A BLADE IN THE DARK
Italy | 1983
Directed by Lamberto Bava
Starring
Andrea Occhipinti
Anny Papa
Michele Soavi
Color
| 109 Minutes | Not Rated
Format: DVD (R0 - NTSC)
Blue Underground
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Review by
Brian Lindsey


Film:3
DVD:6
A textbook example of the giallo, Lamberto Bava's A Blade in the Dark is an obvious homage to Dario Agento, the Italian director who (along with Bava's father Mario) served as his filmmaking mentor. Bava worked as assistant director on Argento's Tenebre, shot the year before; that film's influence is readily apparent. A major plot element is lifted from Argento's Deep Red (1975) as well — Blade's story also revolves around a composer who finds himself embroiled in a bizarre series of homicides. But Argento was working with much bigger budgets, longer production schedules, and better stories. Unfortunately, A Blade in the Dark can't begin to compare to its inspirational sources.
    Originally envisioned as a limited, episodic series for Italian TV, it was shot with a European theatrical release also in mind. The spare scenario (penned by prolific exploitation scribe Dardano Sarchetti) establishes only the most bare-boned of plots. Bruno (Andrea Occhipinti), a young composer, rents a large, rambling villa in which to work on his latest project, the score for a horror film being directed by his friend Sandra (Anny Papa). To the detriment of Bruno's solitude the house comes complete with a suspicious-acting caretaker (are there any other types in Italian horror?) and some unexpected visitors — Katia (Valeria Cavalli) and Angela (Fabiola Toledo), two attractive women, acquaintances of the former tenant, who live nearby. When the women mysteriously disappear shortly after he meets them, Bruno begins to suspect they've been murdered on the premises... He can't find any bodies, but clues abound. (Knife-holes and bloodstains would certainly qualify in that regard.) Someone definitely entered the villa uninvited and destroyed his latest demo tape, that much is sure. Stupidly, Bruno never once picks up the phone to dial the police.
    If our dimwitted hero did the smart thing, however, there'd be no movie.
    So more people die horrible deaths. Meanwhile Bruno wanders about the house and its grounds, poking around and peering into the dark. There are a lot of such scenes in the flick, which will severely test the patience of even the most avid giallo fan. (Rapido, Lamberto!) Obviously this was done to pad out the running time; too many of these sequences are obvious red herrings, devoid of any suspense, or just plain pointless.
    Bava does pile on the shocks, though, in the film's two main murder sequences. The stalking/slaying of Katia owes a lot to Tenebre in look and style (particularly the murder of the hotelier's daughter in that film), but Bava ends the set-piece with an original motif — the victim is trapped behind a sheet of chickenwire through which the killer slowly slashes her to death with a box-cutter — that's guaranteed to get your flesh crawling. The death of Angela, when she's attacked in the villa's bathroom, is a real doozy: a brutal, nihilistic bit of filmmaking that some could easily interpret as an exercise in misogynistic sadism. (Here Bava does for hair-washing in the sink what Hitchcock's Psycho did to taking a shower.) But amidst the unrepentant brutality Bava injects an occasional touch of sardonic humor, most notably when Sandra the horror director is strangled with a spool of her own film — murdered with her own movie.
    Aside from the visceral thrills and chills generated by these murder scenes the film is pretty much a dud. The characters are all uninvolving ciphers. It's not much of a mystery, either; most of the red herrings offered up by the plot are plainly obvious for what they are. As mentioned, an inordinate amount of time is spent following Bruno as he wanders about the villa, checking this room and that — scenes devoid of dialog but accompanied by repetitious music that quickly becomes annoying. In one way the dearth of dialog is a good thing… The English dubbing job is poor, featuring ludicrous translations ("You're a female!"/"I am not a female child!" etc.) that might be funny in a Godzilla movie, but not one about a sadistic serial killer. At times it seems evident that the translators weren't even looking at a copy of the script... How else can one explain the scene in which Bruno chides Katia over her fear of a spider, telling her with a straight face that the bug isn't even a spider, but rather a cockroach… at the very moment we're shown a close-up shot of — yep — a spider. (Huh???)
    The film has its champions, no doubt appreciative of its effective, wince-inducing murder set-pieces. I love gialli, too — just not A Blade in the Dark. Given my druthers, I'd much rather watch Bava's supernatural splatterfest Demons (1985) for the umpteenth time than sit through this one again.
  

A Blade in the Dark is among the former Anchor Bay titles reissued by Blue Underground in 2007. The 1.85:1 widescreen transfer is old, dating from 2001, but is 16x9 enhanced and looks quite good all things considered. (Since the film was originally shot in 16mm the picture is understandably on the grainy side.) The Dolby mono audio track is serviceably clear. In addition to talent bios and the theatrical trailer, a short (10 min.) video interview with director Lamberto Bava and screenwriter Dardano Sarchetti is included. (This is in Italian, with good English subtitles. Do not watch this before viewing the film itself. It's chock full of spoilers, including the murderer's identity.) 11/08/09
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