1970s Foreign Horror Part Twenty-Three

THE NIGHT VISITOR

(1971)

Dir - László Benedek

Overall: GOOD

 

Hungarian-born director László Benedek takes a successful stab at detail-oriented, Hitchcockian suspense with The Night Visitor, (Salem Came to Supper, Lunatic, Papegojan); an English-speaking Swedish thriller with Ingmar Bergman collaborators Max Von Sydow and Liv Ullmann on board.  Several other notable thespians such as Per Oscarsson, Trevor Howard, Rupert Davies, and Andrew Keir are present as well and the distinguished cast along with Benedek's controlled presentation help to give such rural melodrama a classy aura.  The somber, menacing score by none other than Henry Mancini is both unorthodox and used sparingly as most of the more intense sequences play out in naturalistic, quasi-silence.  It is a white-knuckled affair in this regard as the audience is largely left guessing every step of the way as to what Sydow's wrongfully accused, almost anti-hero mental patient is up to as he goes about his elaborate scheme to get back at the people who put him in his present predicament.  This is particularly the case during the excellent and drawn-out opening set piece which throws the viewer right in without any spoon-feeding, as well as the equally elaborate ending that humorously seals Sydow's fate.

 

THE SINFUL DWARF

(1973)

Dir - Vidal Raski

Overall: WOOF

A rare sexploitation film from Denmark of all places, The Sinful Dwarf, (Dværgen, The Abducted Bride, The Dwarf), is bottom-barrel sleaze of the most boring and uninspired variety.  While Torben Bille seems to be enjoying himself as the dim-witted, diabolical title character who fetches women for his mother to prostitute and hook on heroin in a sex dungeon/attic, the presentation by director Vidal Raski is ugly, sluggish, and cinimatically flat.  Two different versions of the film exists depending on how much snore-inducing pornography one wishes to sit through, but both of them have the same unengaging structure where the entire first and second acts fail to progress the already paper-thin plot in any way shape or form.  A woman complains about not wanting to live in a dingy inn, her husband complains about not being able to find a job, and then we get a fresh rape scene before the exact same exchange happens the following day.  There are some quirky elements thrown in like Bille's eccentric mother pathetically trying to relive her nightclub heyday and a drug dealer named Santa Clause, but it is mostly just deplorable rape scenes taking place in grimy dwellings that will make you crave a shower after watching.  Whatever the point was to such an odious, no-budget trash-heap is lost on any audience member that is unfortunate enough to come across it.

SNAPSHOT

(1979)

Dir - Simon Wincer

Overall: MEH

A minor entry in Ozploitation that only merits its thriller tag within the last twenty minutes, Snapshot, (The Day After Halloween, One More Minute), serves as the theatrical debut from television director Simon Wincer.  While it is well acted and Wincer keeps things moving enough in the pacing department, the script, (which was originally by Chris Fitchett and then reworked by Wincer and screenwriter Everett De Roche), presents a dour scenario where a well-meaning young woman seems unable to catch a break from anyone in her life.  Her boss is an asshole, her best friend goes to some dubious lengths to get in her pants, her ex-boyfriend is a pathetic, stalking nutjob, her mother is a raving cunt, a photographer and his haphazard series of roommates are indifferent to her privacy, and a wealthy modeling agency owner is all about the sexual harassment.  With everyone on screen being various levels of unpleasant, it makes for a rough viewing experience where the only tension to be found is in hoping that Sigrid Thornton's protagonist will both merely make it out OK and get as far away from these people as possible.  The film is gritty without being boundary pushing, but the stakes are too low for too long, so there is little engagement to be had overall.

1970s Foreign Horror Part Twenty-Two

THE LADY KILLS

(1971)

Dir - Jean-Louis van Belle

Overall: WOOF

For his follow-up to the vampire comedy Le sadique aux dents rouges, French writer/director Jean-Louis van Belle made the plodding, wretchedly monotonous The Lady Kills, (Perverse et docile); an early rape and revenge film with no style or purpose.  Carole Lebel sleepwalks through a movie that seems to be on tranquilizers in the first place, playing a woman who witnessed her sister's rape at a young age and then sets out in adulthood to murder all of the scumbag parties involved.  Episodic in nature, she travels across Europe, locates all of her victims easily, and then toys with them to fill out the running time until the perfect opportunity presents itself to do them in.  At no point are we ever given any insight into Lebel's character and nothing changes structurally the whole way through, which would not be a problem if it was not so dingily made.  The movie merely presents one unnecessarily elongated sequence after the other, with stock music replaying over and over again, only stopping for roughly five seconds or less at a time.  Excessive as far as nudity is concerned, its minimal-effort-attempts at being exploitative are pathetic at best and anyone unfortunate to come across it can merely watch the first fifteen minutes in fast forward to get the whole gist.

 

DRACULA AND SON

(1976)

Dir - Édouard Molinaro

Overall: MEH

 

Notable for containing Christopher Lee's tenth and final screen performance as the titular Count, Dracula and Son, (Dracula père et fils), exists in more than one version with different jokes thrown in depending.  Lee's voice is thankfully intact in both French and English cuts, though Bernard Ménez' dub was done by someone doing an effeminate Don Adams via Kermit the Frog impression that is persistently annoying, if still fitting to his weaselly character.  Such is the father/son dynamic between he and Lee, the latter as a noble, aristocratic, and stone-faced Count and the former as a pathetic dweeb who cannot even murder his own victims for nourishment.  The script by director Édouard Molinaro, Jean-Marie Poiré, and Alain Godard has only a small handful of clever bits at its disposal and it also uses some lazy plot devices like Ménez turning human for no decipherable reason as well as he and Lee caught in a love triangle between a woman who is the spitting image of the former's mother.  So, eeewww.  Some of the Hammer atmosphere is appreciated even if it fails to be sent-up as humorously as one would prefer and though it is refreshing to see Lee taking a lighthearted stab at his most famous on-screen persona, the movie is more awkwardly dull than funny.

 

BORN FOR HELL

(1976)

Dir - Denis Héroux

Overall: MEH

Inspired by the mass murder of eight nurses in Chicago by Richard Speck, Born for Hell, (Die Hinrichtung, The Execution, Naked Massacre), is a dour co-production between West Germany, France, Italy, and Canada that was shot on location in both Dublin and Belfast, Ireland.  While Mathieu Carrière's disturbed Vietnam vet is almost entirely historically inaccurate from Speck, some of the details of the killing spree are intact such as him holding up his victims merely with a knife and as the film's title would suggest, the "Born for Hell" tattoo on his arm directly alludes to the "Born to raise hell" ink that Speck sported.  Set during the Northern Ireland Conflict, the movie's bleak backdrop is fitting for such an ugly story where Carrière's character is left to roam around a grungy, bomb-torn Belfast in a downtrodden daze that leads him to a nursing school out of a combination of self-destruction and boredom.  Some of the sequences are jarring such as him forcing two naked women to perform fellatio on each other as well as the penultimate scene of him slicing his wrists open over a disgusting public toilet.  French-Canadian director Denis Héroux maintains a gritty, uncomfortable tone, but the soundtrack choices are often odd as if somebody is playing random classical music records at full blast during arbitrary moments.

1970s Spanish Horror Part Fourteen

WHAT THE PEEPER SAW

(1972)
Dir - James Kelley/Andrea Bianchi
Overall: WOOF

An international co-production that was shot in Almería, Andalucía, Spain, What the Peeper Saw, (Night Hair Child, La tua presenza nuda!), runs with the standard "creepy annoying kid" premise, yet it does so in a plodding, uninteresting manner.  Primarily directed by James Kelley as his second and last feature, Italian filmmaker Andrea Bianchi was brought in to shoot some additional naked stuff with lead actor Britt Ekland, and the whole thing is further exploitative in that she rocks her birthday suit in front of fourteen year old Mark Lester who is the peeper of the title.  More ickiness between the two characters is alluded to than shown, but it is a catastrophically talky affair that hardly moves in any direction throughout its running time.  The final twelve minutes seem to signify a psychological element, but this is abandoned as soon as it is introduced, leading to a hilariously abrupt ending set to the annoying, inappropriate theme music that has already been played several dozen times by then.  Too boring to be infamously tasteless, it is better off just being forgotten about.

 

THE STUDENT CONNECTION

(1974)

Dir - Rafael Romero Marchent

Overall: MEH

 

For some, the novelty may suffice of seeing an aged Ray Milland spend over an hour trying to find out which young child witnessed him murder a hit man so that he can likewise silence said child.  Such is the gist of The Student Connection, (Un par de zapatos del '32); the first kind-of-giallo from prolific Spanish Western director Rafael Romero Marchent.  A curious opening finds a sunglasses-wearing, mustached, neck-braced man leaving an airport only to get in his car, park, remove his disguise that reveals him to be a bald guy, light a cigarette, and then patiently wait for an airplane to blow up.  Hardly suspense-laden, but it does have a ghastly enough pay off which sets the things in motion.  An infidelity thriller in part, most of the unsettling elements come from Milland's quest to discover which kid saw his anger-fueled outburst, the reveal of which is immediately predictable once we find out whose particular love interest is also a mother.  Disturbing premise aside, the movie itself has a monotonous structure and the only intense set piece is during the conclusion where Milland chases his little culprit onto a race track in full operation.  Otherwise, it is adequately shot, has about three pieces of music played relentlessly, and the performances get the job done.

 

SCHOOL OF DEATH

(1975)

Dir - Pedro L. Ramírez

Overall: MEH

The last film to be directed by Pedro L. Ramírez, School of Death, (El colegio de la muerte), is deliberately paced and well shot by cinematographer Antonio L. Ballesteros, but the story is unnecessarily scatter-brained and inconclusive.  Set in Victorian era London, it opens with a grisly mad scientist moment where a terrified young woman is strapped to a surgery table so that a horribly disfigured/presumed surgeon can slice at her temple.  Things switch to the boarding house of the title where of course odious headmistresses inflict harsh discipline on the orphans held up there, but then the movie changes gears yet again and becomes a Gothic mystery that alludes to prostitution and the living dead.  Depending on the viewer, it is either a plus or minus that the details are left persistently vague as to what exactly is going on and the motivation of such dubious characters, but the cliche blending is at least refreshing up until a point.  Ramírez' refuses to allow for any camera flashiness, but the movie is bathed in spooky, shadowy atmosphere and the set decoration and scenery are the typical brand of Hammer via-Euro-horror adherence.  It is unfortunate that the plot gets hopelessly muddled along the way, plus Ramírez could afford to tighten up the meandering flow, but the film at least looks and occasionally feels better than it is.

1970s Spanish Horror Part Thirteen

THE FISH WITH THE EYES OF GOLD

(1974)

Dir - Pedro L. Ramírez

Overall: WOOF

 

Almost certainly the most lethargic giallo ever made, Pedro L. Ramírez' penultimate film The Fish with the Eyes of Gold, (El pez de los ojos de oro), is unique in its completely sterile presentation.  Plot wise, Juan Gallardo Muñoz's script follows the formula to a tee; a foreigner has sex with a stranger and wakes up to her murdered body in his very same bed, whereas he spends the rest of the movie trying to clear himself of suspicion as the police logically suspect him.  We uncover the killer within the last few minutes, his motivation is due to a childhood trauma, there is an animal in the movie's title, etc.  So many of the pieces are all in their proper place so it is no small wonder that Ramírez took such an unorthodox route to differentiate it.  As strictly opposed to virtually every giallo on earth, there is almost no musical score throughout the entire movie so instead, everything, (and not just the suspense-building moments right before someone is picked-off), unfolds to odd silence.  All of the performances are equally Quaaluded out, particularly Wal Davis in the lead whose surfer dude looks apparently render him incapable of emoting.  It is just a shame that the listless tone renders the entire thing unwatchably boring and awkward instead of refreshingly singular.

LA MUERTE RONDA A MÓNICA
(1976)
Dir - Ramón Fernández
Overall: MEH

Giallo-adjacent, La muerte ronda a Mónica, (Death Haunts Monica, Il buio intorno a Monica), is a rare work in the genre from Spanish filmmaker Ramón Fernández and one that features both Jean Sorel and German model-turned leading lady Nadiuska.  The aforementioned actors play a doomed, wealthy couple who get in the middle of an endless stream of dubious people trying to either extort money from them or take over their company.  In the mean time, such things as extramarital affairs, casual nudity, a little lesbianism, killers hiding in shadows and delivering threatening phone calls, and a whole lot of chatty banter make up the predominant amount of screen time.  It is a typical bore in this respect, handled with little to no pizazz from Fernández from behind the lens.  That said, the third act finally busts out some sinister music and establishes a couple of intense set pieces, plus the expository scheme reveal at the end is worth a double-take to try and wrap one's head around due to its convoluted ridiculousness.  For the most part, everybody on screen besides Nadiuska's character is shady-at-best/vile-at-worst, so it is mostly a flatly paced bit of dour nonsense.

THE COMING OF SIN

(1978)

Dir - José Ramón Larraz

Overall: MEH

Filmmaker José Ramón Larraz delivers another slow-moving, erotic lesbian genre offering in his native Spain with The Coming of Sin, (La visita del vicio); a borderline disastrous bit of surreal sexploitation.  As usual, the pacing is challenging at best, as exciting set pieces are almost entirely absent and in their place is a strange tale of two women, (Patricia Granada and Lidia Zuazo, respectively), who go about their days doing naked stuff together while also exhibiting inconsistent behavior towards each other.  The arrival of Rafael Machado naked on a horse, (don't ask), further complicates things to say the least, as well as adding to the arbitrary mannerisms and mood swings of everyone on screen.  Though it maintains an air of evocative strangeness, the narrative is virtually impenetrable and pretentious in its aloofness, with an ending that seems laughably rushed.  The intimate cinematography by Fernando Arribas is impressive though, plus Larraz throws in a number of dream sequences that are just as otherworldly in tone as all of the woman-on-woman sex scenes and sleazy rape at the hands of Machado.  It may be trying to say something about feminist isolation and post-Franco liberation, but it does so in an aggravatingly indulgent and sluggish manner.

1970s Italian Horror Part Thirty-Three

FIVE WOMEN FOR THE KILLER

(1974)

Dir - Stelvio Massi

Overall: MEH

 

The third full-length from cinematographer-turned director Stelvio Massi, Five Women for the Killer, (5 donne per l'assassino), understandably has some inventive camerawork, but it follows the giallo framework in an unremarkable manner.  This comes down to the screenplay by Jacques Barclay, Gianfranco Clerici, and Roberto Gianviti which concerns the bog-standard, black-gloved killer who makes phone calls without saying anything and this time slices up women that are pregnant.  The structure is relentlessly dull as we follow around too many unnecessary secondary characters, find out one of them is with child, and then said victim gets predictably knocked-off shortly thereafter.  In between these sporadic kills, the police sit down and interview the same people over and over again and J&B bottles are in full display virtually everywhere.  Three women on screen sport reddish hair and look exactly the same and at least twenty minutes could have been cut from the run time to streamline things as Francis Matthews' protagonist takes a backseat at regular intervals.  The killer reveal is as easily foreseeable as all of the switch-blade slashing murders, but Massi and fellow director of photography Sergio Rubini do stage some adequate shots and atmosphere here or there.

 

REFLECTIONS IN BLACK

(1975)

Dir - Tano Cimarosa

Overall: WOOF

Tough guy character actor Tano Cimarosa took his first of only three cracks at directing with Reflections in Black, (Il vizio ha le calze nere, Vice Wears Black Hose); a giallo that is easily in the top running as one of the most unnecessary and boring ever made.  Redundant to the point of parody, Adriano Bolzoni and Luigi Latini de Marchi's script makes sure to put in the switch-blade-using/cross-dressing/black-gloved murderer, a flaming homosexual, sinister phone calls, endlessly monotonous banter between police inspectors, soft-focus sex scenes, and an expository dialog dump at the end to explain the killer's disturbed motivation.  There is also a repetitive musical score as decreed by Italian law apparently to be in all giallos and the entire structure is so hack-laden as to be borderline insulting.  This is further unforgiving due to Cimarosa's noticeably inept directing style which is nothing more than "point the camera at the actors until they've finished saying all of their lines".  Never once is any sense of momentum made paramount and it is visually ugly at worst and merely inconsequentially dull at best.  Cimarosa seems to be the only one slightly enjoying himself on screen as a gruff detective, since almost all of the other performers come off as if they are just as uninterested as the viewer is.  Even with the spicy detail of all of the murder victims being women who engage in lesbian affairs, (which in this universe is every woman shown on screen), the end result could not be more lifeless.

CRAZY DESIRES OF A MURDERER
(1977)
Dir - Filippo Walter Ratti
Overall: MEH

A giallo by-way-of Agatha Christie mystery, Crazy Desires of a Murderer, (I vizi morbosi di una governante, Morbid Vices of a Housekeeper), has copious amounts of nudity, detailed taxidermy, and eyes getting cut out of people's already dead faces, but it is still a mundane watch.  The last film to be directed by Filippo Walter Ratti and scripted by frequent Emmanuel screenwriter Ambrogio Molteni, it uses the ole gag of a bunch of hip young people having a weekend shindig at an isolated mansion, this one belonging to one of the gang whose father is a wheelchair-bound curmudgeon that likes Chinese art.  People sit around a talk, dance while buzzed on Jim Bean, take their clothes off and fornicate with each other, and then one of them gets murdered in their sleep which brings in Corrado Gaipa's overweight and limping, yet crafty police inspector to hang out there until discovering the culprit.  Of course it ends up being a poorly thought-out, elaborate scheme on the bad guy's part that is further exploitative in nature for involving a dim-witted young boy who is locked away after killing a guy that was banging his now dead mother, (long story there), but the presentation is too sterile to enjoy.  The actors all seem bored as Gaipa has endless conversations with them and says that he knows that they are all hiding something several dozen times, but for Euro-trash fans who do not mind boring, flattly-shot sex scenes one after the other, this may be passable.

1970s Italian Horror Part Thirty-Two

THE DESIGNATED VICTIM

(1971)

Dir - Maurizio Lucidi

Overall: MEH

 

For his first film of the 1970s, director Maurizio Lucidi reworked Alfred Hitchcock's seminal Strangers on a Train with The Designated Victim, (La vittima designata, Slam Out); an adequate giallo variation to one of the most seminal works from the Master of Suspense.  Though visually stylish with some loud, dated set design and wonderful location shooting, Lucidi is no Hitchcock or even a non-union Italian equivalent thereof.  The entire film is thoroughly lacking in thrilling set pieces, save for the final couple of minutes where Tomas Milian's duped protagonist finally cracks under the pressure of Pierre Clémenti's disturbed, befriending manipulation.  Some of the details inherent in Fulvio Gicca Palli, Fabio Carpi, and Luigi Malerba's script are well-thought out, but the story lacks the proper momentum to keep the viewer from losing interest.  It is mostly an overly-talky affair where Milian has variations of the same conversation with everyone that he encounters, from his ill-tempered wife, to his doting mistress, to the suspicious police inspector, to Clémenti's charming sociopath.  Far from a failure, but still an unmemorable offering.

DEATH WILL HAVE YOUR EYES

(1974)

Dir - Giovanni d’Eramo

Overall: MEH

The only existing directorial effort from screenwriter Giovanni d'Eramo, Death Will Have Your Eyes, (La moglie giovane), has an unorthodox structure and some recognizable faces, but its dour story gives way to stagnant pacing issues.  Marisa Mell plays the doomed heroine; a down on her luck woman who theoretically hits it big by marrying Farley Granger's much older, wealthy doctor who for whatever reason is unable to perform sexually, leading Mell to fall in love with an attractive, far less wealthy man that is closer to her age.  Things get far more complicated in the second half though when Francisco Rabal decides to blackmail her, at which point the movie becomes monotonous in their bitter dialog with each other, which of course results in rape and murder because this is an Italian exploitation film after all.  Genre regular Helga Liné shows up in a supporting role as well, (naked of course in the very first scene), plus character actor Luciano Pigozzi makes a blink and you'll miss it appearance early on.  Very little happens throughout the running time and the more dramatic moments spring up out of nowhere, making for a confused effort, what with the non-linear storytelling in tow.

 

DR. JEKYLL LIKES THEM HOT

(1979)

Dir - Steno

Overall: MEH

On the one hand, Italian filmmaker Steno's, (Stefano Vanzina), comedic take on the Jekyll/Hyde formula is a refreshingly clever one, yet the humor itself is largely on the embarrassingly juvenile side.  The title of Dr. Jekyll Likes Them Hot, (Dottor Jekyll e gentile signora), may allude to it being a straight-ahead boner comedy and while such lighthearted horndog elements are still present, it serves better as an on-the-nose satire of corrupt capitalism.  Here, Paolo Villaggio's title character is a cartoon-villain bad guy who comes up with an elaborate scheme to maximize the profits of a drug conglomerate that he advises.  The world that everyone inhabits has become so cynical and cruel that his over-the-top vileness is not only seen as perfectly normal, but actually applaudable.  The role reversal between his two psyche manifestations occurs where his grandfather's formula turns him into a native, bumbling pacifist, at which point he sets about undoing every diabolical plot that his evil half has set in motion.  His docile demeanor is of course considered "queer" by all parties involved, which is not helped by the fact that Villaggio portrays him as an effeminate sissy who would rather read Bible verses than get in the eagerly-willing pants of sexpot scream queen Edwige Fenech.  The jokes are consistently annoying and of the "man falls down" and/or crude, terribly-aged sex gag variety, but one can at least give it props for tweaking the mythos and having a sardonic edge.

1970s Italian Horror Part Thirty-One

SHADOW OF ILLUSION

(1970)

Dir - Mario Caiano

Overall: MEH

A kind-of/not-really giallo from director Mario Caiano, Shadow of Illusion, (Ombre roventi), has more of an interesting history surrounding it compared to how enticing it is as an actual movie.  Partially shot in Egypt during the latter part of the War of Attrition, the cast and crew were given military escorts in order to get through their scenes.  Caiano claimed to have never seen the completed project, leaving after principal photography wrapped up.  Also, lead actor Daniela Giordano was a last minute replacement for a still unofficially confirmed Luciana Paluzzi dropping out, plus American William Berger decided to hop on out of convenience since he was already in Egypt shooting another movie at the time.  One of several cultural reactions to the Manson Family murders, it has a "hippies from hell" premise where Giordano's largely unemotive fashion model finds herself at the manipulation and mercy of a group of drug-taking scoundrels who conduct human sacrifices, as well as an older gentleman who is either the reincarnation of Osiris or simply claims to be as an effective pick-up line.  It has some trippy sequences, boobs, and wonderful location scenery, but it is mostly an underwritten and sluggish excuse for some slightly evocative sleaze.

 

LA MORTE SCENDE LEGGERA
(1972)
Dir - Leopoldo Savona
Overall: WOOF

 

The penultimate film from director Leopoldo Savona and released the same year as his Byleth: The Demon of Incest, La morte scende leggera, (Death Falls Lightly), is one of the most glacierly paced and moronic giallos in existence.  Convoluted plots were a prerequisite for such movies, but this one pushes plausibility to a breaking point with the police themselves conducting a laughably ridiculous scenario in order to edge Georgio Darica to the point of confessing to the murder of his wife.  Every minute feels like a hour as he and his mistress hold up in an empty hotel in the middle of the city, doing naked things together and eventually screaming at each other.  This is all before random people start showing up and playing with Darica's mind; random people who deliver their inconsequential dialog as if they are in no hurry whatsoever.  Once the ludicrous scheme is divulged, the audience will only have more questions, but the movie stops there with its brand of arbitrary nude/violent/surreal scenes that play the Scooby-Doo twist in the most unsatisfying of manners.  A slow hard rock song by Mack Porter is the only highlight, but Savona's direction is unforgivingly slow and he and Luigi Russo's script, (while differentiating itself from the heard), also insults the audience while asking them to both stay awake and give a shit about something so lazily thought-out.

 

THE FORBIDDEN ROOM

(1977)

Dir - Dino Risi

Overall: GOOD

As he had previously done with 1974's Scent of a Woman, Italian filmmaker Dino Risi adapts yet another literary work from author Giovanni Arpino, this time with the novel L'anima persa.  The Forbidden Room, (Anima persa), stars heavyweights Vittorio Gassman and Catherine Deneuve as an aloof, wealthy couple living in Venice who as it turns out, house a disturbing secret in their sprawling abode that their nephew Danilo Mattei innocently uncovers throughout the course of events.  For a thriller, the plot is uniquely void of intense set pieces.  Instead, the mysterious details unfold almost nonchalantly over conversation as Mattei gradually becomes more inquisitive, both investigating and picking up on the increasingly unhinged behavior of his Aunt and Uncle, finding out where the truth lies within the details that he is given.  The movie is photographed beautifully by Tonino Delli Colli, capturing a naturalistic, age-old Venice, plus the home where it is set gives off haunted mansion vibes as if they people living there have spiritually "died" long before the story starts and are merely taking up space now.  There is a twist of course in the film's final moments that may not seem surprising after all things are considered, but it is nevertheless a somber and dark one that leaves a lingering impression.