La fille qui en savait trop

The Girl Who Knew Too Much (1963) is director Mario Bava's gleeful homage to Hitchcock; and one of the earliest examples of the Italian Giallo sub-genre of horror/suspense cinema that would go on to inspire an entire generation of horror filmmakers throughout the subsequent two decades. If you're at all familiar with the work of director Dario Argento for example, then you can see the roots of films like The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970), Deep Red (1975) and Tenebrae (1982) already being established by the skillful blending of low-key thrills, character development and good old fashioned murder mystery, as captured by Bava in this excellent, slow-burning suspense piece. Although it may take some viewers a while to settle into the overall tone of the film - with those first few scenes presenting us with a veritable bombardment of information, both narrative and thematic, before the first murder has even taken place - the eventual unravelling of the plot, and Bava's excellent direction eventually draw us deeper into a story that is here punctuated by a charmingly romantic subplot, a miniature travelogue around the tourist traps of Rome, some subtle moments of almost slapstick humour, and the director's always inventive use of visual experimentation.

The usual Gialli trademarks are already beginning to take shape here, with the film focusing on a foreigner - in this case, twenty-year old American student Nora Davis - who travels to Rome to visit her ailing aunt and inadvertently witnesses a murder. Alongside this central plot device, which would be utilised by Argento in many of his greatest films, such as the three aforementioned, we also have the ideas of sight and perception; with the central protagonist unintentionally witnessing something that is shrouded in elements of doubt and abstraction, and thus having to prove what she saw to sceptical police officers and those nearest to her. Bava's film is also given a neat touch of self-referential sub-text; opening with a shot of the central character herself reading a Giallo murder mystery, casting some doubt as to whether or not the film plays out in the literal sense, or whether it is a merely a constructed reality, taking place in her own mind as she reads the book to herself. This is a thread of interpretation that is examined throughout by the filmmaker, with the title of the book itself, "The Knife", having an importance on the plot that perhaps surreptitiously suggest some element of imagined fantasy.

Once we get through those hectic opening sequences, which introduce the characters and a number of potential sub-plots that are essentially window-dressing to throw us off the trail, the film settles into the murder mystery aspect and the burgeoning relationship between Nora and her young doctor friend, Marcello Bassi. Through the relationship, Bava introduces a subtle comment on the Holmes vs. Watson partnership recast as a romantic dilemma, whilst also creating space within his story to let the audience catch up and think about the potential clues already collected in order to lead us to the eventual discovery of the killer's identity. The use of sight and Bava's directorial slight-of-hand is used meticulously for the initial murder sequence; with the director creating a literal feeling of hazy disconnection and a distorted perspective through a somewhat dated visual effect and the always masterful use of light and shadow. Although the actual effect - which replicates the look of ripples on a pond - might lead a more contemporary audience to giggle or cringe, it does tie in with the continual use of water-symbolism in Bava's work, from the final story in The Three Faces of Fear/Black Sabbath (1963), and A Bay of Blood (1971) most famously, as well as a somewhat cheap gag about marijuana cigarettes that will pay off in the film's closing moments.

Again, the use of humour taps into the spirit of Hitchcock, with intrigue, voyeurism, suspense and murder being reduced to mere complications in the continual romantic wooing of Nora by the charming Dr. Bassi. Nevertheless, the thriller aspects are what we remember most clearly; with Bava's always atmospheric direction, iconography and ability to create tension from the slightest movement of the camera. Once the credits have rolled, we release just how subtle much of Bava's use of sight and perception actually was; with a number of scenes leading on from a moment of confusion by the central character, in which she thinks she sees something that turns out to be nothing of the sort. Again, it shows the director playfully undermining the central character; presenting Nora as someone unable to trust her own eyes, and thus, unable to be trusted with the ultimate unravelling of the plot. Nonetheless, Bava also succeeds in throwing us into this enigmatic mystery; undermining our own perspective of the story by showing us important information early on, allowing us to feel superior to Nora with our benefit of a forewarning, only to then cast further doubt in our mind as the gallery of suspects mount up.

Though still something of a minor work for Bava, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is undoubtedly great; enlivened by the fine performances from the two leads, John Saxon (a cult actor with an impeccable list of credits) and the delightful Leticia Roman (I'm honestly quite smitten), and absolutely brimming with style and energy. The gag at the end is in-keeping with Bava's work, but certainly doesn't lessen the impact of the more thrilling scenes that came before, or the air of grand mystery and excitement suggested by his excellent approach to editing, cinematography and design. Beware that the film also exists under the title The Evil Eye; re-edited by Bava for the American market as more of a light-hearted romp (Tarantino calls it's a masterpiece). The version reviewed here is the original Italian version, a minor masterpiece of Giallo thrills, cinematic abstractions and an old-fashioned approach to storytelling that grips us from the start and never lets us go.

The Girl Who Knew Too Much (1963)

Well, this is a classic worth watching for film buffs interested in the first giallo movie ever made (if we ignore the Hitchcock precedents). Giallo films are purposely simple and gory and filled with dramatic camera-work. In a sense they play off the style, one after another, becoming increasingly about the genre rather than movies that stand on their own. It's like slasher films these days, or maybe even zombie films, where you watch knowing what you're going to get, and that's exactly what you want.

Even the director, Mario Bava, admitted openly this was a silly film with great cinematography. That sums it up. He couldn't even remember the two leading actors. There is a bizarre, cheesy, low-budget thriller aspect to the whole enterprise that makes it fun in a campy way even if you aren't a giallo fan. But it's not good in a traditional sense.

Even the main premise is old as the hills--a serial killer is stabbing women in the back in alphabetical order by last name. This is oddly confused in the plot, because woman C was killed a decade before and we see the next woman killed before our eyes. But the heroine's last name begins with D, as if she is going to be next, and indeed she finds her picture in a file at the end suggesting she really is next in line. So what letter did the woman killed before our eyes have?

One of the weird aspects to the plot might explain this--the woman accidentally smokes a marijuana cigarette at the beginning of the movie, and we come to realize she might have dreamed the whole episode. Never mind there are other deaths and mishaps that seem rather real. And a handsome Italian doctor in love with her.

It's also weird in a funny way that the lead woman is an Italian actress playing an American visitor in Rome. Naturally her Italian is excellent. And the whole movie is centered around the Spanish Steps, which are often completely (completely) empty, not a person around. Adds to the surrealism. There are creaky horror film conventions like the shadowy man seen through the window, or the overdecorated house with creepy lights where the woman is staying, alone of course.

What's to recommend this? The photography. The noir influence (and the Roger Corman one, I suppose) is clear. And beautiful. Now if the story and acting made some modicum of sense we'd be set for a classic over-the-top scary movie. Yes, it's important as a giallo example, but don't overblow the result.

I saw this for the first time recently and that too the 89 mins Italian version.

This is no doubt the first giallo film and the last film Bava shot in black and white.

It is very mild when it comes to the gore n it aint scary but a bit comedic n predictable if u pay attention.

The movie plays more like a Hitchcockian thriller and it is obvious that this movie is one genius' homage to another genius.

I enjoyed this even more as i am a big fan of Saxon and his character is one of the suspect. The beach scene is hilarious.

The scene wher the priest picks up the cigarette laden with marijuana is epic.

Bava's cinematography is once again splendid.

The Piazza di Spagna n Spanish steps are captured very well.

Bava is so precise with the direction. After the murder there is rain, so one can't look for blood.

Also when the lead female is trying to recollect the murder n just when she is about to recollect the knife thrown by the killer, she is distracted by the gun shots (kid's toys) n she forgets.

P. S. In the Italian Version, Nora and Marcello are standing at an overlook, trying to forget what happened, planning their wedding. When Marcello wants to light a cigarette Nora got out of her purse, she starts thinking that it was all in her head as a result of smoking weed. She tosses the spliffs and a reverend picks them up. Now the word "FINE" appears on the screen.

In the US Version, a man with binoculars gets in a chair lift in order to shoot a woman. Nora and Marcello are in another chair lift and witness the entire thing. They are talking about getting married as well, but Marcello wishes that Nora would never ever start with any kind of crimes or murders.

Coming out in 1963, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is not as ground-breaking as other Mario Bava efforts but it's still every bit as stylish and suspenseful. The plot of the film, convoluted and filled with twists and red herrigns galore, anticipates the giallo cycle of the late 60's. Of course one year later the director would practically define the style with Blood and Black Lace, introducing other genre staples like the black-gloved killer, the garish colours and the gore but that doesn't detract from the ifluential status of this proto-giallo.

As the title imples, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is with one foot firmly set in Hitchcock territory, but whereas Hitch films had a tendency of trying to be too many things at once (little bits of comedy, romance etc) something I always considered distracting, Bava allows nothing to come between him and his goal: a suspenseful horror thriller.

The chiaroscuro photography is simply beautiful to look at, light and shadow play off each other in expressive ways, not unlike film-noir. Leticia Roman's face is at times only half-lit to stress her confusion, while in other set-pieces dark figures stand out against fully lit backgrounds. Bava is famous for being one of the best visual directors in the history of the medium for good reason. His black and white work is as good as his colour films.

Minor quibbles I had with the film include that many scares turn out to be false, the first person narration (another film-noir influence) and the implied possibilities in the ending *was it all a dream?* Leticia Roman and John Saxon hit it off with great chemistry, the DP work is fantabulous, the opening 15-20 minutes leading up to the first murder are among the best 20 minutes in 60's horror and this an all around accomplished horror film that deserves every fan's attention.

THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH (Mario Bava - Italy 1962).

I finally got to watch this in the way of the relatively cheap French DVD-release LA FILLE QUI EN SAVANT TROP, which includes Bava's original Italian cut as well as the American cut (titled THE EVIL EYE), which has a completely different ending and excludes some references to marijuana, as well as a stronger emphasis on the romantic plot line between the two leads John Saxon and Letícia Román, reputedly to make the film more marketable for children(!), which I find impossible to comprehend, but apparently this was what U.S. distributors had in mind. Furthermore, a bombastic Les Baxter score was added, a common treatment for most U.S releases of Italian films in that period, instead of the charming jazzy score in the Italian version (and a very catchy theme song).

Letícia Román stars as a young American woman who loves reading mystery novels. In fact, she's seen reading a detective novel called "The Knife" when we meet her on the plane. She plans to stay with her aged aunt, but one evening, the old lady dies before her eyes. When she stumbles upon the streets, she witnesses a woman stabbed to death in front of the Spanish Steps and suspects it's the work of a serial killer. Going unconscious, she awakens in the hospital and tries to convince everyone she witnessed a murder, but since no body was found, nobody believes her. She does convince a young doctor (John Saxon) to help her investigate the murders, and they soon find out a series of murders was committed ten years ago, the "Alphabet Murders." She realizes that previous victims had surnames beginning A, B and C and, because her name starts with a D, she could be the next victim.

This is often cited as the first Giallo, that specific Italian breed of thriller, named after the line of books with yellow covers, hence Giallo, Italian for yellow. THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH basically contains most core elements attributed to this particular cinematic sub-genre, with the prime motive of the helpless heroine subjected to all kinds of dangers and physical as well as mental abuse. Nora Davis is seen reading a Giallo novel on the airplane; the foreigner as vulnerable outsider in Italy; an obsession with travel and tourism, the first murder takes place before the Spanish Steps, but the film shows countless tourist hotspots throughout Rome, and the fascination with fashion and style or the jet-set in general. Although it would take Bava's own BLOOD AND BLACK LACE (1964), lavishly shot in colour, to introduce the more elaborate, lengthy and - above all - much more violent and bloody killing sequences which would typify many later Giallos, carried out by the archetype Giallo killer with gloves and black raincoat. Wide-eyed Letícia Román is the kind of innocent looking girl with just the right combination of sexiness and innocence to pass as a very likable heroine, perhaps a touch too innocent and certainly worlds away from the sexually liberated female in later Giallos.

Early sixties' fashions and habits abound, such as Nora Davis' exuberant snake leather jacket. There's also a lot of smoking on the plane and later on Nora condones Marcello's smoking habits claiming it's bad for his health, which is presented as the audience is supposed to laugh at her "preposterous" observation, instead of Marcello's smoking habit. Typical role reversal. There's also the running gag with marijuana. In the first scene, the man next to Nora on the plane turns out to be a marijuana smuggler, but on arrival in Rome, the always alert Italian police is quick to take this character into custody. Perhaps Bava's way of saying the Italian police is always on top of these issues and malicious elements from abroad are dealt with in proper fashion.

Masterfully shot in black-and-white, the film doesn't contain the outrageous imagery of THE BODY AND THE WHIP (1963) and BLOOD AND BLACK LACE, both sumptuously shot in colour, and certainly is much lighter in tone with the sadistic bloodletting so typical of that other pivotal entry in the development of the Giallo, BLOOD AND BLACK LACE, largely lacking. Originally, it was conceived as a romantic comedy and - hence the title - as a light parody on Hitchcock's work, but Bava decided to put a larger emphasis on the more horrific elements of the story, but doesn't lose sight of the plot development, which I always found a major demerit of BLOOD AND BLACK LACE. A bit old-fashioned perhaps by American or British standards, but combining these elements with a more typical Italian tone, Bava does create something new here. Nevertheless, the tone remains conspicuously breezy and that's probably why this film turns out to be such an endearing mixture of clever Hitchcockian suspense and the occasional comedy relief. Perhaps a bit too cutesy and innocent for many Bava-fans, but I found his a thoroughly enjoyable film.

Camera Obscura --- 8/10