The House with Laughing Windows

What’s a giallo without copious amounts of blood, gratuitous nudity and acrobatic camerawork? 1976’s The House with Laughing Windows manages to avoid all that but still fit comfortably in a genre known more for its excessive exclamation marks than actual narrative coherence. Director Pupi Avati creates a giallo more by implication than definition, leaning into Gothic cliches and an almost puritanical approach to sexuality…until he doesn’t.

Hired to restore a disturbing fresco in a quiet country village, Stefano receives disturbing anonymous phone calls warning him to back off. But curiosity leads him to uncover the artist’s history, revealing a sadomasochist-incestuous past with ties to the local citizenry who have pledged a vow of silence. The answers lie buried in the bricks and mortar of the decaying tourist town that would prefer its dead stay buried.

Avati seems determined to prove he can make a “respectable” giallo. The pieces are all there: ominous artwork (Deep Red), mysterious townsfolk (Don’t Torture a Duckling) and a naïve protagonist in over his head. There’s a general sense of menace embodied by supporting characters with only enough depth to be convincing red herrings. But for all his attempts to dodge the seedier aspects of the genre, Pupi still winds up making a deliberate artistic pivot at the end just for shock value. Laughing Windows is a slow-paced departure from the work of Argento and company, discretely panning the camera when the clothes come off and cutting away when the knives come out. Emphasizing mood over momentum and atmosphere over action, the film will be a palate cleanser for some….and a patience tester for others.

Somehow neglected in all of the big giallo collections released over the last ten years, Arrow finally gives The House with Laughing Windows a 4K restoration on its new Ultra HD limited edition with a set of matching newly-produced extras. Two audio commentaries, a feature-length documentary, two visual essays, fold-out poster and collector’s booklet make this one a particularly satisfying gap-filler in the giallo film fan’s collection.