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Friend: "Okay. But if you lose, you have to make a film about a killer telephone."

Ruggero Deodato: "You're on!"

And thus, Dial Help (1988) was born. A spirit or spirits in the telephone line is haunting Charlotte Lewis and killing off her friends one by one. She must discover what the spirit/spirits want before it's too late.

It's ridiculous. It's poorly written. The powers and behaviors of the supernatural forces at play here are incredibly inconsistent. There are no rules here. The "special effects" are ridiculous. It's at the level of someone off camera throwing a telephone at someone on camera. Killer Phone!!

All that said, this film has a certain charm to it. It's very well shot with great lighting, locations, and atmosphere. Charlotte Lewis owns every scene here. The phone loves her, and the camera loves her too! She 100% commits to her character and brings a lot to finished product. The rest of the cast is also quite good.

At the end of the day, it's a bad movie, but it's hard to be mad at it. It really put its heart on the line.

Jenny Cooper (Charlotte Lewis), a beautiful English model living in Italy, dials a wrong number, connecting to a long-unmanned hotline for the lonely and suicidal; in doing so, she unleashes a reservoir of negative energy that follows her via the telephone and kills those around her.

As the above synopsis suggests, Dial: Help is a decidedly silly '80s Italian horror, full of ridiculous death scenes in which victims are choked by telephone cords (one woman is literally hanging on the telephone!), struck by coins ejected from a payphone, electrocuted by switchboard, and killed by exploding pacemaker. Even the fish in Jenny's aquarium aren't safe, the telephone in her apartment emitted a high pitched tone that sends them all floating to the surface.

Director Ruggero Deodato (of Cannibal Holocaust infamy) handles the craziness with style, using wind machines, lots of coloured light, an excess of smoke and plenty of neon (there is even one of those horrible '80s neon phones that tries to zap Jenny in the bath), but realising just how daft and consequently unscary the film's premise is, he resorts to getting Lewis into some sexy lingerie for the final act. Not that I'm complaining, of course: Lewis in black basque, stockings and suspenders just about makes up for her horrible wooden performance.

4.5 out of 10, which I might have rounded up to 5 if the character playing the jazz flute had died.

Man, it's really difficult to make a haunted phone seem scary, eh? Ruggero Deodato tries his best, but I can't help get the feeling that it might have occurred to him halfway through that this might not have been the best idea. However, what you have is the eightiest looking late eighties Italian horror ever. Eighties! Model Jenny arrives in Rome looking for her buddy Marco, but ends up dialling the wrong number and getting through to a haunted answer machine system that lives in an abandoned building left over from Blade Runner. After killing a random cleaner with a telephone cord around the neck, the ghosts now start stalking Jenny all over Rome, via the power of the telephone exchange! Just as well mobile phones weren't widely available by this point or Jenny would have been screwed.

She goes to her apartment (which, strangely, is full of pictures of herself), and also meets neighbour Ramon (I think that was his name) who has the hots for her. She's also got another buddy and there's a photographer called Carmen too. God, it's hard enough to sustain a review of this film, which should give you an idea of what it's like to actually watch it.

The haunted phones basically stalk Jenny around the place, killing of her mates (Carmen is stalked by a phone in a rather unscary sequence), and Deodato starts throwing everything he can at the screen, from a would be rapist being torn to shred by flying phone tokens, to Jenny getting all possessed, wearing lingerie and writhing about in a bath filled with what looked like pish, to William Berger turning up for about thirty seconds before his heart explodes out his chest. Berger, as an aside, seems to be the John Carridine of late eighties Italian horror, turning up in Maya and Spider Labyrinth (both of which are better than this film).

Mind you, all credit must be due to actress Charlotte Lewis. Having to looked scared (or turned on by) a telephone is hard work, as is spouting lines like "The telephone is trying to kill me". The film is helped by being set in Rome too, so you'll get to see the Piazza Navona, Castello Sant' Angelo and the Spanish Steps as Jenny goes around being told not to use phones and then using phones. Ruggero's no Bruno Mattei when it comes to directing either, so it's all done rather well…except it's about a haunted phone.

In fact, now that I remember, Ruggero made a film about a haunted washing machine too, so maybe he thought it was a good idea? This one was okay but most of the grade here comes from the high cheese factor.

This film is embarassing. All the way through, I was waiting for the Deodato twist, or the cool disturbing symbolism, or even a hint of great Deodato camerawork, but, sadly, I was still waiting when the end-credits began to roll.

Definitely the lowest point in Ruggero's career. See House At the Edge of the Park instead, and steer clear of this cringe-making killer-telephone rubbish.

Ring! Ring! Have-been horror directors hotline, how may we help you? Um…yeah…Pronto! I mean hello, my name is Rugge… err, call me by my initials R.D! Okay Mr. R.D, what seems to be the problem? Well the reviews on my latest movie "Dial: Help" were all negative and harsh and, frankly, I myself feel like my career has seen better days as well. Okay Mr. R.D, and why do you suppose that is? Well, I gained fame and a well-deserved cult status thanks to my controversial and shocking movie about savage tribes of cannibals devouring a film crew and another one about relentless thugs terrorizing wealthy people in a house at the edge of the park, for which I borrowed the idea from Wes Craven, but "Dial: Help" revolves on … err… never mind! No no, Mr. R.D, go ahead and tell me what the film is about. Um, it's about a spiritually possessed phone line stalking a sexy model and killing the people surrounding her. Ah, I see. That premise does indeed sound a little silly and not as petrifying as cannibals or rapists, but I suppose there are deeper themes in your film, right? Oh yeah, sure… Um, what do you mean by that? Well, isn't the phone line symbolism for another kind of terror? Or perhaps it's all just happening in the mind of your female heroine? Um, nope… It's just about a phone going berserk and murdering people with the cord, vibrations, electricity or even ordinary coins. Interesting, Mr. R.D, but how do you explain all this supernatural stuff to the viewer at the end of the movie? You see, I figured the slowly unraveling phone-mystery plot wouldn't be that important or relevant, so I just concentrated on processing all possible phone-gimmicks I could think of. Phone gimmicks? What do you mean? You know, like wind blowing through the horn, mind-penetrating dial tones, and turn-tables catapulting into the air! Very original, Mr. R.D, but not exactly horrific and as an experienced director you must know that, in the end, people expect a reasonable clarification of all these events. Oh, but there is! It all has to do with negative and unreleased energy, if I remember correctly! It's all a bit fuzzy, I admit. Hmm… I see. Oh well, as they always say, a good motion picture relies on more elements than just the story. Did you at least process some of your regular trademarks into the film, so that your fans at least recognize your style? I tried! Lord knows I tried, but the murders and bloodshed are simply not shocking anyone! That's a pity indeed, Mr. R.D, but what about sex? Everyone likes a good portion of sleaze and nudity in their horror films and you said yourself the film centered on a sexy fashion model in peril! Yes, but … But what, Mr. R.D? Well, to tell you the truth, we kind of promoted "Dial: Help" as an erotic thriller with revealing shots of Charlotte Lewis on the cover, but in reality there's no sex in the film and Charlotte even refused to go topless. Mr. R.D! Now I'm really disappointed, that's just shamelessly ripping people off and lure them with false promises! I know, I know, and I'm ashamed, but I just wanted everybody to rent "Dial: Help" and love it! Well, to round up I can comfort you by saying that every major director is entitled to a few erroneous decisions without it affecting his/her career immediately, but be more cautious next time and do some research first, okay Mr. R.D? I will; thank you! You're welcome. Tell me, have you got any ideas for upcoming movies already? Yeah, as a matter a fact, I do! I was thinking about making a Giallo with a murderous washing machine! Doesn't that sound fascinating? Hello? Hello?