El asesino está entre los trece

A recently widowed woman invites thirteen people to her secluded mansion. At dinner, she reveals that she suspects one of them murdered her husband and she intends to find out who. Before long, in grand giallo tradition, a black leather gloved assassin starts picking people off.

This film is part of the sub-bracket of films known as the Spanish giallo. Unfortunately, this one also emphasises a Agatha Christie style whodunit element over giallo mayhem. The result is a movie where there is simply too much talk and not enough action. There is a seemingly endless conversation at the dinner table where the hostess points out the underhand nature of various characters. Its hard keeping up with all of this and you do sort of wonder, even when its happening, if its honestly going to be worth the bother, as its pretty obvious that most of the guests are too obviously shady to actually be the murderer in a film like this. Pleasingly, things do definitely perk up a bit latterly when the murderer pitches up and starts knocking off a few cast members, although it is a little late in the day when this happens. Because two thirds of the runtime is chat-heavy, it does mean the pacing is pretty poor overall. The cast is half decent, with regulars from Spanish genre flicks Jack Taylor and Paul Naschy appearing in small roles and giallo regular Simón Andreu once again appearing as a smarmy playboy character. So, there are some things to enjoy in this one but its really only going to appeal to fans of the genre who are looking for obscure deep cut examples of the giallo.

Straight from the gate you have to deduct 6 stars for these Butt Ugly Monstrosities that appear in these Giallo movies. I don't see how these women stomach the sex scenes with this inept group of men. They range from the typical two bagger, to you got to be kidding me!!! Ugly and couldn't get laid if they were the last man on the planet with a world full of horny women.

No need for a script when you have these make-up free uglies running amok on the screen. So throw reality out the window when viewing this hot mess. Or better yet, do yourself a big favor and give this one a pass. A more than generous 3 out of 1,000 stars on this.

This Spanish giallo from the mid-1970s still harbors many of the delights of early 70s such as fantastic goldenrod curtains and elaborate, ornate dining rooms filled with antiques but every version I have seen on streaming has the worst subtitles, they move so quickly it's distracting - this may be a flaw in the writing of an international thriller to make it so terribly wordy, but come on I think we can do better than this. And I am a fast reader.

Like its predecessor, The Killer is One of Thirteen is filled with so many twists and red herrings that it's impossible to even guess who the killer is, in true Christie fashion. However, the grand finale is a huge punch line in and of itself.

This is Javier Aguirre's only giallo. It's not bad as these films go. However, it is slow. The first murder does not occur until over an hour into the runtime. The body count is also lower than you would expect from one of these films.

Patty Shepard, Simón Andreu, and Paul Naschy all appear in the film. Some of them have smaller roles than you would expect. However, I will say that the quality of the acting and dialogue is generally better than many of these movies.

The mystery component was handled pretty well. While the story was obviously inspired by Agatha Christie, it does not copy from her.

At the end of the day, you won't go wrong by watching it, but I can't recommend it for anyone who is not already a fan of these things.

Look, I've seen over 200 gialli, so I'm used to plot holes and lapses in logic, but whoever wrote this one really dropped the meat in the dirt. I've seen some people comparing 'The Killer is One of Thirteen' to Agatha Christie's 'Ten Little Indians', and let's just put a knife in that right here. Other than people showing up to a house and dying, the two aren't even in the same universe.

In short, the story is about a wealthy woman who invites a bunch of friends (?, more like acquaintances) to her home after her husband recently died in a plane crash. She then accuses them one by one of having a possible reason to want her husband dead. Eventually, the killer strikes again.

First of all, it would have been wise to limit the characters so we could follow who's who. There's a reason it's 'TEN Little Indians', 'The Killer Reserved NINE Seats' and 'SIX Women for the Killer'-so we have time to process who the characters are and get to know them.

The reality is, we might have had a shot at understanding the characters and their motivations if the screenwriter didn't distract us with sneaky affairs and dumb romance subplots that contribute zero to the plot or character development.

It's a shame, because the cast is decent. Yeah, the soundtrack is off with some strange cartoon and game show sound effects. The wardrobe and lighting are lame. But it's really the script that sinks this Titanic mess. Despite all the backstories and attempts at red herrings, I guessed who the killer was in the first half hour.

My advice is, if you're in the mood for a good whodunnit, pull out René Clair's version of 'Ten Little Indians', 'And Then There Were None' from 1945. It's creepy and clever, holds up well and is one of my favourite films.