La nuit bleue

It always amazes me how the 1970's giallo thrillers, which was one of the best Italian genres, could somehow degenerate twenty years later into "erotic thrillers", which was one of the worst (and one which the Italians and the Americans really deserve equal credit--or blame--for creating). Part of the problem is that "erotic thrillers" simply have too much sex in them at the expense of pretty much anything else. The 70's giallo thrillers may have been a salty dish, but the "erotic thrillers" are basically a big dish of nothing but salt. This movie definitely has a too much sex in it, but there's an even bigger problem with it: it was made in the 1980's, "the decade that taste forgot". The 70's giallo films were very style-conscious, but they had the cool Freudian, "pop" art style to them that was very big in the late 60's and early 70's. This movie, however, takes the very, very lame styles of its own day (c. 1988)--the glossy MTV look, the big hair, the fake boobs, the "Miami Vice"-style cops (complete with designer stubble)--hell, there's even "futuristic" elements (i.e. electric cars, ray guns). Also, while the 70's gialli often had original music by genuinely talented composers, this movie (at least the English-language version)merely borrows several truly awful, sub-MTV American pop songs of the era like "Midnight Blue" (You'd think in the "future" people wouldn't still be listening to bad 80's pop music).

The plot involves a female fashion photographer whose female models--and lesbian lovers--are being knocked off by a killer. The main suspect is her ex-husband who makes S-and-M videos (and who looks like a younger "New Wave" version of Christopher Lee). The murders are investigated by a cop (who is basically a swarthy Italian version of Don Johnson). The heroine shamelessly throws herself at the cop (lesbianism and feminism be damned apparently), but he rejects her for some reason. There's no shortage of sex though albeit mostly of the lesbian variety (and be warned, one of the heroine's lovers is a second-rate imitation of Grace Jones and another is a musclebound female body-builder with a "punk" hair-do). There is a surprising lack of on-screen violence here, which I found truly unfortunate because everyone in this movie is so unlikeable and annoying that I wanted them all to die in the most horrible, bloody way imaginable.

If you actually LIKE the 80's though (perhaps you're too young to actually remember them?), you will probably like this better than I did. But if this can be considered a giallo, it's definitely one of the worst of the 150 or so I've seen. It's really more of an "erotic thriller" though and pretty typical of that very lame genre--as well as very lame era in which it was made.

I have this movie in my collection and I pull it out to watch it about once or twice a year. It is a very strange movie and that keeps me coming back to examine it over and over. I would have gave it a 10, but it's attempt to look space-age kind of fizzled. However, the acting is good and the characters/actors are good-looking and interesting. The suspense and the music soundtrack make it all the more fascinating. I guess it makes me nostalgic for the 1980s when a slew of B-movies on VHS regularly flooded the small mom and pop video stores. This is one of the movies from that time period that stands out as unusual and entertaining. I recommend watching this creepy and mostly well-made, hard-to-find movie.

My review was written in March 1989 after watching the film on Imperial Entertainment video cassette.

This thriller is an excellent example of a recent Italian genre little-known Stateside: the glamorous horror/fashion pic. Direct-to-video release should generate interest in other pasta couture shriekers.

Pic aroused interest in Europe last year (and was featured in photo spreads in "Lui" and other magazines) under the title "Pathos". Helmer Piccio Raffanini has adapted the style of Jean-Jacques Beineix' "Diva" (and cast Beineix' regular thesp Gerard Darmon) to this tale of decadent photographers using high-tech equipment to stylize erotic fashion photos.

Virginia Hey is the antiheroine, whose sexy models are being murdered. Identity of the assailant is possible to figure out, and getting to the bottom of the mystery is made exciting by an excellent musical score, vivid pastel-lit photography by Romano Albani and a very attractive cast (frequently nude).

Hey, an Aussie thesp in tv series "Dolphin Cove", is solid s the shutterbug with a sadistic streak, while Teagan Clive and Carin McDonald offer diverting beauty as muscular femme models. August Darnell, Kid Creole of the vocal group, pops up in a small role.

Gabriele Ducros' hypnotic background score is augmented by well-chosen songs, including Chrissie Hyde's "Private Life", sung by Grace Jones. Tech credits, including English postysynch, are way above average.

It's basically a 90 minute music video. There are a number of striking visuals. The original score is quite good at times.

However, the acting is mostly bad. Gérard Darmon comes across as the best of the bunch and comparatively acts circles around most of these clowns. Virginia Hey's scenes are hit or miss. She has some good moments.

The film itself is a strange mix of erotica and murder mystery set in a futuristic setting. The futuristic setting was the most interesting aspect of the film and also was the least explored in the film. For example, there is a laser gun, but it is only shot once, and it misses and hits a wall. That's it.

The weakest component was the murder mystery. I figured out the killer within the first half of the film before the big clue is revealed. There is very little in terms of gore or special effects here.

It's hard to say who this movie was actually made for.

This film is packaged as a run of-the-mill sex thriller, however theres a lot more to it than meets the eye. The video box neglects to mention that this is a sci-fi adventure. The photography is absolutely magnificent, gorgeous, and well thought out. Sureal and surprising. It's everybit a 'Barberella' for the eighties