By Keri O’Shea
The ‘neo-giallo’ has become something of a hot filming style in recent years, and although not yet numbering as many films as the faux grindhouse trend has given us, a fair few young directors have tried to turn their hand to the heavily-stylised, aesthetically-minded ultraviolence of the giallo – with a range of outcomes; some good, some not so much. It’s certainly high time for us to get this new, painstakingly-restored version of Blood on Black Lace anyway, the film which effectively cemented the genre in the first place. Years of watching films of a similar ilk may have blinded us to the sheer ingenuity of Bava’s originality and verve here, but it shouldn’t be so: happily, this version is so bloody glorious that it ought to be able to restore any viewer’s faith, even if you come to it hardwired to see through the film’s plot twists and turns.
The film is set in and around the Cristiana Haute Couture fashion house in Italy, where the glamorous girls who work there are presided over by the equally glamorous Contessa Cristina (Eva Bartok) and her partner. One night, one of the girls, Isabella, is brutally murdered by a masked killer in the grounds of the house. The smooth Inspector Silvestre is assigned to the case, but no sooner has he begun to investigate life at Cristiana, than there’s another killing. Could it be linked to the discovery of Isabella’s diary, which seems to have rattled a few cages? Soon, an atmosphere of paranoia and unease pervades the house – and the body count continues to increase.
Essentially a whodunnit, the original Italian title of the film even lets you in on how many casualties to expect but for all that, you genuinely still want to get to the bottom of the mystery. This is quite something, in and of itself. However, for me the real pleasure of Blood and Black Lace lies in the journey, not the destination. It’s hard to understate just how creative Mario Bava shows himself to be with his work on this film: innovative camera work, long takes, a painterly eye for scene composition, superb lighting and soundscape and sumptuous sets, it’s a thing of beauty, a truly immersive piece of cinema. So what if you guess who the culprit is – you’ll have a blast anyway.
All of this comment on how good the film looks and sounds, though, shouldn’t detract from the fact that it still – all these decades after it was made – packs a punch. I’d only ever seen one (terrible quality) version of the film, about ten years ago, and perhaps the poor quality of the print took away from the brutality of the murders, but having revisited it, I’m still pretty taken aback by how unsettling the murders actually are. In bold, crisp Eastmancolour, it’s a protracted and nasty affair, all told. Much has been said about the relationship between sex and violence in the giallo genre, and perhaps it’d be too much of an aside to go into it fully here, but you can’t escape the fact that the girls getting variously throttled, slashed and burned in Blood and Black Lace show sex appeal and terror being married together; although the murders don’t turn out to be sexual in motivation, Silvestre assumes that they are, and perhaps we do, too. Indeed the states of undress which the victims end up in could easily be seen in these terms, and sexuality runs through the film like a current. Similarly, even when being terrorized, the beautiful female victims look incredibly elegant. This is a film choc-full of good looking types.
But then, they’re being offed by someone who has a certain level of style, too. The assassin – in a simple white face covering – is a very effective villain, creepy and evocative. They’re a plausible threat who doesn’t sacrifice on the aesthetic aspect. There’s plenty more to admire about them, also. At some points they seem omnipotent, in the vein of a slasher villain from the decades which followed, but then again, they seem clumsy and fallible in other respects. It’s an interesting blend which allows for engaging viewing and some great scenes – and you can chalk up the sheer number of other, later films which have clearly been influenced by this assassin.
A heady, lurid blend of sex, drugs, lies and murder, Blood and Black Lace set the bar for the giallo genre and this definitive release by Arrow finally gives the film the reverential treatment it deserves. It absolutely rewards the great pains they’ve taken with it to get it looking as good as it does – and I utterly recommend that you buy it, then bask in one of the most enjoyably grisly time capsules you’ll ever have the pleasure to experience.
Not enough for you? Arrow have, as always, thrown in a raft of decent extras with this release, everything from the obligatory movie trailer through to a ‘visual essay’ about gender and giallo, an episode of The Sinister Image, a panel discussing Bava and his work, a feature-length documentary on the film, and even a copy of Yellow, the recent neo-giallo which made waves on the indie horror movie scene.
Blood and Black Lace is available to buy now.