Census Bloodbath: Slayboy

For the Scream 101 episode about this film, click here.

Year: 1987

Director: Lamberto Bava

Cast: Serena Grandi, Daria Nicolodi, Vanni Corbellini
Run Time: 1 hour 34 minutes
MPAA Rating: UR

Italian horror in the late 1980’s was in a very strange place. The thrilling, erotic giallo genre had long since died down, but international markets were still demanding more and more slasher content. The two big Italian horror exports that year, despite sharing four crew members and almost a whole title, explored two polar opposite approaches. Those films were Deliria AKA StageFright: Aquarius and Delirium AKA Photos of Gloria. They shared a costume designer, composer Simon Boswell, star David Brandon, and writer/actor George Eastman, but they couldn’t be more different.

Michele Soavi’s StageFright resurrects the idiosyncratic visual style of Dario Argento and applies it to a delightfully gory romp through slasher excess, whereas Delirium: Photos of Gloria (our topic for today) takes a more self-reflective approach, wearing the faded patches of the giallo genre on its sleeve yet failing to find the energy to rise above being mildly intelligent softcore trash.

Nobody got out of the 80’s with their dignity intact.

Delirium assembled a robust team of the giallo old guard to bring its story to life. Legacy director Lamberto Bava (son of cinema legend Mario Bava) helmed a crew that included Don’t Torture a Duckling screenwriter Gianfranco Clerici, Five Women for the Killer editor Mauro Bonanni, and The Scorpion with Two Tails production designer Massimo Antonello Geleng. And that cast is a nonstop barrage of familiar faces, both old and new.

The story is simple enough. Gloria (Serena Grandi of Anthropophagus) is an ex-nudie model who now runs a men’s magazine. Unfortunately the women who pose for the cover start turning up dead, photographed in front of a massive blow-up of Gloria which was shot during an unpublished modeling session that very few people have access to. She and the useless Inspector Corsi (Lino Salemme of Lamberto Bava’s earlier Demons) must find out who the killer is before they turn their sights on her.

The suspect pool is rather large, as Gloria is surrounded with intimate friends and coworkers who have all been acting rather peculiar lately…. First there’s Flora (Capucine of the Pink Panther series), a matronly lesbian who wants to buy Gloria’s magazine out of revenge for her resisting the woman’s advances. The list goes on and on from there: Mark (Karl Zinny, also of Demons), her wheelchair-bound Peeping Tom neighbor; Gloria’s actor ex-lover Alex (George Eastman, the impossibly tall cannibal from Anthropophagus), who always seems to be conveniently out of town whenever the murders occur; the stand-offish photographer Roberto (the aforementioned David Brandon); her brother and partner in crime Tony (Vanni Corbellini of The Belly of an Architect); and her dutiful – almost too dutiful – assistant Evelyn (Argento collaborator/ex-wife Daria Nicolodi of Tenebrae, Deep Red, Suspiria, and so forth).

Shockingly, she actually survives this movie.

Even though the cast isn’t particularly small, it’s intimate. There are practically no other characters involved, and the interpersonal relationships between almost every combination of personalities are explored with some depth. This is a giallo with an exceptionally focused murder mystery plot (that’s a low bar, but still) because the people populating it are at least mildly interesting all across the board.

That’s just about the last unequivocally good thing I’ll be saying about Delirium, but let’s keep this positive train a–chuggin’ for another minute. Seeing how the film is such a blend of old and new, it really is an interesting reflection on the genre it more or less put out to pasture. Much like Dario Argento’s Tenebrae five years earlier, it’s as much a meditation on misogyny in the genre as it is a pristine example of it.

With the most phallic, penetrative imagery this side of Slumber Party Massacre’s giant power drill, Delirium is a 90-minute exercise in foregrounding the never-quite-subtle sexual symbolism evident in the slasher and giallo genres. If you don’t want spoilers (like anybody cares), skip until after the next image.

The killer here targets women as an outlet for his rage at his impotence, a theme that has never been explored more explicitly (except maybe in the chainsaw seduction scene of Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2). When the killer finally confronts Gloria, he undresses her with his blade, sticking it in her mouth and rubbing it across her body until he’s literally shot in the dick and “ejaculates” blood all over her face. And every other death is so symbolically penetrative it’s almost obscene, especially the sequence where a nude young woman is stung to death by hundreds of bees.

Truly delightful.

The overtly misogynistic violence clashes against the film’s depiction of women who have sexual autonomy and hold high-powered jobs, manipulating the voyeuristic eye of the camera and the men holding it.

But mostly of course, this is all just an excuse to shove as many bare breasts into the frame as physically possible. It’s a shame such an intelligent, knowing visual theme has to be supported by a weak softcore plot and actors who perform like this is the very first rehearsal of a high school play. It also features a completely unnecessary and inexcusable rape scene, which tilts the balance too far over the edge into genuinely nasty exploitation.

Delirium: Photos of Gloria tries its best, but it’s a thin wisp of a film; a sad straggler from a genre that had more or less already been interred. If you’re going for a taste of 1987 Italy, StageFright bridges the gap between Italian giallo and American slasher with aplomb, whereas Delirium merely plummets to its demise.

Killer: [Tony (Vanni Corbellini)]
Final Girl: Gloria (Serena Grandi)
Best Kill: My fingernails never can survive a good bee sting death.
Sign of the Times: Oh, Simon Boswell. You really had a time and a place.

Scariest Moment: Gloria visits her husband’s grave and finds her photo attached to the next casket.
Weirdest Moment: From the killer’s perspective, one of his victims has a giant eyeball for a head.
Champion Dialogue: “I warn you, the hate of a woman can be very bad!”
Body Count: 4; shockingly low for this type of movie.

1. Kim is pitchforked in the gut.
2. Sabrina is stung to death by bees.
3. Susan is killed offscreen.
4. Roberto is hit by a car.

TL;DR: Delirium: Photos of Gloria tries very very hard to be artful and worthwhile, but flails behind abysmal acting and softcore plotting.
Rating: 4/10
Word Count: 1076

Census Bloodbath: The Rage Of Aquarius

For our podcast episode about this very film, click here.

Year: 1987

Director: Michele Soavi

Cast: David Brandon, Barbara Cupisti, Robert Gligorov

Run Time: 1 hour 30 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

In my experience, there is a big divide between the slasher movies that people imagine and the slasher movies that actually exist. Everyone knows the set-up: a bunch of horny teens move to an isolated location and doff their tops until a big guy in a mask renders them literally topless with a machete or maybe a pair of garden shears. 

These are the tropes and traditions that come to mind when one thinks of a typical 80's horror flick. But in my unfortunately vast experience, the average slasher is nowhere near as fun, campy, sexy, or gory as the ones we picture in our heads. Many slashers are bland, tasteless affairs that are either gutted by the MPAA or left floundering by an inept filmmaker. Sure, there are plenty of tasteless, sleazy, gory masterpieces like Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter or The House on Sorority Row, but more often than not the micro-budget formula of slasher movies leads to a bunch of junky clunkers.

I do still tend to enjoy these lesser slasher films, but like a connoisseur of fine wines (or an overly devoted Katherine Heigl fan), I've developed a taste for them. So don't go thinking I'll abandon ship on Census Bloodbath. No way no how, this feature is my pride and joy. I'm just saying that this project involves a lot of long slogs through underlit, flavorless wafers to get to the good stuff. I want you to understand this. I want you to know the entire background of where I'm coming from so you'll listen good when I tell you that StageFright: Aquarius (aka Deliria) is one of the best damn slasher films I've ever seen.

It's a certainly flawed, utterly demented little beastie, but I'll be darned if I can find another late 80's slashfest that's such a dynamic, twisted joy to watch.

It's pretty much Birdman with a chainsaw, so it's technically the Best Best Picture.

StageFright hails from the hallowed grounds of Italy and is a product of some of the greatest horror minds of the era. First time director Michele Soavi had previously worked under giallo maestro Dario Argento for many years, producer Joe D'Amato was already notoriously prolific in the Italian horror/softcore business, and the script was even penned by George Eastman, who played the villainous cannibal in the astonishingly effective 1980 proto-slasher Anthropophagus.

But enough with that nerd garbage. Let's get to some slicin' and dicin'! StageFright: Aquarius takes place at a run-down American theater, where a troupe of out-of-work actors is putting together a terrible play described as an "intellectual musical" by its pompous director Peter (David Brandon). The play, which revolves around a series of murders perpetrated by a dancing man with an owl mask, comes to wicked life when an escaped lunatic named Irving Wallace (Clain Parker) sabotages their rehearsal and begins murdering the cast one by one while they're locked in for the night.

The play's cast forms some of the most interesting and varied Meat I've seen in my many years as a slasher historian. The characters are still painted in bloody broad brush strokes, but they capture the attention more than a generic slate of teen spam. 

There's Alicia (Barbara Cupisti of Opera and The New York Ripper), a pleasant young woman with a sprained ankle who desperately needs the money this role can provide; Corinne (Loredana Parrella), the young ingenue who reads Stanislavsky, wildly overpreparing for a play where a ballet owl murders hookers; Laurel (Mary Sellers), the Designated Slut who will do anything for her own gain; Brett (Giovanni Lombardo Radice), the sassy gay friend that every theater kid remembers having in high school; Sybil (Jo Ann Smith), a feisty young woman who is encumbered with both an unwanted fetus and a feathered mullet - it's up to you to decide which is worse; and Danny (Robert Gligorov of Murder-Rock: Dancing Death, which is a real movie), Sybil's baby daddy and Sting's evil twin.

It's pretty easy to watch every breath Danny takes. He doesn't have many left.

As the quickly dwindling group makes their way around the darkened theater in an attempt to find either the key or an escape route, the film slowly reaches a boil, tossing out everything it's got in a rip-roaring climax of chaotic mayhem. The final act of this film is like a shot of pure adrenaline, propelling any fan of slasher panache or cinematic composition out of their seats with a rousing hurrah. OK, maybe I'm a little drunk on gore, this is my first slasher in a while. But it's great!

The best thing about StageFright is that it's full of surprises. Just when you think you have the film pegged, there's a new surrealistic shock around the corner. Whether it's an actress being stabbed to death in the middle of a scene after the killer is mistaken for her co-star, a high octane Die Hard-esque action sequence in the rafters, or an out-of-the-blue gore effect that matches nothing else that came before, the sense of "what the holy hell am I looking at?" rarely abates.

Although the actual construction of the special makeup effects are pretty standard fare, the filmmakers mix them up in creative and unique ways, manufacturing a lively and consistently engaging gorescape.

I bet when you clicked on this article, you were thinking "I hope he describes this film like he's on the Food Network." You're welcome.

On top of the thrills and spills, StageFright: Aquarius is imbued with the stylish brio that only the Italians could bring to the genre. Arranging a clash between stagebound theatrics and the gruesome reality intruding upon the players, scenes are arranged in messy tableaux of gore and pandemonium. Real blood drips onto spilled stage blood, merging with it beneath a burst of feathers that flit through the air like a blizzard. 

By the end, the set looks like the aftermath of a pillow fight at Andy Warhol's house.

The film slams the audience with jarring overhead shots, creepy mannequins, and extreme eyeball close-ups in a deliciously unpredictable rhythm. And all of this is interspersed with the lively banter of two cops who are obliviously standing watch outside. It's a real doozy.

It's been so long since I've sat through a film that's just so tremendously fun, so I highly recommend StageFright to any slasher fan, veteran or neophyte. Heck, I recommend it to any movie fan, as long as they can stomach some good 80's grue.

And some FANTASTIC dancing.

Now, a caveat. This film isn't perfect. Shocking, I know. But to fully appreciate the vivacity and color of StageFright: Aquarius, one must be subjected to its truly horrendous electric guitar score. Let me paint you a picture. The lead singer of Flock of Seagulls sits down in his dressing room and pops the needle onto his StageFright soundtrack record. After some thoughtful contemplation while he sips his New Coke, he blows his bleached tip out of his eyes and unplugs the machine. "Too much synth," he says.

The music ineffably lends almost exactly the wrong tone to every scene in which it lurks. Whether it's a tense search for a missing key or a POV shot zooming through backstage, the score lends operatic overture and shrill, Mockingjay-esque whistling in precisely the wrong amounts. At times, the zany energy of the music catches up to the presented visuals in a galvanizing way, but these moments are few and far between.

We're also saddled with a final scene that needlessly extends the run time and makes a half-baked stab at a "killer is still alive" scare that slightly deflates the power of the whole affair.

But while those flaws might be fatal to a lesser movie, StageFright: Aquarius is still more than worth your time. If you make a point to watch just one obscure 80's slasher movie from my frighteningly long list, do yourself a favor and let it be this one.

Killer: Irving Wallace (Clain Parker)
Final Girl: Alicia (Barbara Cupisti)
Best Kill: Peter's arm is cut off with a chainsaw which then runs out of gas, at which point the killer decapitates him with an axe. Deliciously brutal.
Sign of the Times: Oh sweet Debbie Harry, please spare me.

Scariest Moment: Alicia struggles to get a key out from between the floorboards while the killer sleeps.
Weirdest Moment: The film ends on a shot of a Marilyn Monroe lookalike playing the saxophone.
Champion Dialogue: "She's a perfect example of the method, she really feels her parts."
Body Count: 10

1. Orderly is stabbed in the neck with a hypodermic needle.
2. Betty is pickaxed in the mouth.
3. Corinne is stabbed to death.
4. Mr. Ferrari is stabbed to death.
5. Mark is drilled through the stomach.
6. Brett is axed in the chest.
7. Sybil is cut in half.
8. Danny is chainsawed in half.
9. Peter is decapitated with an axe.
10. Laurel is stabbed in the gut. 

TL;DR: StageFright: Aquarius is bogged down by some truly dreadful musical decisions and an unnecessary ending, but it's one of the most electrifying and exciting entries in the late 80's slasher genre.
Rating: 8/10
Word Count: 1548