Wahey! I didn't expect this one to be as delightfully bonkers as it turned out, but then why did I expect it to be normal, knowing fine well that the police inspector in charge is played by a Humphrey Bogart impersonator, complete with mac and the constant presence of a cigarette?
Ol' fake Bogey is out to catch the killer of hooker Barbara Bouchet, beaten to death in a classy French brothel run by Anita Ekberg. At first it looks like her boyfriend did it, which would make sense as he was seemingly the last person with her, and was badly beating her up last time we saw Babs alive. Her boyfriend gets captured and sentenced to death during a court scene shown mostly in negative (?), curses all the witnesses to a violent death, escapes from prison, then accidentally decapitates himself while speeding on a motorbike. Saves wear and tear on the guillotine I guess!
Those relieved witnesses are not so relieved as someone starts bumping them off, starting with the beating to death of Anita Ekberg (in a weird, multi-coloured scene), but who would want these people dead? Is it singer Rosalba Neri? Her husband, Pepe? Pepe's lover, (I can't be bothered looking up her name)? What about the author who lives in the brothel, 'researching a book'? The judge seems to be involved too, as does his doctor mate who wants to operate on the boyfriend decapitated head. Gordon Mitchell also shows up for a quick cameo which has nothing to do with anything and is totally pointless. I think he was drunk and just wandered on set.
Upping the madness factor is your usual sleaze and some gore thrown in for good measure, and the killer's motivation for killing is remarkably tasteless, even for a film that's shown up two decapitations and a doctor cutting up what looks like a lamb's eyeball. I like my gialli short, daft, with plenty of sauce, so full marks to Bogey!
Wait – didn't the doctor's assistant say he saw the boyfriend's eyes move while examining his severed head? What was that all about? He was just told to shut up and not mention it again.
