Davitelj protiv davitelja

This film remains one of the gems of Yugoslav cinema – and one of the most under-appreciated. It is a strange mix of horror and comedy, hilarious, bizarre, unsettling and not for everyone's tastes.

The plot kicks off with the narrator explaining that Belgrade cannot yet claim to be a world metropolis. It is, as the calm female voice informs us, missing a vital ingredient: a master criminal! Petty hoodlums aside, Belgrade is about to get the king of criminals: a Strangler (and as the title suggests, not one but two).

The strangler is the overweight, middle-aged Pera Mitic (Tasko Nacic), still living with his mother and earning a meagre living by selling carnations. Tragically, at the time our story is set, carnations are out of fashion and Pera's flowers are often refused by women, sometimes rudely. To get his revenge, Pera begins strangling beautiful women - especially the ones with a dislike for carnations. The futile investigations of the Belgrade police force are led by the competent (but mentally fragile) inspector Ognjen Strahinjic (Nikola Simic). His prime suspect is a dissatisfied youth named Spiridon Kopicl (Srdjan Saper), whose rock band rides the controversy by releasing the hit single 'Come here baby, so I could strangle you'.

As the above paragraph suggests, the plot is utterly ridiculous. However, the movie (and especially the earnest voice-over) is played absolutely straight, giving this film a touch of comedy genius. Moreover, as the increasingly bizarre events unfold, the film takes on a distinctly unsettling path, with the conclusion being almost out and out horror. The laughs are still there, but they take on a slightly nervous quality.

Most of the actors are at the top of their game. Tasko Nacic is funny and at the same time disturbing as the monster-man-child, talking to his customers, his mother and his victims in the same plaintive, whiny voice. Srdjan Saper is not as effective, but adequate as the deeply confused, talented but quite stupid young man. Nikola Simic is absolutely hilarious as the put-upon inspector, growing increasingly more manic and unhinged during the course of the film, often acting far crazier than the supposed madmen he is supposed to be pursuing. Arguably, the standout is Rahela Ferari, who, as Pera's mother, essentially offers a glimpse at what Mrs. Bates might have been like in her livelier days.

This is also one of the only films I have ever seen where a voice-over narration is used effectively. Delivered in a deadly earnest, reporter style voice, the narration manages to add to the overall mood and also provides some of the funniest moments, including the excellent conclusion.

It is difficult to know who to recommend this film to, as I can think of nothing I can compare it with. Maybe if the Monty Python guys decided to remake Psycho the results might have been similar. Or maybe it was a product of its time and place and we will never see anything like it again. Watch it and find out.

It's amazing! Somewhere between Hitchcock and Kubrick. So good! It's a Serbian gem

Making fun of one city's urge to become metropolis, at the time that eventually became known as vintage for Belgrade's rock 'n' roll scene whose talented members highly contributed to this Sijan's first big urban movie after two masterpieces placed in rural ("Ko to tamo peva") and small town ("Maratonci...") surroundings.

When it comes to Serbian (Yugoslavian) horror movies, only masterpieces can be found. They all have unique stories, great actors, excellent camera, good pace and very odd twists in stories.

"Davitelj" have cult status in Serbia. It is a story about real people in real situations. Scariest thing is fact that serial killer can be your neighbor, or you can be killed 'cose you wearing pants and dislike flowers! When you watching "Davitelj" you laugh, then you scream, and so on. And you scream very loud. And laugh too.

The movie that you will watch again and again and again,...

And you'll be infected by very good soundtrack.

Strangler's handling of deadpan, grotesque cruelty and black humour is somewhat similar to the mixture Alex de la Iglesia would perfect in his movies a decade later. The tonal shifts from horror to humour and back again are done well, with only an occasional unevenness, but the film's artificiality (voiceover narration, intertitles, grotesque exaggeration, etc.) may alienate some viewers. Sijan is to be commended for his courage in parodying a genre that has never been too popular with Serbian moviegoers in the first place. Strangler's thematic and stylistic subversiveness was part of the fresh air in Serbian cinema at the time, inspired by the New Wave movement: a wide front of artists and critics based around Belgrade's Student Cultural Center, involved in alternative rock'n'roll, literature, arts and the movies.

The picture was shown at the San Francisco International Film Festival in the mid-'80s, and I was surprised to meet an American poet there who could recite memorable lines from Strangler a full twenty years later (some of them in Serbian!). It is a testament to this film's lasting power which, unfortunately, remains limited only to Serbian filmgoers since an English-dubbed DVD is still nowhere in sight.