80's Italian Horror Part Eleven - (Ruggero Deodato Edition)

THE HOUSE ON THE EDGE OF THE PARK

(1980)

Overall: WOOF

 

For his follow-up to the infamous Cannibal Holocaust, director Ruggero Deodato chose a quasi-remake of Wes Craven's also infamous The Last House on the Left, even going as far as to hire David Hess as another deplorable, murderous scumbag.  Shot in Rome with exteriors done in New York, The House on the Edge of the Park, (La casa sperduta nel parco), is one long, boring, and uncomfortable home invasion scenario with an aggravatingly nonsensical twist ending that is almost half as insulting as the chicken lady from Craven's deplorable debut.  Which is saying a lot.  As a precursor to torture porn, this one is not as cartoonishly unpleasant as others that would continue to push unwholesomeness boundaries, but it is still an ugly and frustrating viewing experience, perhaps more for its asinine script than anything else.  Six people get held up in their own house without the use of firearms or restraints by Hess and his dim-witted cronie, and the dice roll that the victims take in playing out such a charade where anyone can get killed on top of mutilated and raped would all be laughably stupid if not for how monotonous the whole thing is.

 

CUT AND RUN

(1985)

Overall: MEH

 

A typically nasty Euro-jungle bit of exploitation that was allegedly to be directed by Wes Craven before the more natural choice of Ruggero Deodato took over, Cut and Run, (Inferno in diretta, Straight to Hell), is notable for its recognizable cast as well as for being simultaneously filmed in two specific versions.  One of these was "softer" for the more strict censors in the UK, while the other upped the gore factor to the standards of the day.  It is still a sluggish, icky affair in either capacity with a repetitive plot involving a news reporter who is out to uncover a war between the South American drug cartel and a Col. Kurtz-styled cult leader with an army of cannibalistic natives at his disposal.  There is also a side plot of a television executive's missing son caught up in the hoopla, a son who wears a Mickey Mouse shirt throughout the whole thing even though he is a full-grown adult.  None of the violent set pieces are memorable and there are less of them than one would expect, but the performances are surprisingly committed with Lisa Blount, Richard Lynch, Eriq La Salle, Karen Black, and a particularly jacked and greasy Michael Berryman all giving it a solid, professional go.

BODY COUNT

(1986)

Overall: MEH

 

An Italian production shot on location in the country's Southern Abruzzo region, Body Count, (Camping del terrore, Shamen), nevertheless manages to have all of the derivative hallmarks of American slasher movies.  The cast is almost exclusively from the US, (a brief appearance by Ivan Rassimov being the most notable exception), the camp ground setting looks and feels like any from the Pacific Northwest, and most of all, the story is a by-numbers snore-fest that involves a masked maniac picking off horny people fifteen years after a tragedy, with some vague, ultimately unnecessary nonsense about an ancient Indian burial ground thrown in as well.  Director Ruggero Deodato took over the production from co-screenwriter Alessandro Capone and the shooting was allegedly plagued by rotten weather, both factors which may contribute at least in some part to the lousy results.  Even though every single character is different levels of obnoxious, several are played by notable genre actors such as Charles Napier, David Hess, John Steiner, and Mimsy Farmer.  Also, most of them die so that is something.  While others in the loathsome sub-genre were far more insulting to the viewer with Neanderthal-brained and completely predictable plotting, this one still has all of that in spades, but it is also just too lazy to be offended by.

 

PHANTOM OF DEATH

(1988)

Overall: MEH

 

Boasting three strong, name leads and directed with some romantic flair by Ruggero Deodato, Phantom of Death, (Un delitto poco comune, An Uncommon Crime, Off Balance - Der Tod wartest in Venedig, Off Balance), also has a flimsy plot that makes it more comically absurd than probably intended.  Both Michael York and Donald Pleasence deliver wonderfully showy performances, the former as a deranged pianist who suffers a bizarre disease that ages him rapidly over the course of a few months and the latter as the increasingly frustrated police detective that keeps getting hilariously duped right under his nose.  It is not a conventional giallo in the fact that the killer reveal comes early, (meaning that there is an absence of dark-gloved murders and red herrings), but there are plenty of logic-defying details to make it a hoot.  The length at which the plot goes to depict Pleasence as the least competent law enforcement official on earth is hardly his character's fault, as the murder openly taunts him while standing mere yards away, kills people in broad daylight and surrounded by witnesses, and can easily be linked to any number of them if only the script remembered to set the story in the actual real world where even the most standard of law practices are followed-up on.  Some of the kill scenes are wacky enough in their improbability and an added be it comparatively minor appearance by giallo scream queen Edwige Fenech is always appreciated, but this is still silly stuff despite its faux-sophisticated presentation.