zecca99

I saw this film on an Italian tv program that was aired on Saturday late night, many years ago; I fell in love with it; because this film is hypnotic, mesmerizing.

Don't talk about the plot: it's only a pretext for Jesus Franco to insert trippy lesbo&murder scenes.

What it's really important are the atmosphere, the shots; sometimes surrealistic, sometimes hyperrealistic, sometimes merely absurd; the incisive soundtrack; and, above all, the women; no,no; it's not correct: THE WOMAN. Soledad Miranda's presence goes beyond any description; she secretes sensuality, eroticism, lust, sex and love; she walks along the entire film almost always naked but it's not only her nudity; it's her magnetism that ties the spectator; they are her hieratic, hallucinated eyes that keep you watching on; passing upon plot's holes as large as craters.

A special mention is absolutely well-deserved by Horst Tappert; before being Inspector Derrick he regales us with the characterization of a useless, lazy, absolutely incompetent cop that couldn't find Al Capone in a beans can.

But Soledad... oh Soledad!

Gena Rowlands and Peter Falk's performances are the only real reasons that worth a watching of this film. No action and a catatonic pace, as usual in Cassavetes ( an overrated author); endless scenes( the spaghetti breakfast lasts more than fifteen minutes); too many words around nothing. Sometimes boring and always depressing, this film lives under light of the two actors. Often they exagerrate, their overacting, expecially by Rowlands, are little ridicolous; but they live the agony, the dispair of a disfunctional family soaked in craziness. Tecnically the film is poor; only the editing is somehow good; but it worth a chance.