GATTI ROSSSI UN LABIRINTO DI VETRO/THE SECRET KILLER/1974 Spain-Italy
This review is based on the R2 Marketing Films DVD: THE SECRET KILLER, which is letterboxed at 2.35: 1.
Released in the US in 1977 by Joseph Bernner Associates Inc. as EYEBALL and in 1985 on video by PRISM ENTERTAIMENT. I have the original pre-record, which is
hideously cropped at 1.33:1, losing half of the original 2.35:1 framing. The garish artwork on the box is a rather ugly collage featurning slashed, bloody eyes
on an off-grey background with lots of pins or nails sticking out.
The lurid copy on the back of the video box is better than the film contained within: "A TALE OF BLINDING HORROR...A BLOOD CURDLING FILM...Beautiful young
women are stabbed and one by one their eyes are plucked out...In a bloody finale, the secret of the eyeball-killer is revealed."
A Joseph Brenner Jose M Cunilles Italian-Spanish co-production shot mostly on Barcelona and Cataluna locations. The gimmick is that all the famous locations of
Spain's "second city" are used as staging areas for murders by a killer with a red glove, instead of the usual black, and wearing a rain slicker
of the same color (cf DON'T LOOK NOW). The "red cat" of the original title gouges oout the eyes of the victims before stabbing them to death. All
the victims are either members of a group of American tourists or those in the vicinity of the party. All the travellers are considered suspects by the local
Spanish police, especially an advertising executive (John Richardson) on the run from his violent wife.
Director Umberto Lenzi attempts to alter the formula of the standard giallo by changing superficial aspects like the color of the killer's wardrobe (black
was firmly established in 1964's BLOOD AND BLACK LACE) and the motive for the crime. But the fact that the motive (the killer's own eyeball was ripped
during a childhood incident of playing "Doctor") is so laughably implausible and the exclusive casting of prominent European supporting players as
Americans makes this unintentionally entertaining, at least to me. I had to laugh out loud at Sylvia Solar cast as a Vermont matron, Jorge Rigaud as a kindly
New England priest, Martine Brochard as a typical secretary from Burlington! To remind us that they are Americans, one of the characters even wears a very
loud shirt designed after the US flag! Then they are all dubbed with various "American" accents which sound nothing like authentic New Englanders.
Umberto Lenzi is not a subtle director, but he is often capable of making briskly paced entertainments. He is unable to fully exploit the colorful Barcelona
locations and it's obvious that the project was designed around the concept of having the murders happen in such well known sites as the city's
"ramblas", the Hotel Presidente, the elevated amusement park and the medieval Castile. All photogenic sites, but Lenzi and DP Antoino Millan
can't nail them. Except for the funhouse sequence the lighting is flat and unimaginatieve and there are as many zoom shots as in a Jess Franco film, but
not used in the compellingly personal way Franco uses the device, it just seems rather lazy. It appears that the large, and ever dwindling, cast were rushed
from location to location for a quick set up and then moved on. There are plenty of blood squibs on display and the energetic Bruno Nicolai score keeps it
afloat for a while, but is ultimately as repetitive as the film itself.
Only Inez Pellegrini, as a desperate lesbian whose lover (Spanish horror queen Mirta Miller) is a victim, does outstanding acting work. Everyone else seems to
playing it by the numbers. Richardson and Marta May, as the prime suspects, could have created characters which held this all together, but they are both
totally wooden here and just mouth the risible dialogue while appearing slightly anxious to be out of there. Obviously they were given next to nothing to work
with in terms of scripting and no direction.
This seems to have been made from a treatment rather than a developed screenplay and no one, especially the director (who is listed as co-author) seems to have
the interest or time to do anything smart or special. Too bad, it probably could have been a good gaillo-thriller (and Lenzi made a few outstanding ones)
instead of the mess that it is. It is, at times, amusing as one of Lenzi's strenuous exercises in European Trash Cinema.
(c) Robert Monell, 2008




