O Alerta Vermelho da Loucura

Mario Bava giallo about a guy who runs a wedding dress design and manufacturing company in Paris - whilst having a sideline in murdering young brides whilst they're wearing their wedding dresses. That's not a spoiler; unlike most gialli, in this one we know who the killer is right from the start. The mystery is more involved with his motivation. We know that each killing helps him piece together some long-forgotten childhood trauma, and that he's compelled to keep killing until he's got the whole picture - but exactly what that trauma is we don't know until the end. Canadian actor Stephen Forsyth plays the killer, who in character feels like a cross between Norman Bates and Patrick Bateman, whilst looking like a cross between Clint Eastwood and Timothy Dalton (Forsyth only made 10 movies for some reason, of which this was his last). It's a bit lighter on blood than you'd expect from the title, and there aren't too many onscreen kills. But it does have a real switch-up halfway through when it becomes a ghost story! It's not as gripping as some of Bava's stuff, but it's still fun. 6.5/10.

The wedding dress designer John Harrington (Stephen Forsyth) has a stylish studio and is unhappily married with the wealthy Mildred Harrington (Laura Betti). His mother was murdered in the studio when he was a boy and he has a childhood trauma with her death. John is a madman and serial-killer, who murders brides-to-be with a hatchet and uses an incinerator to get rid of their bodies is his greenhouse. When John kills Mildred, her ghost haunts him and his madness gets worse. Inspector Russell (Jesus Puente) is investigating the murders and John Harrington is his prime suspect. Will John escape from the smart inspector?

"Il rosso segno della follia", a.k.a. "Hatchet for the Honeymoon", is a different giallo from Mario Bava since the viewer knows who the serial-killer is since the beginning. The cinematography, camera work and locations are magnificent and supported by a great music score. The profile of the serial-killer is interesting and his duel with the intelligent inspector is a good part of the film. Laura Betti in the role of John's wife is top-notch. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "O Alerta Vermelho da Loucura" ("The Red Alert of Madness")

In the late sixties Bava began reinventing the murder mystery formula he single-handedly created with films like THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH and BLOOD AND BLACK LACE. In this film you know from the start who the killer is and so this film becomes a look into the crazed mind of a guy with childhood trauma who kills women. There's a great experimental score, cool fashions and a dance nightclub sequence for all you Sixties kitsch fans out there. Stephen Forsyth gives a great wide-eyed psycho performance and Bava forsakes his usual stylishly colored lighting for dreamy surreal imagery during the murder scenes. Bava even sticks in scenes from his earlier films on a TV as an in-joke for his fans.

It's sort of like Psycho, only not, and it's sort of like any number of other serial-killer movies, except you know who the bad guy is from literally the first scene. But we don't watch Mario Bava movies for the intricate plots or, as in this case, for the strong acting. We watch them for the grisly visuals! Man's a maestro of mayhem when it comes to presenting blood. Very stylish movie, very well shot. Forsyth is positively wooden, though.

A note: Was this movie ever called in English HATCHET FOR A HONEYMOON, rather than the awkward HATCHET FOR THE HONEYMOON? I seem to recall this from a Leonard Maltin book circa 1978. Or am I as cracked as Bava's protagonist?

For my money, this is primo vintage Bava--which is to say Dario Argento in top hat and tails, Jess Franco with a finishing-school diploma, or, to look at the glass as half empty, Richard Lester after three hits of dirty windowpane acid.

To top this voiceover narration, you'd have to go either to BARRY LYNDON or, on the other hand, MASSACRE MAFIA STYLE: "My name is John Harrington. I'm thirty years old. I am a paranoiac. Paranoiac! What a marvellous world. So delicate. And full of possibilities. The fact is, I'm completely mad." And so is Bava's odyssey through the crazy-straw-shaped brain of J. Harrington, Esq., a hunky sociopath whose sexual fires are only stoked by burying a hatchet in the flesh of virginal-looking brides in their white-veiled drag--and, when they have the ill fortune to be there, their bridegrooms.

The hyper-lusciosity of Bava's style suggests a Bertolucci blissfully unconcerned with agrarian collectivism. Mate that rococo with Nicolas Roeg's brand of kaleidoscopus maximus and you have an inkling of what Signior Mario is up to. Note to Greil Marcus: as a sequel to "Lipstick Traces," how about a book tracing the parallel histories of canonical surrealism (Bunuel-Dali-Aragon-Bataille) and Italian horror of the seventies?