of Arrow’s 2016 Blu-ray release of Blood and Black Lace just this past weekend. It’s region free and looks great, with a ton of extras. There’s a 2023 4k release from the UK that’s also region free, but it’s out of print and going for big bucks. For streaming options, it’s available for free with ads on Hoopla, Plex, Tubi and Darkroom and for subs on AMC+, Fandor, Shudder, Screambox and Flix Fling. It can be purchased or rented on Amazon and Flix Fling.
The House With Laughing Windows was only released on DVD in the US and can be found for fairly cheap online. For streaming options in the US… well, there aren’t any legal ones. If you’re in the UK, you can watch it on Amazon Prime. There’s a new 4k release coming from Shameless, but that’ll be Region B only. There are options online, but you’ll have to find them yourself.
Blood and Black Lace
“You’ve got to believe me! I burned it, I tell you. I burned it!”
Mari Bava was an Italian filmmaker who worked first as an effects artist and cinematographer, and you can see his talent with light and color in his films. His first acknowledged directing effort was 1960’s Black Sunday, a film that made Barbara Steele a horror movie star. In 1963 he directed The Girl Who Knew Too Much, which launched the giallo sub-genre. “The Telephone” segment of his portmanteau film Black Sabbath refined the giallo further, but it was this film – Blood and Black Lace – that laid down the elements which would inform the giallo going forward. Primarily, dramatic, sexually charged murders as set pieces, strung together by a mystery that is of secondary importance and featuring an unknown killer that wears black gloves (and a mask, in this case).
Blood and Black Lace has a great opening sequence, introducing all of the main characters in the film as they stand amongst brightly colored mannequins in a darkened set. It reminds me of early James Bond film credits. From there we enter the grounds of Christian Haute Couture, a fashion house gearing up for a show. Unfortunately, Isabella (Francesca Ungaro), one of the models, won’t be making an appearance at the show, as she’s brutally murdered by an assailant wearing a trenchcoat, fedora, and blank facemask.
As a comic book fan, the murderer’s outfit always reminds me of The Question, a classic Charleston and DC Comics hero.
The next day, the employees and owners of the fashion house are questioned by inspector Silvestri (Thomas Reiner) regarding their whereabouts during the murder and any possible motives. The plot (as it is with so many giallos) is secondary in the film and reminds me of nothing so much as a soap opera. Characters are interchangeable (I kept forgetting who it was with the cocaine addiction) and motivations are mostly personal and petty. The only characters that stood out for me were the owners – Massimo (Cameron Mitchell) and Contessa Cuomo (Eva Bartok) – mostly because I’ve seen the actors in other films.
It turns out that the murdered girl had a diary, one in which she recorded everything she saw and heard. Almost everyone at the fashion house has a reason to fear the diary becoming public, and so anyone could be a suspect. The murders continue and grow ever more violent and baroque as the killer attempts to find the diary.
The various murders are the highlights of the film and are worth sitting through the rather straightforward plot. The look and feel of the film sometimes remind me of early Hammer productions, with good set design, stylish outfits and bright colors and an emphasis on mood over story. For me, the film peaks with a chase sequence through a darkened antiques warehouse, all shadows, odd curios, and technicolor lights. (So much purple/magenta!)
The reason for the murders turns out to be mundane (and I’m once again reminded of soap operas), but the final killings and twists are entertaining.
The Bottom Line
Primarily important as the film that cemented the foundations of the giallo, Blood and Black Lace is also an entertaining mystery, elevated by dramatic lighting and violent action. It never attains the excesses of either design or bloodletting that its progeny would in the 1970s, but it absolutely stands out from the other crime/horror films of the time. It would be several more years before Dario Argento invigorated the giallo with The Bird With the Crystal Plumage, but it all really started here with red mannequins, a gloved killer and a blank face.
The House with Laughing Windows
“My colors… my colors…”
From the gory glories of one of the progenitors of the giallo sub-genre, we now go to one of the later entries, and one that eschews the excesses of its predecessors to invest in creeping dread and an eerie mood. It’s still recognizably a giallo, with a protagonist who stumbles upon a mystery, only to get obsessively involved as the body count rises, but it doesn’t treat the plot as a vehicle to drive you to the murderous set pieces.
The House with Laughing Windows starts out with a scene of brutal torture, with a man strung up by his arms and stabbed repeatedly by figures that looks something like nuns, while a voice whispers about “colors” and “blood.” The film then asks us to put a pin in this, and we’re introduced to the main protagonist, Stefano (Lino Capolicchio). He’s been employed by a small village to restore a church fresco. The fresco, purported to be a representation of the martyrdom of Saint Sebastion, is disturbing, as is the behavior of many of the people that Stefano meets. The town, it seems, has a dark secret, and it’s somehow related to the fresco and its creator, the long-dead artist Legnani.
While The House with Laughing Windows is a giallo, there are elements of folk horror that permeate the film. (Like, I assume, the smell of the ocean at low tide – the village being surround by salt marshes.) Stefano is the outsider, the innocent other that finds himself in an insular community with secrets and resentments that he knows nothing about, but can’t help becoming involved in.
There is a sense of strangeness that permeates the film from Stefano’s arrival, and that oddness informs his interactions with everyone, from the priest at the church, to the diminutive mayor, to the town drunk. The only person who doesn’t seem to have some sort of hidden agenda is the new school teacher, Francesca (Francesca Marciano), who arrived at the same time as Stefano, and they quickly become involved.
Despite having been invited to work on the fresco, there are elements of the town that would prefer not to see the painting restored. It seems that Legnani has a dark reputation as a painter of the ultimate agony, the pain of death. All his paintings are based on models in the final throws of death, and not all of those deaths may have been natural.
Stefano, like any giallo protagonist, can’t help but be fascinated by the painter’s history and the mystery of his supposed death and disappearance. Even as people begin to die and the antagonism of the townsfolk grows, he continues his investigation, heading toward a final, deadly confrontation.
The cinematography by Pasquale Rachini is fantastic, with sweeping vistas of salt marsh contrasted with dark, narrow doorways in dimly lit houses. There’s a softness to everything, and a subdued color palette – another difference from other gialli – that contributes to the feeling of something being off. Even the sun seems muted. Some compositions are so elegant that they remind me of classic paintings.
There are other elements that remind me that this is indeed a giallo, and not some lost, Italian folk horror film. The twisty plot that doesn’t always make sense (and doesn’t tie up every element). A secret diary and tape recordings impart important (and cryptic) plot points. Strange friendships and trusts that are given too easily and with dire consequences. The sex and gore is fairly tame for a giallo, but it’s there, if only to remind us of the extremes of human existence.
The Bottom Line
The House with Laughing Windows is, I don’t know, more subtle than other gialli, I guess. It’s artistic, in content and execution. That also means it’s slower, with less of the highs (and lows) that I’ve come to expect from the genre. It’s not as exciting as Deep Red or even Blood and Black Lace, but it’s somehow more satisfying (even with the typically crazy ending). I’m already looking forward to watching it again.
The Bottom Bottom Line
From the origins of the giallo to the outer fringe. I enjoyed both these films, even though they couldn’t be more different in presentation. It reminded me that the giallo – as restricted by conventions, in some ways, as a genre can get – is also capable of quite varied expressions. If you can only watch one, I’d pick The House with Laughing Windows (if you can even find it), but they’re both worth checking out.
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