4 mosche di velluto grigio

'Four Flies On Grey Velvet (1971)' is the last instalment in Dario Argento's so-called 'Animal Trilogy', and it was apparently initially intended to be his Giallo-genre swan song. Thankfully, he subsequently decided not to abandon the genre he's so readily associated with. The film doesn't feel like the product of someone fed up with a framework they've helped define but are also trapped by, but rather as an attempt to widen the boundaries of said framework. At the same time, it is a very classic Giallo and it arguably suffers from not having the same strong aesthetic of Argento's later work. The story starts out strong by inverting the typical inciting incident: instead of the protagonist witnessing a murder, someone witnesses him committing one. Our strangely blasé hero must then try to figure out exactly who that was, because they begin to blackmail him without actually demanding any money. It's definitely a strong premise, but unfortunately it sort of gives way under the pressure of the generally loose plotting. The lead character kind of just takes everything in his stride, taking way too long to actively try and alleviate his situation. Even then, the steps he takes to get the better of his blackmailer are kind of vague, and the blackmailer themselves doesn't really seem to have a plan that's all that solid. It all just seems to be spinning its wheels somewhat. However, its elements of soft pseudo surrealism are kind of compelling in their own way, as are its bouts of unexpected broad comedy. It's always fairly entertaining, even when it's at its least propulsive. The opening and closing movements are notably better than the midsection, too. Ultimately, this is a solid Giallo thriller that may be one of Argento's weaker efforts, but is still a fair bit of fun throughout.

"Four Flies On Grey Velvet" is surely an odd, truly bizarre film, even by Dario Argento standards. In my opinion however, it most definitely is not a bad film, much less one of Argento's worst. Much of what is said about the film, by critics and fans alike, seems (to me) to wrongly condemn it. I definitely can understand why one might be frustrated by this film, but I don't believe that's a reason to reject it completely. Some may feel the acting and/or story isn't all that good. I would respectfully disagree. I feel the acting is strange and aloof, but I believe that it works in favor of the film; and the story is confusing, but that is typical for an Argento film, and as a viewer, I appreciate not being handed all of the answers on a platter. Perhaps what repels many viewers is consistently being displaced espacially within the film context; that is to say one (the viewer and/or the characters) doesn't necessarily always know where one is within the "reality" of the film or how one got there. Here, in what is perhaps Argento's most abstract film to date, the director makes some very bold, disarming choices with editing; choices I believe serve a greater purpose and add chillingly to the effectiveness of the film. For instance, the sequence in which the protagonist (Michael Brandon) is driving to the office of a private investigator. Shots of him driving in his car to the office are quickly intercut with gliding POV shots approaching the office building, going up the stairs, nearing the office door. The effect is that of feeling as if he is literally driving up the stairs and down the hallway to the office door, creating a tense and strangely humorous sequence of events. This editing technique, prevalent throughout the film, is surely a forceful presence and I suppose could turn off some viewers. Regardless of the editing, the atmosphere and visual punch of the film is pure Argento, albeit an Argento who was still developing his technique and discovering his style. There are many beautiful and stunning visuals to be appreciated, including the violent, shocking ending sequence and a very creepy chase scene in an otherworldly city park. My favorite visual flourish in this film is the reoccuring nightmare had by the protagonist, in which a Middle Eastern execution is taking place in a bleached out desert dreamscape; thoroughly chilling. A frantic, highly enjoyable score from the master Ennio Morricone adds greatly to the proceedings as well. I really like this film, despite whatever flaws it may have, and have but one question for anyone who thinks "Four Flies On Grey Velvet" is (one of) Argento's worst... "Have you seen "The Five Days Of Milan" or his "Phantom of The Opera"?

Definitely not for everyone's tastes, but a certain must for any Argento fan, Euro-horror fan, or anyone who just really wants to be daring and see something totally different.

As with the previous two entries in the unofficial Animal Trilogy, Four Flies on Grey Velvet is short on explicit gore but brimming with atmosphere and artistic ingenuity, with set-piece murders primed and mined for maximum tension. It was with this film that Argento began to cement his particular style and is something of a crucible for future ideas. The murder of Roberto's maid in a local park foreshadows John Saxon's fate in Tenebre, and with its sudden lapses in time and attempted escape through the cobwebbed space between two buildings (to a soundtrack of whispers and sighs) it also sows seeds that would flourish in Suspiria. Other visual motifs (crimson curtains, extreme close-ups, inanimate objects suddenly wielded by a seemingly maniacal camera) would be repeated or re-jigged in Deep Red, Phenomena and Opera.

Argento's original intention was to have a gay protagonist and though the character of Roberto is still open to such a reading - his victimisation being as a result of a fear of being outed (as a murderer) has obvious correlations (note also Brandon's shaggy mane v Farmer's gamine crop or the rather tame bathtub scene with Francine Racette which sees Roberto playfully seducing his mirror image) - the more overt references are passed to Jean-Pierre Marielle, who brings immense likability to a small role and whose swish factor is tempered by a steely determination to finally cracking a case. A frosty Farmer acquits herself well, though Brandon is merely okay. Argento's fascination with weird science (here ludicrous by design but ingenious in execution) gives the film its animal-themed title, and the finale boasts one of his greatest sequences - a stunning, slow-motion shot of a car impacting with the back of a lorry, which marries chillingly beautiful aesthetics to Hollywood folklore, scored with Morricone's haunting "Come un Madrigale".

Four Flies is a solid giallo and an important entry in the Director's canon which bears repeated viewing, blurring gender roles and sexual identity, adding subtext and hit and miss humour, asylum flashbacks, well-executed deaths and a recurring nightmare in the form of a sun-bleached, public beheading - the significance of which turns out to be twofold. It also has in spades what a good Argento giallo conveys like no other, that chilling feeling of something wholly alien on the loose in human form.

A musician (Michael Brandon) is stalked by an unknown killer who's blackmailing him for an accidental killing of another stalker. But is everything what it appears to be?

The film opens with a great shot of drums from overhead and a beating heart, knowing that Argento is in the middle of his most stylistic period. Even the man with white gloves and disturbingly childish mask taking photographs is classic Argento.

I liked the concept of the images burned on to the retina, and I enjoyed the humor of having a character named "God" and the "Hallelujah" chorus. This being the last Ennio Morricone score in an Argento film was not lost on me, as the musical style shifted greatly after this one. (Not necessarily in a bad way -- Goblin and Simonetti are incredible.)

I was surprised to see homosexuality being so openly discussed in a film from this year. Maybe in Italy it was more acceptable than in America? Either way, an interesting addition.

Roberto Tobias is the drummer in a rock group. He has become increasingly stressed as a strange man has been following him. Eventually he confronts the man, who pulls a knife on him! In the scuffle that follows the man is stabbed and dies. At this point Roberto realises that not only is there a witness, in a mask, who has taken pictures through a telephoto lens. Later the masked witness confronts him and tells him that they haven't finished with him. No money has been demanded but Roberto assumes it is a prelude to blackmail. Then people around him start being murdered. Will Roberto be able to find the identity of his tormentor before it is too late?

On the one hand this is a mystery film but being from director Dario Argento it is something more... something weirder. As one would expect from him there are plenty of disturbing moments; these are made even better by the stylish way in which it is filmed and the music used. I had expected weirdness but what I didn't expect, and was a pleasant surprise, was the level of humour. When the killer is revealed it isn't a complete surprise but that said it was neither too obvious. Overall a fun film that I'd certainly recommend to fans of Argento; I need to watch more.