Quem a Viu Morrer?

WHO SAW HER DIE? (1972) *** George Lazenby, Anita Strindberg, Peter Chatel, Adolfo Celi. In this engaging giallo directed by Aldo Lado, George Lazenby plays Franco Serpieri, a well-known Venetian sculptor. After Serpieri's young daughter is murdered, he grows impatient with the efforts of the police and tries to find the killer himself, with some help from his estranged wife (Strindberg). The film sticks to a familiar formula: the likely suspects are killed off one by one, and the last man (or woman) standing is revealed as the murderer. But the process feels clumsier than it ought to here, and since the killer turns out to be one of the film's least developed characters, the ending is less than satisfying. Fortunately, though, painterly cinematography and an intriguing score by the brilliant Ennio Morricone help compensate for the weaknesses of the script. Recommended.

For those of you wondering whether George Lazenby ever made another picture, after incarnating the most under-appreciated Bond ever in 1969's "On Her Majesty's Secret Service"...well, here he is, three years later, in the Italian giallo "Who Saw Her Die?" In this one, he plays a sculptor named Franco who is living in Venice. When his cute little red-haired daughter is murdered and found floating in a canal, Franco naturally embarks on a quest to find the demented child killer. Lazenby, it must be said here, is almost unrecognizable from three years before. He sports a sleazy handlebar moustache in this film and looks decidedly thinner, almost gaunt, as if he'd been afflicted with a wasting disease in the interim. And the film itself? Well, it's something of a mixed bag. Yes, it does feature stylish direction by Aldo Lado, as well as a pretty freaky score by master composer Ennio Morricone, consisting largely of echoey chanting. We are also given plentiful scenery of Venice, which looks both beautiful and seedy here, an intriguing story to set our mental teeth into, AND Adolfo Celi, always a welcome presence (and another Bond alumnus, from "Thunderball"), here playing a mysterious art dealer. On the down side, I must confess that I was at a loss to understand what the hell was going on throughout most of the picture; what explanations do come toward the end are either half heard from distant rooms or grunted out during fisticuffs. Dubbing doesn't help matters (subtitles would have been a nice option), and the film is never particularly scary or suspenseful. I'll probably need to sit through this one again to get a better handle. Still, "Who Saw Her Die?" remains an interesting, nice-to-look-at giallo, nicely captured here in widescreen on yet another fine DVD from Anchor Bay.

I am required by law to mention that this film is similar to Nicholas Roeg's Don't Look Now, made a year later. So that's that out of the way.

Who Saw Her Die begins in the French mountains with a red-haired girl being murdered by what looks like an old woman wearing a black veil. We then kick in with Ennio Morricone's outstanding soundtrack made up of a child's choir and harpsichord – a far cry from twangy guitars and harmonicas! I should note here that this soundtrack woke my daughter up and freaked her out from two rooms away!

In Venice, skinny sculptor George Lazenby is happy that his daughter Roberta has come from London to visit him, although it's clear by her absence that things aren't going too well with his wife Anita Strinberg as she's stayed behind. Worse still, an old woman in a black veil stalking the kid and seems determined to murder her, which happens while George is banging his mistress.

George is distraught and blames himself for his daughter's death, leading him on an obsessive quest to find the killer, which will lead him down sleazy avenues involving the rich and powerful in Venice. This being a giallo, the killer gets wind of this and tries to eliminate some of the witnesses…

Even though it's not a top tier giallo, this film is still worth a watch due to the misty Venice location shooting, Morricone's creepy soundtrack, and the acting talents of Adolfo Celi, who here, like in the film Eye of the Labyrinth, can seemingly change his mood and personality with subtle facial expressions and posture. The mystery isn't that hard to solve if you've watched a few of these films, but that's not going to put anyone off, is it?

Why are Lazenby and Strinberg so thin though?

_Chi L'ha Vista Morire?_ is, visually, a very beautiful film. From the first shots emphasising the starkness of the alpine landscape which segue into similarly stark black and white photos and drawings from a police file to the closing scenes, the cinematography is beautiful. In particular, one shot in which a flock of pigeons taking flight in a town square provides a metaphor for the rising panic of the father, played by George Lazenby, struck me as particularly beautiful - both aesthetically pleasing in its own right and a very tasteful way to lay the ground for the scene that follows. A unifying visual motif is the veil worn by the killer, which makes for some interesting point-of-view shots, although the impact must have been blunted somewhat by viewing on video.

Unfortunately, there's some flaws that detracted from the experience for me. Lazenby does not speak Italian, so his lines are dubbed. At times, the sound level appears to be much too high, making the dubbing glaring. Similarly, the soundtrack is at times overbearing, particularly during appearances by the killer, whose discordant "theme music" became incredibly annoying, particularly when the rest of the film was marked by such a light touch. Mercifully, this problem is rectified at the climax and the music is cut short.

On the visual side, watch for some very fake looking blood. Many scenes (particularly interior scenes) are very dark, which caused me some problems in determining what was going on, but again this may have been compounding by watching on videotape rather than the big screen.

Overall, a satisfying mystery film, if a little slow-paced.

Very well-crafted giallo is an obvious precursor to Nicolas Roeg's ingenious and similarly Venetian-set "Don't Look Now". Suspenseful, engrossing and with some skillful visual flourishes--such as the black-veiled killer framed against a snowy landscape--makes it clearly stand from its sleazier counterparts in the genre. Ennio Morricone's delirious score is one of my favorites and nearly impossible to shake from your mind!