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A
Lizard In A Woman's Skin
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Italy
- France - Spain / 1971
Directed
by Lucio Fulci
Starring
Florinda
Bolkan
Stanley
Baker
Anita
Strindberg
U.S.
VERSION: 95 Min.
ITALIAN VERSION: 98 Min.
Color / Not Rated
Format:
DVD (R1 - NTSC / 2-disc set)
Shriek Show
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7
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8 |
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10
= Highest Rating |
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I've
never been a fan of the late Italian director Lucio Fulci. I
was less than impressed by some of his more well-known horror
movies (The Beyond, House
By The Cemetery); I'm also unwilling to put the admittedly
enjoyable Zombie in the same league
as George A. Romero's Living Dead films. Until this writing
my favorite Fulci film was the giallo Don't
Torture A Duckling (1972); an even earlier murder mystery/thriller,
A Lizard In A Woman's Skin, shows
conclusively that Fulci benefited from the more confining parameters
of the whodunit. After all, a mystery has to make some
kind of logical sense (by the end, at least) or the audience
will feel cheated. To my mind, many of Fulci's horror films
are simply too open-ended, too loosely structured, to have much
impact, even when they splash the screen with squishy gore.
Grotesque, nightmarish imagery only goes so far... With little
or no logical reality to put it in context, where is the threat?
Where is the fear? The suspense? The dread? My tastes may be
too conventional, but for me, when a filmmaker displays a predilection
for 'cool' set-pieces over any kind of even semi-rational/coherent
narrative, it's usually just an excuse for a bad, shoddy script.
A surreal approach to horror is certainly a valid one, of course,
whether I personally care for it or not. But equally valid is
this viewer's reaction: I just might've given a shit had
any of this made a friggin' lick of sense!
...Which brings us back to A
Lizard In A Woman's Skin, known here in the States in
a slightly edited form as Schizoid. It's actually got
a plot. There's a murder. There are suspects. And the resolution
at film's end wraps up the loose threads. (You certainly won't
be left scratching your head at the finale — muttering "What
the hell was THAT?" — as with Fulci's City
Of The Living Dead.)
The mystery revolves around Carol Hammond
(Duckling's Florinda Bolkan), daughter
of a rich, prominent and politically-connected London barrister
(Leo Genn of The Bloody Judge).
Lately Carol — the frigid wife of her father's junior law partner
— has been having some rather bizarre sexual dreams about the
mysterious woman living in the townhouse apartment next door.
The neighbor, former model/actress Julia Durer (Who
Saw Her Die?'s Anita Strindberg), has a sordid reputation
for associating with hippies and riffraff. Gossip has it that
her raucous late night parties are drug-fueled, psychedelic
sex orgies. (The rumors are correct.) Carol tells her psychotherapist
about the dreams, in which she and Julia are lesbian lovers.
He theorizes that it's Carol's subconscious way of shedding
her sexual repression and inhibitions. She's to write down descriptions
of her dreams afterwards so as to unlock their hidden symbolism
in further therapy sessions.
On
a stormy night while her husband is away, Carol dreams of another
erotic encounter in Julia's flat —
only this time she stabs her lover to death with a dagger-like
letter opener. In the dream she also sees two hippies there,
a man and a woman with white, blind-looking eyes, whom she didn't
realize were present during the slaying. Reporting this to her
therapist, Carol is told that the 'murder' represents a psychic
break with her repressed hedonistic desires. But when it's discovered
that Julia actually was murdered shortly thereafter,
in exactly the way Carol described in her dream, it seems that
that break may be with her sanity instead. Carol's letter opener
was used as the murder weapon; it and her fur coat were found
at the crime scene. It would appear an open-and-shut case of
schizophrenic homicide for Scotland Yard... yet hard-nosed Inspector
Colvin (Zulu's Stanley Baker) senses
otherwise. So does Carol's father, who, desperate to believe
his daughter innocent and not insane, pulls a few strings to
get her out of police custody on bail. He suspects his son-in-law
(Jean Sorel) after learning the man has been cheating on Carol
for two years. Is Carol being framed for the killing? Did someone
read her notes and then replicate the dream in the commission
of the crime? The mystery deepens when Carol, resting at a private
clinic, is chased by the male Dream Hippy —
with obvious hostile intent, and this time during the day when
she's wide awake. Was he real? Or is his sinister reappearance
yet another symptom of mental instability?
Lizard
In A Woman's Skin
is a fine example of the giallo-style thriller, even
if (unlike a number of fellow aficionados) I'm not yet willing
to place it in the same exalted league as Argento's Deep
Red and Tenebre. There's no faceless,
black-gloved maniac on the loose here so the body count is absurdly
low compared to your 'typical' giallo. The film also
takes its sweet time establishing the outline of its central
puzzle and where the various characters fit into it. Fortunately
that puzzle happens to be a good, engaging mystery. Despite
a relatively small pool of suspects, one's guesses as to whodunit
will have to be reevaluated with each new twist in the plot.
Fulci certainly brings a surfeit of style to the proceedings,
employing a host of visual techniques (slo-mo, reverse, rapid
zoom, staccato editing, even a brief flirtation with split-screen)
to often stunning effect. The trippy, hallucinogenic dream sequences
are real highlights, as is the film's main suspense set-piece,
when Carol is pursued by a knife-wielding stalker through the
crypt-like bowels of a derelict cathedral. These are moments
of bravura moviemaking, easily placing Lizard
head and shoulders above all the Fulci films I've seen to date.
The cast is solid, too, at least in the lead roles, though Fulci's
attempt to give his detective a memorable character 'tic' —
Colvin is constantly whistling, often at inappropriate times
—
eventually becomes annoying. Maestro Ennio Morricone's dissonant,
nerve-jangling jazz-pop score complements the director's imagery
perfectly.
For my own personal
tastes the film is perhaps a bit too talky, a bit too leisurely
paced, to be placed alongside the very top-drawer gialli.
Apart from the dream sequences it doesn't truly kick into high
gear until the final half hour. Even so, if you're a giallo
fan you'd be remiss not to catch this one. (NOTE: My Movie Rating
of '7' applies to both the U.S. and Italian versions;
see below).
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Shriek
Show's February release of Lizard,
after a lengthy delay (the title was first announced in 2003),
has sparked controversy in the online cult movie fan community.
This is because the uncut Italian version of the film is relegated
to the status of a 'glorified extra' on Disc Two of the 2-DVD
set, its transfer mastered from a substandard videotape cropped
to 1.33 fullframe. The main presentation on Disc One —
utilizing a generally excellent-looking anamorphic widescreen
print —
is of the slightly watered down U.S. edit originally distributed
by American International Pictures under the title Schizoid.
Having now viewed both versions I can state that personally, I
really don't have too much of a problem with this.
So what's in the almost
three minutes of footage shorn by AIP for U.S. audiences? Some
additional nudity from Bolkan and Strindberg, an unimportant telephone
conversation between Bolkan's character and a gossipy neighbor,
and a few brief moments of gore, including the infamous 'eviscerated
dogs' seen at the clinic. While it's a shame that some of the
nudity was axed by AIP, I find that the removal of the gore does
not affect the consistency or tone of the film whatsoever. The
additional stabbing footage should have (in hindsight) been retained,
but quite frankly the dog sequence adds absolutely nothing
to the narrative. It doesn't have anything to do with the plot
or characters and seems to have been included for mere shock value.
(Had I been in Fulci's shoes, I would've cut it from the script
just to save the cost of building the animatronic dogs.) Still,
you can see everything that was trimmed via the Italian version
found on Disc Two. It's just not going to look anywhere near as
good.
The Schizoid
edit on Disc One is visually quite impressive despite being assembled
from two different sources (as stated in a disclaimer before the
film begins). It's not exactly pristine, and there's some minor
grain in evidence, but details are sharp, colors vivid and blacks
dark and deep. The 16x9 enhanced transfer is letterboxed at 1.85:1,
which is apparently the original aspect ratio —
the framing of shots does not appear compromised in any way. A
newly created Dolby 5.1 audio track really accentuates ambient
sound effects and (especially) Morricone's score, seemingly at
the expense of the English-language dialog, which comes off a
tad low in the mix. Even so, the distortion-free track is more
than satisfactory and certainly a cut above the norm for Euro-Cult
titles on Region 1 DVD. (The original mono English track is also
selectable.) Naturally, in contrast the fullframe Italian cut
—
coming as it does from an inferior source —
fares comparatively poorly. It's not so terrible as to be unwatchable,
though, being more akin to a decent-quality bootleg dupe. Apparently
this was the best print of the Italian version that SS could obtain.
Aside from the opportunity to see the AIP-excised footage (albeit
in the wrong aspect ratio), its chief merit is the mono Italian
language track with well-written English subtitles, which allows
for comparisons between the scripts.
In addition to the two
versions of the feature film, SS has packed the set with an impressive
roster of extras. On Disc One you'll find Lizard's
original theatrical trailer; two U.S. radio spots for Schizoid
(which sells it as a horror movie rather than a mystery/suspense
thriller); a trailer reel of six other Fulci-directed films; and
a lengthy (5½ min.) promotional
video for Death Trance, a Japanese
samurai vs. undead ninja epic which Shriek Show's parent company
Media Blasters will reportedly release in theaters later this
year. Disc Two contains a sizable image gallery —
comprised of behind-the-scenes stills, promotional artwork, video
covers and some cheesecake nudie shots of Bolkan and Strindberg
—
plus a terrific documentary on the film. Entitled Shedding
the Skin, the 33-minute featurette is hosted/narrated by Penny
Brown, who played hippy chick Jenny. Via film clips and recently
recorded interview sessions with various cast/crew members, it
provides not only an engaging retrospective on Lizard's
production and its director, Lucio Fulci (who died in 1996), but
also a general overview of the giallo subgenre.
Finally, as an extra
treat, SS has included a nice 8-page reproduction of AIP's original
Schizoid press kit.
3/08/05 |
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