Las lágrimas de Jennifer

The Case of the Bloody Iris is one of the most entertaining giallo's of them all.

I do realize that it's far from perfect. It's got wooden performances, childish dialogue, illogical moments (more than a few), plot holes etc..., but it's entertaining as hell. These pure giallo's are guilty pleasures to be sure, featuring a number of knockout damsels in distress, gory murders, black gloved killers, a murder mystery with endless red herrings, law officials without an IQ and almost universally badly dubbed actors.

Here we have it all in abundance and it all works. The women here are quite simply stunning, the murder scenes inventive and well done, the appropriate amount of sleaze, impressive visuals and nice location scenery, a terrific musical score (catchy as hell), decent acting and a fair amount of shocks and suspense. It's also quite funny at times, I've never before or after seen a detective obsessing with stamps.

Highly recommended if you're a fan of giallo films.

After the murder of a call girl in a building, the dweller Mizar Harrington (Carla Brait), who is a fighter and stripper in a nightclub, is drowned in her bathtub by the killer. The administrator and architect Andrea Antinori (George Hilton) offers the apartment to the models Jennifer Lansbury (Edwige Fenech) and Marilyn Ricci (Paola Quattrini) for a reasonable price and they move to the flat. Jennifer is the ex-wife of the hippie Adam (Ben Carrá), who forced her to practice group sex and now harasses her all the time. Soon Andrea hits on Jennifer and she becomes his girlfriend. When Adam is found dead in Jennifer's apartment, Andrea becomes the prime suspect of Commissioner Enci (Giampiero Albertini), who assigns his Assistant Commissioner Renzi (Franco Agostini) to follow him everywhere. However, Jennifer believes Andrea is innocent and suspects that one of her neighbors might be the killer.

"Perché quelle strane gocce di sangue sul corpo di Jennifer?", a.k.a. "The Case of the Bloody Iris", is a Italian thriller silly and predictable. The goofy Marilyn Ricci is an annoying and unfunny character; Commissioner Enci is ridiculous and dull; the dialogs are very poor; and the music score is irritating and dated. It is not difficult to know who the killer is. But may be entertaining for fans of "giallo" genre. My vote is six.

Title (Brazil): "As Lágrimas de Jennifer" ("The Tears of Jennifer")

When I'm blue, the movies I look for aren't comedies. Film comedies work too hard, follow too many script formulas and when I am blue it is because I have worked too hard following similar internal scripts.

What I need and what you might like are films that are so abstract they have almost nothing to do with reality. They abstract from other movies in a kind of Xerox of Xerox way so that what you get has nothing to do with reality and all to do with film-making.

And no one is better at empty films, films with no emotional content or soul than Italians. Elsewhere I've noted that the Hollywood Italians attach to characters and violence as cinematic icons. Leone abstracted from the western and character fantasy.

Giallo is similar but does something a bit more clever to my mind. It has (for the time) extreme violence and sex (usually a few nipples) but not having much to do with each other. It takes these two abstractions and places it in a highly refined mystery-thriller context.

The way these things work is you have sexy women — or thought so for the era, and since these are Italians, we are talking compliant bigbreasted teases. These are in some sex- related trades and get killed by some serial murderer. Many candidates are described, as if this were a real detective story that we could figure out. We can't of course; when the thing was abstracted all the elements of logic went, things like causality and clues.

In fact, it works in reverse. The things that seem logical turn out not to be. Illogic is always the way.

I like this giallo best of them all. It is the most stylish, the most cinematic (except for the murders which are mundane). By cinematic, I mean the way things are staged, the edges of walls are used. Mirrors.

And it has two characters that are extremely evocative. One is a carbon copy of Woody Allen, appearance, mannerisms and all. He is a photographer here in much the same stance that Allen himself appears as a filmmaker in many of his own movies. Logic says he is the killer.

Then we see a woman in the building where the main action takes place. You will swear that this is the same actor: Woody in disguise. All logic points to this Psycho-based notion.

There's a further structural/character fold. Another character — about whom we learn has a bloody past — is an architect. Now architects in movies are always special people, especially when they have the "plans" to what is important. Logic also says this is the guy and the story duly frames him.

Another movie reference: one potential killer is a member of a group sex, free love new age society. The bloody iris is not a sliced eyeball as you would expect. The iris is the symbol of this sexual commune and one appears bloody. _____

There's a scene in here that I value. You know how it is, that each genre has one scene that is so perfect it acts as a strange attractor for the whole genre? Here we have an inept European policeman who is investigating the crimes: young women in sexy jobs being killed. He and his boss are in an ornate office that one could only imagine of Italians.

The policeman is handed a letter, a piece of evidence and is asked his opinion. The cop goes on and on about how ordinary the stamp is, as if the entire value of the thing had nothing to do with the meaning of the letter, nor the document on which that meaning is recorded, nor even the container for that document, instead the designation on the container — the stamp — that indicates its genre only.

Watch this if you are blue.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.

Stylish, alluring, and agreeable, "The Case of the Bloody Iris" is a straightforward giallo less notable for its dexterous offings and more for leading lady Edwige Fenech, the inarguable queen of the genre. While never reaching the orgasmic heights of other masterpieces of the era (most helmed by Dario Argento and Mario Bava, of course), "The Case of the Bloody Iris" is still a splendidly fun (albeit gory) murder mystery that embraces its ridiculousness and makes up for convoluted time with sophisticated design and worthy blood-soaked set pieces. It's an admirable time waster, a slasher dressed to the nines in pre-De Palma swank.

As in all gialli, a gloved killer wrapped in sharp black is mercilessly butchering physically beautiful young women for kicks, this time in a luxurious high rise apartment. Days after two women are murdered in a twenty-four hour period, models Jennifer (Edwige Fenech) and Marilyn (Paola Quattrini) move into one of the victims' apartment, hardly worried about the room's sordid past. "Life goes on," Marilyn scoffs, as if wishing to jinx herself into murder mystery oblivion. But it doesn't take long for the pair to realize that such things can hardly be laughed off, especially when considering the building itself seems to contain a number of shady characters easily able to commit such heinous acts. Suspects include a stereotyped lesbian neighbor, a misogynistic old woman that lives with her disturbingly deformed son, and even Jennifer's love interest (George Hilton), an architect with a crippling phobia of blood. And it doesn't help that Jennifer's maniacal ex-husband (Ben Carra) enjoys spending his days stalking his former wife instead of making a living.

In order to fully enjoy "The Case of the Bloody Iris", one must disregard the horrendous dubbing, the severely stiff performances, and the regularly asinine script — because this is a film about style and Edwige Fenech, not much else. (Those expecting the normal amount of generous giallo gore will be sorely disappointed.) The first murder is exquisitely shot — with hardly a word of dialogue to spare, it follows a comely blonde from a telephone booth to her apartment building's elevator, where she winds up slashed to death after the passengers depart one by one. Clearly inspiration for Angie Dickinson's gruesome offing in "Dressed to Kill" (which is miles better), the scene sets the tone of the film: absurd but competently suspenseful. Because much of the film is absurd — Jennifer's religious cult back-story is unneeded and contains a gratuitous orgy scene (hardly graphic) more laughable than tantalizing, and her bad habit of wandering away from safety in a time of danger is maddening — but, for the most part, "The Case of the Bloody Iris" classes it up while later '70s peers of the "Black Christmas" mindset didn't. It cares more about how it appears than how it builds intellectually, so thank God it looks like the chic second cousin of "Blowup" or some other mod infused character study.

Best of all is Edwige Fenech: never have I seen her in one of her famous gialli (those were directed by Sergio Martino, and I'm still in the process of trying to find a copy to view), and this film gives an idea as to why she is an underground legend. With her cat eyes, voluptuous figure, and jet black hair, it's impossible not to stare at her, mouth agape and all. One can hardly call her a fine actress, but Fenech has presence, a characteristic hardly found in other giallo women like Barbara Bouchet or Ida Galli. The camera clings to her composure almost passively; she can turn a poorly executed scene into a work of art by merely acting as its center. Maybe her films with Martino are better, but "The Case of the Bloody Iris" is a giallo minor but palatable.

Out of all the gialli I own, the Case of the Bloody Iris is the most fun to watch. It has a healthy dose of humour, great atmosphere, beautiful euro-babes, and a tight plot. It's also extremely funky and stylish. A winner all the way.

Edwige Fenech, one of the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous women ever to grace the screen, plays Jennifer, a model who moves into an apartment with her crazy model buddy. The problem is, someone in the building has a habit of killing models, and Jennifer and her pal are next up for a stabbing.

You've got the classic giallo list of suspects, most of which spend their time drooling over Edwige's body: the lesbian neighbour and her father, the old lady and her dark secret, the landlord and his fear of blood, Edwige's ex-husband the cult leader. Plenty of inappropriate sexual advances follow, sometimes under the craziest of circumstances.

Throw in a couple of bumbling cops, some topless wrestling involving the also-gorgeous Carla Berle (Torso, Bronx Warriors), and the dizziest sidekick ever to appear in a giallo, and you've got a great movie right there. Edwige, Carla and some other girls ain't too shy about showing off their assets either, if you know what I'm saying.

Top marks go to Edwige's roommate, who has the best dialogue throughout the entire movie. She's possible my favourite Giallo character ever, what with her non-chalant attitude to everything. At one point she recreates on of the murders with ditsy glee - jumping out of a bath in the scud and shouting "I'm a ghost!", which earns her a seventies slap in the gub.

Get it now - Academic, over serious, chin-strokers with no sense of irony need not apply.