La muerte llama a las 10

'The Killer Wore Gloves' aka 'La muerte llama a las 10' (1974) is an entertaining, though unexceptional Gialli with a genuinely likable performance from the delicious Gillian Hills; who unwittingly lets out the flat above to a somewhat nefarious character which acts as the lurid catalyst for many bloody deaths and equally gaudy red herrings that predictably ensue. Outside of the grubby London exteriors what initially galvanized my interested about 'The Killer wore Gloves' was the fiery head-noddingly beatific, groove-laden, prog sounds of Marcello Giombini, his thunderous, Goblin-esque soundtrack must surely be ripe for a remastered release at some juncture? This rich, jazzy and eclectic soundtrack really lifts the admittedly prosaic plot into something rather special, well it certainly did something 'special' to me anyway! Even today, 'La muerte llama a las 10' remains somewhat of an obscure Giallo, no doubt due to the tangible lack of cinematic flair or invention from Herr Bosch; but the lividly luminous presence of Ms. Hills and the magnificent funky, joy-inducing jazz riffs of the maestro cine-groove Giombini really should make this funkily far-out Gialli one to track down; especially if your interests lie within the giddy realms of the mid-seventies Italian slasher. Right, time to peruse my collection to see what other gorgeous Giombini can be unearthed for my edification later on tonight!

I wasn't expecting too much from this minor giallo. The Spanish director, Juan Bosch, was responsible for what was probably Paul Naschy's worst movie, "Exorcismo" (the one that ends with the Spanish horror star battling a possessed German shepherd). And the lead, English actress Gillian Hills, is most well-known for a couple of famous three-way sex scenes--with Jane Birkin and David Hemmings in "Blow Up" and with Malcolm McDowell and some other girl in "A Clockwork Orange". She had a slightly meatier role in the Hammer film "Demons of the Mind", but nothing to indicate she could carry a movie by herself.

Hills plays a young woman whose boyfriend disappears (we apparently see him killed in the opening scene). She has to rent out a room in her flat to a creepy tenant. She then gets a call from her missing boyfriend luring her to an abandoned airport hanger where she is nearly shot. She returns to find the creepy tenant has apparently committed suicide. But then she finds out he was an impostor when the real tenant shows up. And what's up with her boyfriend? Is he alive or dead? This is a pretty average giallo, but that means if you like gialli in general you'll probably like it. It seems relatively big-budgeted, being shot largely on location in London, but the visual style is not terribly interesting (with the exception of Hills' extended nude scene --it's pretty hard to make that uninteresting). I'd recommend it to gialli fans for sure (even though you really won't see anything you haven't seen before), and for everyone else, well, it's at least worth watching if you stumble across it I guess.

Not a very imaginative title for this largely Spanish take on the giallo and director, Juan Bosch does not turn out a very inspired movie. His main asset seems to be a pretty, Gillian Hills, born in Cairo but presumably of British parents. She did a fair bit including small parts in Blow Up and Clockwork Orange, presumably exploiting her looks and also the sublime, Demons of the Mind, though I don't recall how well she did in that what with the antics of Robert Hardy and Patrick Magee. Anyway, in this she is good, effortlessly batting aside stupid dialogue, idiotic assumptions and general lack of coherent plot development. Apart from the pleasure of Gillian there are the many shots, mainly night time ones, of 70s London although there is one delicious scene where we are driving out of London and find ourselves in the back streets of some Spanish village before the continuity team restore order. Its pleasant and diverting enough but not worth going out of ones way for.

The Killer Wore Gloves is one of the specific subset of giallo films that are of Spanish origin. Despite this one being a Spanish-Italian co-production, it's certainly fair to say that it's primarily an Iberian film. Like other examples of this type, it's of a bit lower quality than its average Italian counterpart, while still essentially being decent overall. As is so often the way in this particular sub-genre, it sports a plot-line that is somewhat convoluted. Set in London, events kick off with the murder of a man in an airport restroom for possession of an enigmatic briefcase. At the same time, a young woman thinks she has spotted her boyfriend driving around in the city, a man who has hitherto gone missing. The girl also has taken in a new tenant to share her home with, a very odd man who wears shades indoors at all times. He soon turns up dead after an apparent suicide. Making matters even worse, an attempt is made on the girl's life by an unknown assassin and this is followed by a bunch of other inter-related murders.

It's a fairly complicated story full of the usual gaggle of red herrings and oddball side characters that typify films from this genre. The murder set-pieces themselves involve a variety of weaponry and there is a modicum of suspense generated. The on location London settings were fine, while Gillian Hills made for a good enough heroine. It is, however, not an especially stylish effort by this genre's usual standards and it's really a fairly middling example of this type of movie on the whole. But, that said, if you are a fan of the genre I know that one thing is for sure and that is that more of the same is never exactly a bad thing. And this entry, while basically unremarkable, still has the good sense to deliver the bread and butter elements of the genre. At the end of the day though, for giallo connoisseurs, I think that overall the most interesting feature in this one is its Spanish origins.

The film opens with some guy getting his throat cut in an airport toilet by a mystery figure, then switches to focus on Peggy, girlfriend of Michael, a photo-journalist who has been in Vietnam for some time and isn't showing any interest in coming home. Peggy therefore lives alone in her London apartment, with the usual variety of creepy/weird neighbours/housekeepers living around her, what with this being a giallo and what not.

Peggy is an artist and just about everyone she knows is a complete areshole, from the lecherous guy whom she submits her art too (who keeps putting the moves on her), to Michael's ex-girlfriend Jackie (who is a total b**ch) to her upstairs, bass playing, cat loving neighbour upstairs (who looks like a time travelling, elderly Nick Cave). Peggy needs cash and as Michael off in the 'Nam she figures she might as well rent his apartment out, because that always works out well in this kind of film.

Her new tenant turns out to Bruno Corazzari, and he seems kind of okay as he's not putting the moves on her quite as much as any other man in her life. Then again, he's wearing creepy mirrored glasses and starts rifling around in Michael's room the moment Peggy leaves. Lo and behold, the next thing that happen is that Michael is on the phone, he's back in Blighty, and wants to meet Peggy at an abandoned hangar. Or was that bit after the bit where Corazzari takes a dive off the building, leaving a corpse with a smashed up face? I can't remember. By the way, corpses with smashed up faces aren't good news in gialli, unlike in real life.

Also, later that day, Peggy's new tenant turns up as a different guy, confusing her. What's going? What's happening? Who's that in there? This being a standard giallo, various murders start taking place, except for one character who falls in front of a subway train rather stupidly. There are many red herrings but it was easy to guess the killer. In saying that, it didn't stop me enjoying the film. You've got your usual giallo traits (boobs) and a smattering of gore (smattering not being a word you use in say, McDonalds: "I'll have a Big Mac and a smattering of chips."), and the soundtrack was nice and funky.