
My newest Halloween music mix at 8tracks is called “Giallo Notte” and it contains 14 great music tracks from some of my favorite giallo films such as Dario Argento’s Deep Red (1975), Aldo Lado’s Short Night Of Glass Dolls (1971), Sergio Martino’s The Strange Vice Of Mrs. Wardh (1971) and Emilio Miraglia’s The Red Queen Kills Seven Times (1972), plus much, much more. Enjoy!
Track Listing:
Goblin - “Profondo Rosso” Original Sound Effect Bonus Track (1975) from DEEP RED
Goblin - “Death Dies” Film Version-Part 1 (1975) from DEEP RED
Ennio Morricone - “Valzer” (1971) from SHORT NIGHT OF GLASS DOLLS
Ennio Moricone - “Piume di Cristallo” (1970) from THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMMAGE
Roberto Nicolosi - “Preparando La Trappola E Un’Ombra Nel Buio” (1963) from THE EVIL EYE
Piero Umilani - “Cinque Bambole Versione Coro” (1970) from FIVE DOLLS FOR AN AUGUST MOON
Piero Umilani - “Danza Primitiva” (1970) from FIVE DOLLS FOR AN AUGUST MOON
Sante Maria Romitelli - “Hatchet Shake” (1970) from HATCHET FOR THE HONEYMOON
Nora Orlandi - “The Blade Pleasure” (1971) from THE STRANGE VICE OF MRS. WARDH
Nora Orlandi - “Shakin´ With Edwige” (1971) from THE STRANGE VICE OF MRS. WARDH
Riz Ortolani - “Lombard Street” (1969) from PERVERSION STORY
Riz Ortolani - “Golden Gate Bridge” (1969) from PERVERSION STORY
Bruno Nicolai - “Perche Quelle Strane Gocce Di Sangue Sul Corpo Di Jennifer?” (1972) from THE CASE OF THE BLOODY IRIS
Bruno Nicolai - “La Dama Rossa Uccide Sette Vo” (1972) from THE RED QUEEN KILLS 7 TIMES

From my latest post at The Movie Morlocks:
One of the most iconic images to emerge from the cinema in the 1960s is the figure of a young Sue Lyon, peering over her sunglasses at a leering James Mason in Stanley Kubrick’s LOLITA (1961). And I’m definitely not alone in my view. The Spanish genre director Eloy de la Iglesia must have agreed with me when he decided to cast Sue Lyon in his intriguing futuristic thriller, MURDER IN A BLUE WORLD (aka CLOCKWORK TERROR; 1973). Eloy de la Iglesia’s film has often been labeled a low-budget and poorly constructed Spanish knock-off of Stanley Kubrick’s A CLOCKWORK ORANGE (1971) and it’s easy to understand why. But its meta-referencing goes way beyond A CLOCKWORK ORANGE and tips its hat in equal measure to Kubrick’s LOLITA. In fact, MURDER IN A BLUE WORLD is really an homage to Kubrick himself and possibly one of the most interesting films released in Spain during the early ‘70s.
If you’d like to read more about Sue Lyon in Eloy de la Iglesia’s MURDER IN A BLUE WORLD please follow the link:
- Reinventing Lolita in MURDER IN A BLUE WORLD (1973) @ TCM’s Classic Movie Blog
I’ve also compiled a Flickr gallery of images from the film that you can find here.

I rarely write about modern films or new television shows but if you happen to follow me on Twitter or Facebook you’ve probably noticed that I occasionally mention movies and TV shows that don’t warrant a full post on Cinebeats. My latest obsession is the BBC import currently playing on PBS titled, ZEN (2011).
ZEN is a modern day cop show starring the handsome & talented Rufus Sewell, who should be a household name by now. Sewell’s character is a Venetian detective named Aurelio Zen and he gets to wear expensive Italian suits while solving crimes in Italy. ZEN takes full advantage of the beautiful setting and there’s lots of show stopping shots of the Italian countryside. In ZEN Sewell’s character lives alone with his mother who happens to be played by the beautiful 66-year-old actress, Catherine Spaak and Spaak’s name should be familiar to fans of Italian films like Pasquale Festa Campanile’s The Libertine (1968), Dario Argento’s The Cat O’ Nine Tails (1971) and Antonio Margheriti’s Take a Hard Ride (1975). The show is based on a series of books by British author, Michael Dibdin and if I had to guess I’d say that the directors, writers & casting agents are fans of Italian Poliziotteschi films and possibly Italian horror/giallo films. From the groovy soundtrack to the Gothic settings, ZEN is a show that should appeal to some fans of Italian exploitation films, but be forewarned! It’s slow-moving and takes awhile to get going. And the proceedings have naturally been “softened up” for the BBC television audience. And although it’s set in Italy, ZEN is a BBC production so almost all the actors involved are British performers pretending to be Italian and they don’t bother with fake accents. But if you’re looking for something new to watch on TV, you could do a lot worse than ZEN. The first episode is currently available to watch on the PBS website in case you missed it. Just follow the link posted below to find more information about the show:
- ZEN : Masterpiece Mystery : PBS
As I’ve mentioned before in various places, PBS is currently running some of the best shows on television including SHERLOCK and DOWNTON ABBEY. You can add ZEN to the list of great shows on Public Television right now.

The kind folks at Severin recently invited me to participate in a series of month-long guest blog posts at the Severin Blog where we’re asked to share clips from one of our favorite Severin DVD releases. I decided to write a little bit about Luci Fulci’s excellent Italian thriller Perversion Story (1969), which I originally wrote about in 2007. I love the film and Fulci did an amazing job of capturing the “City by the Bay” in the late ’60s. I spent a lot of time in San Francisco during the ’80s and North Beach was one of my regular haunts so I highlighted a scene Fulci shot on Broadway for my “Clip of the Day.” Please visit the Severin Blog to see the clip and read some of my brief thoughts about the movie.
- Clip Of The Day: Perversions In San Francisco, Fulci’s PERVERSION STORY @ Severin Blog
- Perversion Story - From the Cinebeats’ Archives
I also wanted to mention that Severin has recently released my favorite Alejandro Jodorowsky film on DVD, the magnificent Santa Sangre (1989). Santa Sangre has been one of my favorite films since I originally saw it on video back in 1990. It had an extremely limited theatrical run and hasn’t been available on DVD in the US until now. Severin did an amazing job on their release and the DVD looks terrific. It’s also loaded with extras including:
• Forget Everything You Have Ever Seen: The World Of Santa Sangre. Exclusive Feature Length Making-Of Documentary Featuring All-New Interviews with the Cast And Crew
• Audio Commentary with Jodorowsky and Journalist Alan Jones
• Deleted Scenes with Director Commentary
• For One Week Only: Alejandro Jodorowsky: 1990 UK Documentary
• Goyo Cárdenas Spree Killer: Documentary on the Real Life Inspiration For Santa Sangre
• On Stage Q&A With Jodorowsky
• Jodorowsky 2003 Interview
. . . and more!
Coincidently I also wrote about my deep appreciation for Jodorowsky’s movie back in 2007 when I was asked to select some of my favorite foreign language films for an online poll. At the time I said:
“Santa Sangre is probably Jodorwsky’s darkest effort and it’s also his most fully realized film in my opinion. It’s brimming with unforgettable imagery and startling storytelling techniques that recall an earlier time in European horror cinema. Like many of the films on my list, Santa Sangre is not easy viewing. It demands a lot from potential viewers, but it’s a film that constantly comes to mind when I think about foreign language films that have deeply affected me. It changed the way that I view cinema and shaped my appreciation of the art form.”
I still feel that way today and the Severin’s DVD release has only added to my enjoyment of Jadorowsky’s masterpiece. You can find my full (but brief) comments about Santa Sangre in the Cinebeats Archives.
- 12 Favorite Foreign Language Films (including Santa Sangre) - From the Cinebeats’ Archives

This month Digitmovies is scheduled to release Ennio Morricone’s incredible score for the excellent giallo thriller My Dear Killer aka Mio Caro Assassino (1972). This will be the 9th volume from Italy’s Digitmovies devoted to the original soundtrack recordings of Ennio Morricone and if it’s as good as their previous releases Morricone fans are in for a real treat!
My Dear Killer happens to be one of my favorite giallo films and it was directed by Tonino Valerii who made some great Italian westerns such as My Name is Nobody (1973), but he is probably best known for his work as an assistant director to Sergio Leone during the making of A Fistful of Dollars (1964) and For a Few Dollars More (1965). My Dear Killer was Tonino Valerii’s only giallo film but it’s a smart, creative and surprising thriller that offered its talented star (George Hilton) one of his best roles. In the film Hilton plays a police inspector trying to solve a gruesome series of crimes that may or may not be connected to the kidnapping and murder of a young girl that took place years earlier. Besides George Hilton’s standout performance as Inspector Luca Peretti, My Dear Killer also features one of Ennio Morricone’s most creepy and effective scores.
A few of the tracks from Morricone’s soundtrack for My Dear Killer have been released before on compilation CDs, but the upcoming Digitmovies CD will mark the first time that Morricone’s complete score for My Dear Killer has been made available in any form.
This impressive soundtrack includes haunting vocals provided by the brilliant Edda Dell’Orso who worked closely with the composer on many of his best film scores. All together the CD contains a total of 17 remastered tracks and it’s available just in time for Halloween. If you’re a Morricone fan or just enjoy genuinely eerie film soundtracks you’re definitely going to want to pick up a copy of the My Dear Killer OST.
You can currently purchase new and used copies of the soundtrack for My Dear Killer aka Mio Caro Assassino at Amazon. At the moment these CDs are a little hard to come by since they’re imported from Italy but Digitmovies is still in the process of shipping out orders so check back at Amazon often.
The film is also available on DVD from Amazon and you should be able to rent it at Netflix.com or Greencine.com
I’ve posted the trailer for My Dear Killer aka Mio Caro Assassino below since it also features samples of Ennio Morricone’s score, but if you’ve never seen the movie before you might want to avoid watching it. It’s a great clip (not exactly work safe) but it also happens to be one of the most spoiler filled trailers I’ve ever seen.
Over at The Destructible Man blog an impromptu blogathon has started simply called Destructible Blog-a-thon.1.
The gory details:
We want everybody to bundle up, dig deep into the recesses of their consciousness, fiddle about a bit and then go over to your laptops by the fireplace and post about the cinematic ANIMAL dummy death that you covet the most!
I didn’t have to dig too deep to remember the dummy animal deaths featured in Lucio Fulci’s A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin (aka Una Lucertola con la pelle di donna, 1971). As I’ve mentioned previously, A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin is one of my favorite horror films (as well as on of my favorite giallo films) and it also happens to be my favorite Lucio Fulci movie. It’s easy to find copies of the film on DVD now, but for years it was nearly impossible to see an uncut version of A Lizard in a Women’s Skin due to the movie’s erotic content and one of the most brutally imagined vivisection scenes ever captured on film. The scene was so graphic and believable that it reportedly landed Fulci in hot water with Italian authorities. Special effects artist Carlo Rambaldi was even forced to present the fake dog props used in the film in court to save the director from a possible two-year prison term.
tube down the neck
flesh pulled back
to crawl underneath the skin
the corporate death no sentiment
the pain sustained at will
they preach on high morals lie
in this farce called vivisection
- song lyrics from “Ode to Groovy” by Skinny Puppy
Before making horror films, Lucio Fulci studied medicine and this experience colored his work and lent it an edgy realism that many viewers find incredibly disturbing. As a young medical student Fulci was undoubtedly familiar with vivisection practices and his choice to introduce them into his horror film as an element of terror is both surprising and enlightening. This personal aspect of Fulci’s work is often overlooked by critics who have trouble sifting through the unexpected emotional depths found in many of the director’s best films.
The graphic nature of the faux animal vivisection in A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin is shocking, but I think it’s made more unsettling by the way the director places it into his film. The particular scene in question begins when Carol (played brilliantly by the gorgeous and talented Florinda Bolkan) awakens from a nap she’s just had on the lawn of a psychiatric hospital. Carol’s a murder suspect and a sexually frustrated wife who’s been sent to the hospital to get some rest, but her troubled imagination is working overtime. Lucio Fulci used many creative camera techniques and directing tricks to give his film a haunting dreamlike atmosphere. The director clearly enjoys playing with Freudian dream imagery so the audience is never quite sure what’s real and unreal throughout the course of A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin.


Waking from her nap, Carol has no idea how much time has passed. She looks around the hospital grounds which are strangely silent and empty. A feeling of dread seems to come over her and she’s suddenly startled when she spots a gentleman watching her from the nearby bushes.


She begins to run towards the hospital, but many of the entry ways are blocked.
Carol is running from her past as well as her fears.


When Carol gets inside the hospital she’s greeted by twisting spiral staircases and stark white hallways that seem to go on forever. This Escher-like landscape is a reflection of Carol’s inner turmoil.


She finally finds an open door and steps inside, but the room engulfs her in darkness. This is not the escape Carol or the audience was expecting. As she makes her way through the gloom a light suddenly illuminates the shadow of a human hand behind a curtain. It appears to be holding a pair of sharp scissors. In this brief ode to Hitchcock, Fulci playfully hints at many of his film’s own themes.


Carol experiences a new level of horror after seeing the menacing shadow, but Fulci’s camera suddenly cuts to a doctor’s table carrying various medical instruments. There is no mad killer behind the curtain. Instead we find only a doctor and his tools. What is the threat now? Where is the terror coming from? Why should we fear the doctors?


She continues to run through the hospital before finally reaching another unlocked door and opening it. This time the light within the room illuminates Carol instead of hiding her in shadows. As Fulci zooms in on Carol, her face becomes a mask of terror.


The audience is suddenly shocked by the same revolting images of vivisection that terrified Carol. The dogs are not dead, but they are slowly dying and Carol’s face registers exactly what the audience is expected to be feeling at that moment. As the dogs whimper and twist in agony from the torture they’re suffering at the hands of medical men, Carol’s face becomes a reflection of our own horror and our own fears.



Suddenly Carol is overcome by the terrible site before her and she collapses. Beneath her crumpled body the ground is colored a deep shade of red that resembles spilled blood. The scene ends where it began, in dreams. Dark and troubling dreams.

Top: Carroll Baker has just seen the final cut of The Devil with Seven Faces (1971)
Bottom: Even a cheap gorilla mask couldn’t make the movie any better.
Normally I neglect to write anything about movies I dislike. I never have enough time to write about all the films I like so why waste my time writing about films I don’t? But occasionally my disappointment in a film runs so deep that I feel the need to save others from suffering what I’ve just endured. This is one of those times.
I had high expectations for director Osvaldo Civirani’s 1971 thriller The Devil with Seven Faces (aka Il Diavolo a sette facce) when I stuck it into my DVD player. The film stars two of my favorite actors, the lovely American actress Carroll Baker along with the talented George Hilton. Stephen Boyd also has a major role in the film along with the always entertaining Luciano “the Italian Peter Lorre” Pigozzi, genre favorite Daniele Vargas and the cute Lucretia Love. The script for The Devil with Seven Faces was co-written by Tito Carpi who also co-wrote a lot of good spaghetti westerns such as Fistful of Lead (1970), Any Gun Can Play (1967) and Django Shoots First (1968). And last but not least, the film features a score by two of my favorite composers; the amazing Stelvio Cipriani and Nora Orlandi.

Top: George Hilton and Carroll Baker feign interest in one another.
Bottom: Luciano Pigozzi channels Peter Lorre.
The convoluted plot of The Devil with Seven Faces involves a diamond heist that goes wrong, some conniving twin sisters (played unconvincingly by Carroll Baker) and a large batch of bad guys who stumble all over themselves trying to get to Carroll Baker and the million dollar diamond. For some reason a lot of reviewers insist on calling The Devil with Seven Faces a “giallo” film and as far as I can tell, it’s not. Contrary to many critical opinions, I don’t believe that one mysterious corpse and a long irrelevant title with the word “devil” in it suddenly turns any Italian movie into a giallo film. The Devil with Seven Faces seems to simply be an original crime movie written by Tito Carpi and director Osvaldo Civirani without any literary basis. Or to be more exact; it’s a “heist film” in the same tradition as countless other European heist films I’ve seen. I love a good heist film but unfortunately The Devil with Seven Faces is not good.
Osvaldo Civirani’s direction is completely uninspired and hampered by Walter Civirani’s lackluster photography. Mauro Contini’s sloppy editing also doesn’t do the film any favors. The Devil with Seven Faces totally lacks suspense and even the car chases and shoot-outs managed to be uninteresting. The mild sex scenes seemed forced and were extremely ineffective, which is a shame considering they involved Carroll Baker and George Hilton. Unfortunately the terrific cast, wonderful score and a potentially worthwhile script could not save this poorly constructed film. I get no joy from saying that The Devil with Seven Faces is one of the worst films I’ve seen all year. I really wanted to enjoy this movie but it let me down again and again. It’s possible that an uncut version of the film exists that is somehow better than the version I watched, but I have no desire to revisit the movie if a new print does surface. There are only three reasons I watched all 90 minutes of The Devil with Seven Faces so I thought I’d at least make mention of them.

Top: George Hilton as racecar driver Tony Shane.
Bottom: George Hilton shoots the director.
George Hilton’s character in The Devil with Seven Faces is underwritten and he doesn’t seem to get as much screen-time as his costars. But unlike Carroll Baker who seems to be sleepwalking through the entire movie, and Stephen Boyd who comes across as rather sleazy and unappealing here; Hilton at least seems to be trying to make the most of his role. He also looks terrific in his ’70s style fashions. Hilton’s wardrobe consists of lots of great looking racing jackets and expensive sunglasses. A sharp dressed man will often keep my attention in a lackluster film, especially if that man happens to be someone like George Hilton. And last but not least, Hilton’s multiple death scenes in The Devil with Seven Faces are the highlights of the movie.
The soundtrack for The Devil with Seven Faces was so good that it actually managed to elevate the film at times and made me forget how completely dull it was. Stelvio Cipriani composed the music and Nora Orlandi adds lots of lush vocalisms to just about every track. Their work together on The Devil with Seven Faces is truly fantastic and I’d love to get a copy of the entire soundtrack. I’m sure I have bits and pieces of the music on one or two of the library compilations I own but the score really deserves to be heard in its entirety.

Top: Carol Baker modeling her “ill-fitting bright blue fright wig”
Bottom: Lucretia Love modelng her “messy red Ronald McDonald wig”
One of the great things about European thrillers and crime films made during the ’60s and early ’70s is the fashions, hairstyles and modern design that can often make a potentially dull film much more interesting. Unfortunately The Devil with Seven Faces is sorely lacking in all these things. Even when the cast was wearing something that caught my eye, the horrible photography and direction usually made the fashions almost impossible to fully see. Most of the film seemed to be shot from the waist up or the waist down and it was littered with pointless close-ups that didn’t compliment anyone. Thankfully Carroll Baker and Lucretia Love had lots of unnecessary wig changes that managed to keep me entertained. I’ve seen a lot of bad wigs used in films before, but Carroll Baker’s ill-fitting bright blue fright wig and Lucretia Love’s messy red Ronald McDonald wig absolutely floored me. What in the world was hair stylist Iolanda Conti (aka Jolanda Conti) thinking? I do commend Steven Boyd for somehow keeping a straight face during the scenes where he was forced to appear opposite “the wigs.”

Top: Steven Boyd showing off his acting chops.
Bottom: Daniele Vargas was so bored on the set that he started looking at porn to pass the time.
I truly wish I had more positive things to say about The Devil with Seven Faces, but unless you happen to be a George Hilton or Carroll Baker completist like myself, a huge fan of Stelvio Cipriani and Nora Orlandi’s scores or just curious to see some of the worst wigs imaginable, then I can’t encourage you to spend 90 minutes with this movie. If you do decide to watch The Devil with Seven Faces I recommend doing so with a good bottle of wine by your side.
The Devil with Seven Faces is available on DVD from Alpha Home Entertainment and it’s currently selling for the appropriately low price of $7.98 at Amazon.
If you’d like to see more images from the film please see my Flickr Gallery for The Devil with Seven Faces.
At the Britannica blog Raymond Benson has finished listing off his Top 10 Favorite Films of 1968 so if you’re interested in the final results stop by and give them a look. I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions how much I dislike making lists of favorite films myself since they’re limited by what I’ve seen and are subject to change at anytime. Roger Ebert recently asked his blog readers to “. . . agree that all lists of movies are nonsense.” I agreed with him wholeheartedly at the time, but in the process of watching Raymond Benson share his list favorite films from 1968 I naturally began thinking of my own favorite films released the same year.
Compiling a list of favorite films restricted by their release date without implying that they’re “the best” (whatever that means) started to seem like a fun exercise. And while reading the complaints and reservations about Raymond Benson’s own selections I even suggested that it would be interesting if all the participants of the Britannica blog “round-table” supplied their own list of Top 10 Favorite Films for 1968 so we could compare them. I figured that if we were going to scrutinize Raymond Benson’s selections we might as well scrutinize each other. I also thought that it would probably enrich the discussion. No one else seemed willing or able to share a list of there own picks, but for the past two weeks I’ve been quietly compiling a list of my own favorite films from 1968.
I wasn’t planing on sharing my own list with anyone, but over the weekend I listened to an interesting discussion between Greencine’s David Hudson, Film Comment’s Gavin Smith and film critic Jonathan Rosenbaum about the current state of film criticism that got me contemplating my list again. During the discussion Jonathan Rosenbaum smartly pointed out that, “People love lists now because they need to. There’s too much to navigate through.” In my own experience I’ve found this to be very true. Since I started blogging my “Favorite DVDs of the year” lists for 2006 and 2007 have become some of my most popular posts and they’ve generated some lively discussions and lots of email. I think other people appreciate them because they offer a brief look at some films I’ve enjoyed and recommend. And in the words of Jonathan Rosenbaum, the lists are easy to navigate through.
So without further explanation, here’s a list of some of my own favorite films from 1968. I couldn’t manage to narrow all my choices down to a mere Top 10 so I just decided to share my Top 20 list instead. I purposefully left off documentaries so you won’t find any listed and four of the films on my list were also on Raymond Benson’s list. The numerical order doesn’t mean much and naturally my list is subject to change at anytime since I’m continually being exposed to new movies. It also should be noted that after looking at various print and online sources I’ve come across different release dates for some films. As far as I know, the following 20 films were originally released in 1968.

1. If…. (Lindsay Anderson; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about If…. can be found HERE and HERE.

2. Black Lizard aka Kurotokage (Kinji Fukasaku; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about Black Lizard can be found HERE.
I’m currently working on a much longer article about the film and its star that I hope to share here soon.

3. Spirits of the Dead aka Histoires Extraordinaires
(Federico Fellini, Louis Malle & Roger Vadim; 1968)
Some of my thought about Spirits of the Dead can be found HERE.

4. Teorema (Pier Paolo Pasolini; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about Teorema can be found HERE.

5. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick; 1968)

6. Diabolik aka Danger: Diabolik! (Mario Bava; 1968)
Some of my brief thoughts about Diabolik can be found HERE.

7. Succubus aka Necronomicon - Geträumte Sünden (Jesus Franco; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about Succubus can be found HERE.

8. The Great Silence aka Il Grande silenzio (Sergio Corbucci; 1968)
Some of my thought about The Great Silence can be found HERE and HERE.

9. Rosemary’s Baby (Roman Polanski; 1968)

10. Petulia (Richard Lester; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about Petulia can be found HERE.

11. Blackmail Is My Life aka Kyokatsu koso Waga Jinsei ( Kinji Fukasaku; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about Blackmail Is My Life can be found HERE

12. Boom! (Joesph Losey; 1968)
My lengthy look at Boom! can be found HERE.

13. Night of the Living Dead (George Romero; 1968)

14. The Thomas Crown Affair (Norman Jewison; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about The Thomas Crown Affair can be found HERE.

15. Girl on a Motorcycle aka Naked Under Leather (Jack Cardiff; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about Alain Delon and Girl on a Motorcycle can be found HERE.

16. Once Upon a Time in the West aka C’era una volta il West
(Sergio Leone; 1968)
Some of my thoughts about Once Upon a Time in the West can be found HERE.

17. Death Laid an Egg aka La Morte ha fatto l’uovo (Giulio Questi; 1968)
I briefly mentioned my fondness for Death Laid an Egg HERE.

18. The Devil Rides Out aka The Devil’s Bride (Terence Fisher; 1968)

19. The Party (Blake Edwards; 1968)

20. Barbarella (Roger Vadim; 1968)
Honorable mention goes to the wonderful Yokai Monster films that I wrote about a few weeks ago.
By 1973 Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton’s nine year marriage was coming to an end and both actors wanted to focus on their individual careers. Night Watch (1973) features one of Elizabeth Taylor’s few solo performances as an actress while she was married to Burton and it’s one of my favorite Taylor films from the 70s’ for multiple reasons. First and foremost, it’s a thriller and I love a good creepy thriller with an unexpected twist ending. The film also stars the gorgeous Laurence Harvey who had previously appeared with Taylor in the Oscar winning melodrama Butterfield 8 (1960) and I enjoy watching Taylor and Harvey together. Not only do they provide some incredible eye-candy, but they also have an interesting chemistry on screen. Taylor delivers one of her most unusual and unexpected performances in Night Watch that clearly mocks some of her previous roles, while playing smartly with audience expectations. And lastly, Night Watch evokes many of my favorite Alfred Hitchcock films.
The film was based on a play by Lucille Fletcher who made a name for herself writing suspenseful radio plays in the early forties such as The Hitch-Hiker (1941), which was originally performed by Orson Welles and The Campbell Playhouse and later turned into an episode of The Twilight Zone, as well as Sorry, Wrong Number (1946), which became an Oscar nominated film in 1947 directed by Anatole Litvak. Lucille Fletcher was married to the great film composer Bernard Herrmann, who also got his start working with Welles on classic films like Citizen Kane (1941) and The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) before he made an even bigger name for himself composing scores for popular Alfred Hitchcock thrillers like Vertigo (1958), North by Northwest (1959) and Psycho (1960). Although Lucille Fletcher and Bernard Herrmann divorced in 1948, it’s impossible to watch Night Watch and not be reminded of many of Hitchcock’s best films. The script seems to borrow a bit from Suspicion (1941), Dial M for Murder (1954), Rear Window (1954) and Psycho (1960), while combing elements of Fletcher’s earlier plays.



In Night Watch Elizabeth Taylor stars as a wealthy but reclusive woman called Ellen Wheller who suspects that her current husband John (Laurence Harvey) and her best friend Sarah (Billie Whitelaw) are having an affair behind her back. Things take an odd turn one dark and stormy night when Taylor peers through a window and much like James Stewart in Rear Window, she thinks she’s seen a murder take place in an old abandoned house next door. Since she’s prone to hysteria Ellen ’s husband doesn’t believe her, but he reluctantly calls the police anyway. When the police finally arrive and search the old house they find no evidence that a murder has taken place there. Ellen suspects that her neighbor (Robert Lang) might be involved and remains convinced that she’s seen a horrendous crime occur. Taylor’s character is also plagued by terrible nightmares involving her first husband (Kevin Colson) who was killed in a car crash that happened while he was fooling around in his car with a pretty young woman (Linda Hayden). Ellen’s nightmares and paranoia about her husband’s infidelity cause her a lot of anxiety. And as the film progresses she tries to numb her emotional pain and strange visions with alcohol and pills that are often administrated by her husband and good friend. Are horrible crimes taking place in the old abandoned house next door or are they just a figment of Elizabeth Taylor’s disturbed mind? Is Laurence Harvey trying to kill Taylor or drive her mad and take control of her fortune? The surprising answers to these questions are unveiled in the film’s shocking climax!
Warning - before you keep reading I suggest stopping here unless you’re familiar with the film because there are spoilers ahead and being aware of the film’s important plot twists before you have the opportunity to see Night Watch can definitely ruin the effectiveness of the film!
On the surface, the plot of Night Watch appears to be similar to many “women-in-peril” thrillers, but just when you assume you know the direction the film is taking, Night Watch explodes in a bloody finale that’s sure to leave a few viewers shocked. Instead of playing the typical female victim prone to hysteria, Elizabeth Taylor’s charactor turns out to be a cold and calculating murderess who brutally kills her philandering husband and best friend before gracefully exiting the film in grand style.

Night Watch was directed by the American director Brian G. Hutton whose other films include Where Eagles Dare (1968) with Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood, as well as Zee and Co. (1972) which also featured Elizabeth Taylor along with Michael Caine, Susannah York and Margaret Leighton (who was once married to Lawrence Harvey). In Night Watch, the director was able to create a suspenseful atmosphere and maintain it throughout the course of the film. Since the story takes place in London with a mostly British cast, the film is reminiscent of other great British thrillers released during the same period. The film also contains closeup shots of gloved hands and large kitchen knives that were commonly seen in numerous giallo films at the time. Hutton’s directing skills are really on display during Taylor’s extremely eerie and effective nightmare sequences, which are creatively shot with the help of the Oscar winning British cinematographer Billy Williams. The director manages to include some interesting visual clues that suggest that Elizabeth Taylor is controlling the events unfolding in the film. Taylor’s constantly seen playing with a puzzle and trying to fit the pieces together while the audience is left in the dark tripping over multiple red-herrings.
The Italian designer Valentino made all of Taylor’s outfits for the film and frankly I just get a big kick out seeing Taylor playing a crazy, hard-drinking, pill-popping woman wearing fabulous purple robes designed by Valentino. She also gets to wear some low-key Valentino tailored fashions in the film as well. Elizabeth Taylor was no longer the slender young woman seen in her earlier roles, but she still looks terrific in Night Watch and manages to make the most of her role. Her performance is surprisingly nuanced and probably somewhat inspired by Anthony Perkins turn as Norman Bates in Hitchcock’s Psycho. Even the murders she commits in the film are slightly reminiscent of the way Bates killed his victims, but I’ve rarely seen an actor have so much fun pretending to slit throats. During the frantic murder scene at the end of the film Taylor looks utterly maniacal and plain frightening as she slashes her way through her costars.
None of the other actors in the film besides Laurence Harvey, Billie Whitelaw and Robert Lang get more than a few minutes of screen time, which is a shame. I really like the British actress Linda Hayden who’s appeared in some great British horror films and she’s wonderfully creepy in Night Watch, but she has no dialogue in the film and if you blink you just might miss her.
Elizabeth Taylor and Laurence Harvey become friends on the set of Butterfield 8 and remained close until his untimely death. Both actors were heavy drinkers and their careers were in decline when they decided to team up again and make Night Watch in late 1972. Taylor and Harvey ended up having such a terrific time on the set of the film together that they started making plans to co-star in another thriller in the near future, but unfortunately it never happened. Harvey was diagnosed with cancer during the making of Night Watch and it’s assumed that he was in considerable pain during filming. His performance here is rather low-key and seems to suggest that he wasn’t feeling his best, but he’s still very believable as Taylor’s neglectful husband. Sadly, Laurence Harvey died just three months after Night Watch was released.



Night Watch is currently only available as a poor quality pan and scan video at the moment and I’d really like to see Brian G. Hutton’s film get restored and released on DVD since it should definitely hold appeal for Elizabeth Taylor fans and anyone who enjoys unusual Hitchcock inspired thrillers. I’ve heard rumors that a PAL Region 2 DVD of Night Watch might be released later this year, but I haven’t been able to confirm it anywhere. If anyone else happens to know anything about the rumored PAL Region 2 DVD release of Night Watch, please let me know!
If you’d like to see more images from the film please see my Night Watch Flickr Gallery.
* Note: The term “kill face” was borrowed from Arbogast on Film.

