ercoli

At this point I think we can skip the brief history of the Italian giallo genre, in all its twisted, seedy, sexy, blood-drenched glory. If you're unfamiliar with the specifics, check out Troy Howarth's 2015 book So Deadly, So Perverse which will not only introduce you to the major and minor titles, but inspire you to spend a small fortune tracking them all down. At least Arrow Video saves you a couple of bucks by packaging Death Walks in High Heels and Death Walks at Midnight together in a beautiful new box set. Both films are from producer-turned-director Luciano Ercoli and are beautifully entangled in conventions of the genre. If Argento’s work is the zenith of dream-logic creative excess – all style and fury, signifying nothing – then Ercoli should at least earn notoriety as the giallo antithesis, connecting his convoluted plots with so many clues, suspects, detectives and dead-ends your head will be spinning for days afterward. Made in 1971 and 1972 respectively, both films star Susan Scott (Ercoli’s wife), Simon Andreu and several other bit players, although no one plays the same role twice. As the heroine, Scott in particular gets to portray considerably different characters, first as Valentina, a fiery Italian fashion model who witnesses a violent murder while under the influence of an LSD-type drug in Death Walks at Midnight. It’s a familiar giallo motif – the questionable memory of an unreliable witness – that Ercoli promptly ignores for most of the rest of the film. After the violent set-up, the film plays out as a straight-forward mystery in very linear fashion, without the usual 20-minute pit-stops to refill the film’s tank with helpless victims. In fact, Midnight may be one of the most inoffensive giallos I’ve ever seen, which, when considering the genre’s audience, isn’t much of a compliment. However, there’s a certain appeal to Ercoli’s denial of these exploitation elements, teasing us with hints of danger and brutality that never occur until the film’s action-packed finale. But even this cathartic conclusion oddly re-introduces Andreu’s ancillary character for the big showdown, rather than Valentina, who did all the legwork. As with most entries in the genre, there’s no way on God’s green earth you’ll ever guess who’s the culprit until he or she reveals themselves. But in Midnight, that honestly seems to be Ercoli’s intention, saving the revelation for a choice moment that is truly a shocker. Factor in the film’s penchant for lightning quick verbal exchanges (those subtitles just fly across the screen) and more than a few stand-out visual moments (Valentina’s drug-induced visions are accompanied with a cool carotid camera shudder), and Midnight makes for yet another interesting deviation from the giallo norm. Its follow-up, Death Walk on High Heels, is a bit more fun, mostly due to Susan Scott’s unleashed sexual energy. As a Parisian stripper on the run, Scott showcases her body on several occasions, seduces men with her sultry eating habits, and wears more wigs than a season’s worth of Alias episodes. And she manages to pull it all off while avoiding an unseen stalker who believes she’s hiding a cache of stolen diamonds. When Scott disappears from the plot mid-way through the film, things return to Ercoli’s more reserved “murder-by-numbers” style. But with fewer suspects and an isolated setting – this time a quaint English village – it’s much more fun to guess who’s who and puzzle out motivations. High Heels is also lighter in tone, and more apt to have fun with its cast of exaggerated characters. A more likeable film all around, Ercoli hits a balance of sex, violence and humor that most genre fans will find irresistible. THE FEATURES: Despite a lack of commonplace commentaries and featurettes, this might be NoShame’s best looking package yet. Set in a slim-line case with classy cover art and lengthy liner notes, each feature film gets its own disc with a variety of trailers and still galleries. Death Walks at Midnight also includes the original TV version which adds several minutes to the running time. Remastered from the original negatives, the transfer on both films is simply stellar. And to sweeten the deal, the set also includes a CD entitled Love & Death with 13 tracks from the composer Stelvio Cipriani, featuring vintage music of the Italian giallo era.