Chi l'ha vista morire?

An obvious catalyst to Nic Roeg's Don't Look Now. This film had a great first half but after that it sort of lost the plot a bit. The ending was horrible and some of the dialogue to risible. On the positive side, the settings were splendid and the music was harrowing at times.If your interested in Giallo films this is not the place to start your mission. Try Aldo Lado's far superior Short Night of Glass Dolls instead.

I don't know if it says more about Ennio Morricone or the movie itself that the most readily grabbing part of the production is the composer's score. The emphatic use of a children's choir in the soundtrack, particularly in that discordant theme that accompanies the killers movements, is altogether chilling, not least given the subject matter. 'Who saw her die?' occupies the thriller side of giallo more than the horror, but Morricone's music lends a tension to the proceedings that rather helps to tilt the needle. Put this aside and one may well remark on some recognizable names and faces in the cast, but even at that, this movie doesn't necessarily stand out otherwise. Make no mistake, all the stylings of the Italian genre are here in abundance - the very specific camerawork, the method of building and escalating the mystery, the weirdly particular type of fake blood. Even if it's not an essential must-see, however, 'Who saw her die?' is nonetheless capably engaging, and worth checking out.

Lent a hand with terrific selection of film locations, filmmaker Aldo Lado demonstrates a keen eye for arranging shots and scenes; the basic visual presentation is itself fair reason to watch. This includes fetching hair and makeup work, costume design, and art direction, and more so instances of violence, and those few stunts that we see. The ensemble give swell performances of controlled range and personality, with George Lazenby unexpectedly making at least as much of an impression as co-stars like Anita Strindberg. And especially with all this in mind, in those scenes of most immediate peril for one character or another, the feature ably builds strong tension that keeps one's attention.

As great as each individual element may be, however, the whole feels lesser than the sum of its parts. The main issue I see is that there's no real sense of dynamics in the picture. From expositions to killings, from investigation to climax and ending, 'Who saw her die?' carries the same tone all the way, with only the music offering major variation. If the classic model of narrative progression is a triangle with rising action on one side, peaking at the climax, and resolving with falling action, this movie mostly feels like a single flat line. As if to emphasize - I was shocked to glance at the digital timer at one point and learn that more than two-thirds the runtime had elapsed; for whatever had transpired in the story, it doesn't meaningfully feel like it goes anywhere. And for that matter, if we accept at face value the threads connecting bits and pieces of the plot where the killer is concerned, still the progression of the protagonist's investigation seems haphazard and flimsy, not least of all given little to no sense of rise and fall in the plot development.

One way or the other, I guess what it ultimately comes down to is that wherever it lands on the spectrum of quality, this falls in neatly among its giallo brethren. On some baseline level our expectations of the genre will be met, and it's just a question of how well. I think 'Who saw her die?' is better than not, and a decent way to spend 90 minutes, with the caveat that it has distinct faults that prevent it from meeting its full potential. So long as you're looking for passing entertainment over an actively compelling viewing experience, this is worth a look, and recommendable most of all for fans of the cast or of Morricone.

"Who Saw Her Die" was a great little surprise. I had been searching for it for a little while, and when I had found it, I was happy to find that it was a much better film for actor George Lazenby ("On Her Majesty's Secret Service"), then the other films he had been making at that time ("Universal Soldier", "Stoner" etc.). It is a tad annoying to see that he was completely dubbed (a standard Italian practice I've heard), but I didn't find this too distracting from the film. It does however contain a great eerie soundtrack supplied by Ennio Morricone, which seems to jump in everytime we are viewing the killer's point of view through a veil. It's also a lot more mature than the typical Italian Giallo of that time, It's never too grautuidice in it's gore or nudity. It does contain great cinematography, especially great if viewed in widescreen. George Lazenby's daughter in the film is played by a little girl that seemed to play in every Giallo/ Horror flick that ever got produced in Italy ("Bay Of Blood", "Deep Red", and "Andy Warhol's Frankenstein"), which is due no doubt to her very unusual looks. Also, the fact that they have a cameo from Adolfo Celli ("Thunderball") makes me think that director had a James Bond fascination. The only problems I really have of the film, is that the ending is a little unclimactic and predictable (you guess who it is, before they show you). A slight influence from Nick Roeg's "Don't Look Now" is evident. Other than this, quite a little gem of a film. And actually hold's up to some of Dario Argento's earlier work, if not better.

In 1972, writer-director Aldo Lado made two outstanding giallos, THE SHORT NIGHT OF THE GLASS DOLLS (a.k.a. PARALYZED) and this film, which predates Nicholas Roeg's similar but far more well-known DON'T LOOK NOW (1973).

Young Roberta (Nicoletta Elmi) arrives in Venice from London to visit her father, celebrated sculptor Franco (George Lazenby). Franco's estranged wife, Elizabeth (Anita Strindberg), stays in England. After a few days, as Franco is making love to a girlfriend, Roberta is kidnapped. Soon after, her corpse is found floating in a canal.

Racked with guilt, Franco investigates the crime on his own. His chief suspects include a prominent but ruthless businessman, Serafian (Adolfo Celi), and an attorney with a history of pedophilia (Peter Chantel). He suspects both men know more about Roberta's death than they let on. Meanwhile, though, the killer is always one step ahead of Franco, knocking off everyone who might be inclined to help him.

Lado and co-scenarists Massimo D'Avak and Francesco Barilli add many subtle touches to the rather crude story line. For example, Venice itself becomes a character and conspirator, and is photographed as a nearly colorless and malevolent place. Early in the movie, Franco shows his disrespect for the city, offhandedly remarking that "Venice is a dead city," and wishing it would simply sink into the water. Later, we see that the businessman and attorney, representing the old money and establishment values that run and keep Venice "afloat," conspire to protect the killer and, indirectly, to "punish" Franco.

Not only is Venice viewed as a deeply evil, it twists -- even in small ways -- the people who live there. In the early minutes of WHO SAW HER DIE?, most of the male characters are shown touching or petting Roberta rather inappropriately. In addition, the local constabulary is extremely lame and inactive. When the bodies start to pile up in the wake of Franco's investigation, a detective tells him to let the police handle the dangerous work. Of course, they continue to do nothing but in the end take full credit for catching the killer. This conspiracy of silence extends even to the father of a child who was killed in a manner consistent with the way Roberta was killed. When Franco tries to enlist his help, the father acts suspiciously and refuses to get involved.

The movie's conspiracy subtext extends to two secondary characters, Phillip and Ginevra, who wish to escape Serafian's grip but cannot. In the Venetian universe created by Lado and Co., Ginevra is willing to both help Franco find the killer and expose Serafian as indirectly responsible for Roberta's death. For her trouble, Ginevra is murdered but nonetheless helps Franco get closer to revealing the killer's identity.

In and around these rich contextual elements, the giallo aspects of WHO SAW HER DIE seem rather perfunctory. To be fair, however, there are a couple of well done thrill-for-thrill's-sake stalking sequences, and one creepy moment when Elizabeth, alone in Franco's apartment, is terrified by bumps in the night that are nothing more than a housekeeper doing some chores. And Ennio Morricone's excellent score features a purely musical insight into the killer's tormented mind, a kind of "murderer's refrain" that is punctuated with calls and cries by a chorus of young female voices.

I am required by law to mention that this film is similar to Nicholas Roeg's Don't Look Now, made a year later. So that's that out of the way.

Who Saw Her Die begins in the French mountains with a red-haired girl being murdered by what looks like an old woman wearing a black veil. We then kick in with Ennio Morricone's outstanding soundtrack made up of a child's choir and harpsichord – a far cry from twangy guitars and harmonicas! I should note here that this soundtrack woke my daughter up and freaked her out from two rooms away!

In Venice, skinny sculptor George Lazenby is happy that his daughter Roberta has come from London to visit him, although it's clear by her absence that things aren't going too well with his wife Anita Strinberg as she's stayed behind. Worse still, an old woman in a black veil stalking the kid and seems determined to murder her, which happens while George is banging his mistress.

George is distraught and blames himself for his daughter's death, leading him on an obsessive quest to find the killer, which will lead him down sleazy avenues involving the rich and powerful in Venice. This being a giallo, the killer gets wind of this and tries to eliminate some of the witnesses…

Even though it's not a top tier giallo, this film is still worth a watch due to the misty Venice location shooting, Morricone's creepy soundtrack, and the acting talents of Adolfo Celi, who here, like in the film Eye of the Labyrinth, can seemingly change his mood and personality with subtle facial expressions and posture. The mystery isn't that hard to solve if you've watched a few of these films, but that's not going to put anyone off, is it?

Why are Lazenby and Strinberg so thin though?