Spasmo

To fully enjoy many of the gialli I've seen recently, the viewer must, as I call it, take a "leap of logic". What I mean is that if the viewer were to stop and think about how illogical things in the movie were, they probably wouldn't enjoy the movie as much. Well, with Spasmo the viewer is asked to take a Grand Canyon size leap of logic. The problem is, I only made it half way across. The illogical actions and reactions the character make throughout the movie ruined much of my enjoyment. When faced with a situation, in almost every instance the characters act and react in the most illogical manner possible in order to advance the storyline. A logical decision by any character at any time would have brought the movie to a screeching halt.

That's not to say that there weren't things I liked about the movie. The latex dummies hanging from trees were a nice touch. The way the murders are shown in flashback at the end of the movie was a fairly innovative idea. But, there weren't enough of these moments.

The acting is what you would expect. The score by Morricone, while good, is not one of his best. The revelation of the murderer is by far the best part of the movie. The DVD from Shriek Show is a mixed bag - good picture, but lots of hiss in spots on the soundtrack.

Overall, this is not one of the better gialli I've seen. If you want to see a far superior giallo by Lenzi, see Seven Blood-Stained Orchids. For what it's worth, I'll give Spasmo 5/10.

I don't know whether it was director Umberto Lenzi's intention or not, but in Spasmo he created a masterpiece of the absurd, a film so convoluted, disjointed, and bizarre in execution that it becomes strangely hypnotic, forcing the viewer to watch to the very end. I can't say I particularly liked the film enough to recommend it to anyone but avid giallo fans, but one thing I can guarantee... you won't have seen anything else quite like it before.

The film stars Robert Hoffman as Christian, a businessman slowly drawn into a strange and terrifying mystery after finding the enigmatic Barbara (Suzy Kendall) laying unconscious on a beach. To try and adequately explain the plot further would take me well over my IMDb word limit, but suffice to say that it's a disorientating head-scratcher, a psychological thriller that veers wildly from one scene to another, seemingly at random, with characters that repeatedly come and go for no rhyme or reason; the dialogue is equally strange, and yet the cast plays everything with complete sincerity, even when having to utter lines as strange as ""Hey, you remind me of a dying chicken" and "It's all so absurd, meaningless. And what's absurd is dangerous".

In true giallo style, Lenzi attempts to pull all the plot threads together in the film's closing moments, but although the revelations in the finalé do justify Lenzi's strange style of direction to a degree, and clears up why there are frequent shots of female mannequins throughout the film, it doesn't adequately explain why Christian is afraid of the dark, or why Barbara prefers her men without beards.

Umberto Lenzi's "Spasmo" is not really a horror movie as much as a psychological thriller. There's minimal violence, instead focusing on the main character's (Robert Hoffmann) descent into confusion. But as Lenzi explained in an interview, he had the flick turn out as it does to demonstrate how sick Italy's elites are. Like Lenzi's earlier "Orgasmo" (retitled "Paranoia" in the US), "Spasmo" shows that all is not what it seems in this supposedly nice group of people. Still, the sequence of events leading up to that have some pretty neat occurrences. I will say that I liked "Orgasmo" better (partially for the scene of Carroll Baker in the shower), but this one is definitely worth seeing. Also starring Suzy Kendall, Ivan Rassimov and Guido Alberti.

SPASMO is a gem, and possibly THE most preposterous, infinitely quotable, bafflingly ridiculous film i have ever seen!

The first half hour provides more belly laughs and crazy soundbites than most comedies, and this is supposed to be a deadly serious psychological horror film.

Find SPASMO. But first: watch the trailer! It's got to be the best trailer in the history of trailers; with a ranting, fevered italian bloke panting/groaning the word "SPASMO" at least ten times, ending in a final uttering of "SPASMO!" that sounds like he's constipated on the toilet, desperately trying to squeeze one out!

Wonderful, wonderful stuff. A joy to behold....

By 1974 the giallo genre was running out of steam and the films were getting more complicated, more violent and altogether weirder in an attempt to keep viewers coming. Director Umberto Lenzi made two that year, this one and the equally absurd Eyeball, leaving one to hope that Lenzi was putting the audience on and not the stark raving lunatic the films give the impression he was. Whereas Eyeball is a more conventional giallo, with a hooded killer picking off a variety of unwitting victims, Spasmo is more of a "Gaslight"-inspired venture. Someone may be trying to drive the irrepressible Robert Hoffman mad, but he needs little help, and the last fifteen minutes contain the strangest twists I've yet seen in a giallo. Those looking for a stylish thriller will be disappointed by the plant-the-camera-and-shoot direction, and don't expect anything like a plot that's worth following or characters with any relation to human beings. What makes it worth seeing is the genuinely dream-like story, linear yet impossible to follow, and the way each sequence transition requires a twisted justification by the viewer to accept that Yes, maybe it is possible that someone would do this. Here and there a haunting Morricone score comes in, sad and lovely as the one in "My Dear Killer," and there are inexplicable scenes of an unseen man stabbing female dolls, his identity revealed only at the very end in one the finale's many left-field twists. The only giallo remotely comparable to this one is Death Laid An Egg, and at least that had the excuse of being from the 1960's and (I assume) the use of mind-altering chemicals by its creators. I can't imagine what state of mind the filmmakers of this mini-classic were in while making it, but you'd be hard-pressed to find another film like it.