L'île de l'épouvante

An industrialist invites some of his friends to his island retreat in order to persuade a chemist (William Berger better known as Django}to sell them his new secret formula for an industrial resin. Of course he doesn't want to sell at any price and this leads to resentment and veiled threats which leads to all on the island being killed off one by one, in this "Ten little Indians" type thriller and of course there is a storm brewing and the phones are down, I think you get the picture….Now how do I review a Bava film without mentioning "Stylish" or "Superb use of Colour"…. I don't think I can really,but I will try…..This films theme is reminiscent of Bava's more famous work Bay of Blood, with its high body count….it has a funky little score too, very 60's…..the film at times tends towards black comedy with the body bags swinging in the freezer, I have to say it made me laugh and as with all Bava films the women are quite nice to look at…in particular Edwige Fenech a lady I have heard a lot about and I can see why….all in all an enjoyable little thriller, not Bava's best work but certainly worth a look

One of the few films directed by Italian horror maestro Mario Bava that I hadn't seen, as well as a film starring my latest object of cinematic lust, Edwige Fenech, 1970's "Five Dolls for an August Moon" was one that I eagerly popped into my DVD player at home. And it turns out that it was well worth the wait. In this very interesting giallo, a group of businessmen convenes, with their wives, at an ultramodern beach house on what looks to be a lonely Mediterranean island, with the purpose of convincing a scientist to sell them the formula for his new industrial resin. Before long, though, "Ten Little Indians" style, the group's members start to be killed off one by one, and, in a nice, eerie touch, are kept hanging in plastic wrap in the house's meat locker. The plot here is complex enough without being ultimately impossible to understand or swallow, although one or two points do not withstand logical consideration after the movie is done. Still, Bava's direction is typically stylish, with some memorable set pieces (dig those bouncing marbles!); a chic, jazzy score by Piero Umiliani aids immeasurably in moving things along (what a terrific soundtrack CD this film could have!); and the picture, though not as graphically violent as, say, Bava's "Twitch of the Death Nerve" (1971), still provides some grisly moments. And Edwige? Well, whether doing a frenzied dance number in gold lame bell-bottoms and matching brassiere or strutting around in various states of undress, this luscious Eurobabe does not disappoint. She is easily the hottest of the "five dolls" here; whotta knockout! My thanks to Image Entertainment for this great-looking DVD of a film never released theatrically here in the U.S.

"Maestro of the Macabre" Mario Bava directs this island-set murder mystery, which owes more than a little to Agatha Christie's Ten Little Indians. Although it has some of the hallmarks of giallo – a bevy of vixens luxuriating upon middle-aged sleazebags, ropey dubbing, and murder wounds that bleed peri-peri sauce – it isn't exactly a slasher. It's brief and bloody but not particularly brutal.

The opening starts like a fairy tale – albeit a very 1970s Italian one. Isabel (Justine Gall) prances through the woods like Carroll's Alice and comes to a house. Through the window she watches a forbidden party taking place. It appears that she witnesses a ritual murder – except it turns out to be a game.

But then a real corpse is found and the real game begins. On a remote island populated by self-interested, alcoholic, amoral millionaires ("Filthy swine from the same mould!"), everyone is a suspect.

The chief one initially is George (Teodoro Corra). He's brought a bunch of smug gits to the house to hammer out a business deal. They're all vying to purchase a secret scientific formula from Professor Fritz (William Berger). So when the professor cops it, the accusations start to fly and tensions start to fray. The bodies pile up quicker than you can say "Dario Argento".

Five Dolls wasn't a big release at the time and it's not a classic movie by any means (Bava himself disregarded it), but it's solid and reasonably tense. Naturally, once the murders begin everyone behaves like cogs in a movie narrative machine rather than a convincing human being, but that's par for the course. This is virtually a tech demo for Bava's craft – he's the Hitchcock of Italian cinema, as his choices of shots, focus, and fluid camera shifts show. And if nothing else you have a fantastic, unique jazzy score from Piero Umiliani, who even gives the bodies in the freezer their own jaunty piano theme.

Murder mystery fans will be frustrated by the film's pace, which sometimes gives us literally seconds between homicides. We're furnished with few clues to play with and the final twist is a dirty cheat. But let's not pretend there's no pleasure in watching these sharks eat each other; we're here to find out which of them makes it out alive, period.

Five Dolls is drenched in atmosphere and the production design gives a wonderful sense of the otherworldly – we could be on an alien planet. Silly and sexy, it's not an essential movie, but if you're interested in a macabre and hallucinatory curio from one of horror's most influential artists, look no further.

It has striking set pieces, sets, and color schemes. A pity the plot is not more original. But Bava's morbid sense of humor permeates the film.

Five couples come to an island for rest and relaxation. There is a maid and manservant. One of the guests tries a sacrifice--to whom, what or why isn't explained. The lights go out. The sacrifice is dead when the lights come back on--or is she? One of the guests is an inventor with an invention worth millions. After turning down three financial offers for the formula to it, people start dying. The boats that are an avenue of escape are stolen and the only telephone line is cut. The list of suspects dwindles. Will anyone survive the movie?

The cinematography was done by Antonio Rinaldi. Bava himself did the quick, jumpy editing, which contributes to the viewers' sense of unease. The dominant colors in this film are dark blue and purple, especially at night; in three scenes, the only colors used are black, white, and red. The actors are adequate.

The plot isn't exactly logical and the ending comes close to breaking the bounds of disbelief. It's like Bava gave up on everything but the visuals. So the plot may become unbelievable, but the film's a visual feast and Bava keeps things moving so I didn't have time to get bored.

George Stark (Teodoro Corrà), a wealthy industrialist, invites several business friends and their partners to his island retreat for the weekend, with the intention of convincing scientist Gerry Farrell (William Berger) to sell his secret formula for a new industrial resin. Philanthropist Gerry isn't interested in making a deal, intending instead to make his invention public, a fact that forces one or more of the guests to turn to murder.

The general consensus seems to be that this is one of director Mario Bava's weakest efforts (even Bava himself was reportedly not fond of the film, being contractually obliged to direct); I can't really comment much on that since I've seen too few of his films to compare, but what I can say is that, even though I found the twists and turns of this Italian variation of Agatha Christie's Ten little Indians virtually impossible to fathom (especially the twist ending), there were still enough positives to make it worth a go.

As with many a giallo, the female cast are very easy on the eye, with genre regular Edwige Fenech stripping off whenever possible as always. There are numerous murders, and although they all occur off-screen (we get to see just the aftermath), the hanging up of the steadily growing number bodies in a meat locker is wonderfully macabre and darkly amusing. The jazzy score is super cool, perfectly complementing the wonderful '60s/'70s architecture and decor of the island's house. And despite Bava's purported disinterest, there is still an unmistakable sense of style, with effective uses of whip-pans and rapid zooms, and at least one stunning scene worthy of a genius, wherein a display of glass balls roll down a spiral staircase, along the floor, and into a bathtub where a woman has committed suicide.

All said and done, if this is his worst, I really must check out his best.