If you scroll through the reviews, people even admit this is not a great giallo, but then they've given it 9 stars so I am going to deflate it from a 6 to a 5 because it is scandalous to recommend The Fifth Cord as if its one of the stronger giallos.
A typical macho creepazoid drunkenly paws his ex-wife, shows up occasionally to see his kids, carries on an affair with a college student who might still be in her late teens (including smacking her across the face because she hadn't seen her mother in a month), and obsessively strives to solve a murder case although he can't stand his overweight, asthmatic boss. Ho hum. HUGE SWATHS OF THIS FILM are composed with these dull details of the ins and outs of this thoroughly unlikable detective's life. There is also a distinctive lack of history and culture which would be specific to Italy, and the attempts to be modern are nothing special, highlighted by boring high rises that are a dime a dozen in the 21st century and city streets that could pass for a borough of New York or a district of LA county. There's none of the colorful fashion and glamour that make other minor giallos like Smile Before Death or Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion pop.
While there's not a lot of gore or overt pornography, there's a lack of suspense in favor of this laughable "character study" and scenes of people aggressively french kissing carry on far too long and actually border on the nauseating in some parts of the film. There aren't any especially charismatic female leads like Barbara Bouchet, Edwige Fenech or Ida Galli, instead we're left with a spotty, unimpressive performance by some statuesque housewife who seems included in the film as a prop rather than as a real main character.
5 stars for the awesome early 20th century house and dusty, antiquated rooms where a disabled middle aged woman bodily drags herself across a marble floor just to be tossed down a flight of stairs by the killer.
A typical macho creepazoid drunkenly paws his ex-wife, shows up occasionally to see his kids, carries on an affair with a college student who might still be in her late teens (including smacking her across the face because she hadn't seen her mother in a month), and obsessively strives to solve a murder case although he can't stand his overweight, asthmatic boss. Ho hum. HUGE SWATHS OF THIS FILM are composed with these dull details of the ins and outs of this thoroughly unlikable detective's life. There is also a distinctive lack of history and culture which would be specific to Italy, and the attempts to be modern are nothing special, highlighted by boring high rises that are a dime a dozen in the 21st century and city streets that could pass for a borough of New York or a district of LA county. There's none of the colorful fashion and glamour that make other minor giallos like Smile Before Death or Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion pop.
While there's not a lot of gore or overt pornography, there's a lack of suspense in favor of this laughable "character study" and scenes of people aggressively french kissing carry on far too long and actually border on the nauseating in some parts of the film. There aren't any especially charismatic female leads like Barbara Bouchet, Edwige Fenech or Ida Galli, instead we're left with a spotty, unimpressive performance by some statuesque housewife who seems included in the film as a prop rather than as a real main character.
5 stars for the awesome early 20th century house and dusty, antiquated rooms where a disabled middle aged woman bodily drags herself across a marble floor just to be tossed down a flight of stairs by the killer.