La macchia della morte

Very strongly reminiscent of Rosemary's Baby in substance and style, and why not? When did Hollywood not endear itself to cash-ins of other popular films? Jackie Bissett got to do two of them - this one and The Deep.

She's great in both. Everyone else is very good, but for Alan Alda, who is merely adequate. Funny, even Bradford Dillman is better here, but then Alda wasn't yet into his stride. This almost reeks of TV movie entrapments, it's a Quinn Martin production, but manages to overcome most of them with a fairly literate denouement.

There's the momentary lapse into trite dialog, and silliness, as exhibited by a trip to Mexico where entry into Mexico is announced by a painted billboard on a two-lane highway running past a park with water sprinklers going and with no border guards nor line of cars. Believe me, I went to Mexico in 1971 both from San Diego and inland Calexico, and there was no such sweetheart road of entry.

Well, watch it and you'll see what I mean. It's worth a view just for the great opening credits.

Too bad this neglected horror film got lost in the wake of the similarly themed Rosemany's Baby. Modestly successful journalist Alan Alda suddenly becomes a successful concert pianist following a chance meeting with piano virtuoso Duncan Ely (Curt Jergens) and his darkly seductive daughter, Roxanne (Barbara Parkins). His growing involvement with the wealthy family and their strange friends eventually comes between Alda and his loving wife, Paula (Jackie Bissett). As sinister events unravel, Paula is drawn deeper into a web of diabolic happenings until the threads come together in a surprising and oddly gratifying climax.

The script is tight and well-thought out, with the exception of Dillman's role as Roxanne's ex-husband. After all, if the diabolists are so sexually compelling, how could he divorce her. And though director Paul Wendkos occasionally goes overboard with the camera tricks, the scenes are stylishly done, especially the banquet with its snatches of pretentious banter, and the New Years party with its erotic grotesqueries bound to end in an orgy. And underneath it all lies an undercurrent of evil, even during the brightest splashes of sunlight.

Though Alda gets star billing, it's actually Bissett's movie, which she carries off in finely shaded fashion. Her scenes with the ominously silent Roxanne (just count Parkins' few lines) amount to an exquisite model of civilized contempt, minus the fisticuffs. Alda too, shines, as he acts out Ely's imperious manner at just the right moments, proving in those pre-MASH days that he was more than the humorously caustic Hawkeye Pierce.

As good as the movie is, I can't help wondering if it might have been even better had the mystery not been exposed as early as it is. Suppose the script had skipped the transference ritual and simply had Alda take on Ely's characteristics without explanation, such that the audience would have to ponder what's going on, instead of having it handed to them. There may have been good reasons for not taking this mystery route, but at least it's worth considering.

Still and all, Waltz remains a fine example of movie horror done in both color and sunny surroundings, and with a lot of style and conviction. Too bad, it's slipped into movieland's version of yester-year oblivion. It deserves better. And, if nothing else, the script raises the scary question of whether dogs really are man's (woman's) best friend.

This 1971 movie is definitely worth seeing, at least for a melancholically superb Jacqueline Bisset (at the same time, the other main character, Alan Alda, offers a lousy and histrionic performance). Even if it may seem obsolete, the movie still gives one chills down the spine at some moments, and the end is maybe a recognition of the fact that Evil is always more tempting than the Good. All in all, the old Faustian theme is well depicted in this movie, with some interesting arabesques (but why do the Satan worshipers speak a terrible French in their rituals - that I do not know, a superb score (naturally, since it is about the world of pianists and music) and some subtle meditations about the condition of the artist today and always. 7/10

Another variation on the damnation of Faust ,this waltz borrows from "mad love" -particularly the French version ("the hands of Orlac" ) starring Mel Ferrer as a pianist -and mainly from Levin's "Rosemary's baby" :the new friends whom the husband (Alda) find nice and helpful whereas the wife finds them intrusive :the "bargain " is even worse than in Polanski's movie.

The "supernatural " scenes are not convincing (nothing to match Rosemary's nightmare) ,but Jacqueline Bisset is an excellent actress (on the other hand ,Alan Alda is inexpressive, the changing in his personality does not really show) who carries the movie on her shoulders, and she gets strong support from Barbara Perkins as disturbing Roxanne and seasoned German actor Curd Jurgens.

Add a good final twist : you do not realize at once what really happened.

A good plot similar to HP Lovecraft's "The thing on the doorstep" without the "innsmouth look" of Asenath but with the body swapping of devil worshippers attempting an eternal leapfrog through history using others bodies . Violence is kept to a minimum the required evil for this horror is amply supplied by absentee devil who's decadent servants plot and dissemble to increase their own worth , chilling dreams of the blue wax applying witches are the best moments. Alan Alda's performance was believably naive and overshadowed by a masterful and compelling kurt jurgens dry self absorbed and above the pettiness of his guests . Miss Blisset charming, beautiful ."The Ninth gate" , "The night of the demon" may be better films but would happily keep company on the same shelf.