I immersed myself with Dario Argento/Mario Bava/Lucio Fulci flicks a few years back (so probably 10 years back) having approached them most likely from my immersion in Italian zombie films of the 70s, which was actually a thing. Relatively recently (so probably a few years back) I watched Argento’s The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, a stylish thriller and a departure from his standard psychological horror. It hooked me.
And so I became obsessed with Italian giallo films. Their characteristics, generally, include: murder (natch), suggestive supernatural elements, the absolute grooviest clothing and interior design that you could ever imagine from 70s Italy–even if the setting was ostensibly the US or Germany or wherever–and a high breasts-per-scene ratio. The mood will range from thrilling cat and mouse tension to a Gothic molasses of lingering ennui. A more keen eye than mine could enumerate more fully on the shared cinematic tropes. The quality, as with anything of course, is greater-or-lesser but they are never a waste of time if you’re looking for that impossible combination of gritty murder and stylish, iconic 70s.
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