Sam Dalmas is an American writer in Rome who witnesses an attempted murder through the window of an art gallery. In trying to re-visualise the scene, something is amiss but he cannot think what. Meanwhile, the killer is stalking the city and taunting the police. Sam decides to play detective; can he solve the mystery before the killer catches up with him ?
Dario Argento's directorial debut (he had been a screenwriter, most notably on Once Upon A Time In The West) is one of his best films, and perhaps the most famous of the Italian giallo thrillers (the term giallo/yellow comes from a series of yellow paperback crime novels). Like many of his later thrillers, the plot is a little bit mad, filled with seemingly illogical plot developments, excessive violence, absurdist humour and nutty supporting characters (like the cat-eating artist). But this is part of the charm of his pictures for me - the central plot device of showing you the attack and then suggesting you didn't quite see what you thought you did is irresistible, and Argento's cinematic panache is riveting. He seems to generate suspense effortlessly out of nothing, aided by a creepy lullaby of an Ennio Morricone score. Argento's style is evocative of the great Mario Bava, but much more fluid, subjective and arresting, playing all sorts of tricks with montage, lighting and sound. The cast are pleasantly variable; American Musante and British Kendall are an appealing leading couple, ably supported by the solid Italian character actors, and an uncredited Nalder (the scary vampire in the seventies mini-series Salem's Lot) is memorable as a yellow-jacketed hoodlum who meets with a sticky end. Brilliantly photographed by the triple Oscar-winning Vittorio Storaro, in slightly more working-class days, and sensationally scripted by the director, loosely based on Fredric Brown's influential book The Screaming Mimi (filmed previously in 1958). If you like elegant drawing-room whodunnits with toffs and all the plot-threads neatly tied up, give this a miss. But if you like wild, hair-raising psycho-thrillers, this is one of the most original and influential of all. English title - The Bird With The Crystal Plumage.
Dario Argento's directorial debut (he had been a screenwriter, most notably on Once Upon A Time In The West) is one of his best films, and perhaps the most famous of the Italian giallo thrillers (the term giallo/yellow comes from a series of yellow paperback crime novels). Like many of his later thrillers, the plot is a little bit mad, filled with seemingly illogical plot developments, excessive violence, absurdist humour and nutty supporting characters (like the cat-eating artist). But this is part of the charm of his pictures for me - the central plot device of showing you the attack and then suggesting you didn't quite see what you thought you did is irresistible, and Argento's cinematic panache is riveting. He seems to generate suspense effortlessly out of nothing, aided by a creepy lullaby of an Ennio Morricone score. Argento's style is evocative of the great Mario Bava, but much more fluid, subjective and arresting, playing all sorts of tricks with montage, lighting and sound. The cast are pleasantly variable; American Musante and British Kendall are an appealing leading couple, ably supported by the solid Italian character actors, and an uncredited Nalder (the scary vampire in the seventies mini-series Salem's Lot) is memorable as a yellow-jacketed hoodlum who meets with a sticky end. Brilliantly photographed by the triple Oscar-winning Vittorio Storaro, in slightly more working-class days, and sensationally scripted by the director, loosely based on Fredric Brown's influential book The Screaming Mimi (filmed previously in 1958). If you like elegant drawing-room whodunnits with toffs and all the plot-threads neatly tied up, give this a miss. But if you like wild, hair-raising psycho-thrillers, this is one of the most original and influential of all. English title - The Bird With The Crystal Plumage.