I usually have a lot of time for cheesy mid-1970's Euro-thrillers, but this one was a very poor effort. It involves a string of murders and the usual red herrings and sleaze, but the presentation is amateurish and without any atmosphere at all.The film begins with a suicide leap from the Eiffel Tower. We cannot see who jumps, but it's only 2-3 minutes into the film and we already have Terrible Special Effect Number One: the suicide leap is depicted by means of a cartoon black silhouette of a man superimposed over a still image of the tower...my jaw dropped. The plot switches to a brothel where the madam (a rather hefty looking Anita Ekberg with a massive hairdo) and her girls are entertaining some rich clients. A less rich and more troublesome customer called Antoine gatecrashes the party and asks for his favourite girl. After some sexy embracing during which time he lavishes stolen jewelry on her, the atmosphere turns sour when she tries to leave the bedroom. Some slapping follows, and Antoine overacts wildly, while attempting to keep his todger covered at all times (failing at least one, which is quite amusing). He eventually flees the brothel, and when the staff come to investigate they find the girl has been murdered.Things go into a decline from here on as some dull police inspectors investigate the murder, and chase after Antoine. Watch out for Terrible Special Effect Number Two as Antoine is shown escaping on a motorbike. In close ups of his face its obvious that he's not even moving and is being filmed in front of plain white and plain black (?) backgrounds instead of the supposed leafy countryside. And wait for a real laugh-out-loud moment with Terrible Special Effect Number Three: a truly lame decapitation.The film plods on, trying to spin a web of mystery and shock. There are more murders. They aren't interesting in the slightest and they are certainly not "sex murders" as suggested by the film's title. At one point a doctor is shown dissecting a human eye. This is depicted by terrible Special Effect Number Four: the use of a bloodied-up sheep's eye which is mauled apart by some amateur stage hand with what seems to be a very blunt scalpel, resulting in bits of goo and gristle getting squished all over the plate it is resting on...some fine medical handiwork there! The acting is uniformly bad, and of course the dubbing is terrible...truly awful. Try this sample English dialogue from a scene in which Antoine is captured: "No I didn't kill her. Are you mad? I'm not guilty! You'll find out I'm not guilty! No I'm not the murderer! You won't believe I didn't commit it!" It's like listening to a rabid Yoda! Especially when he snarls: "From the grave I'll come back!" Was this really the best they could do? Most pointless of all is that the police investigation is presided over by a Humphrey Bogart look-alike, complete with slicked back hair, long raincoats, the lot. There's no explanation for why he's dressed up as a clone of Bogart and it makes no contribution to any part of the film's plot. I sat through the whole thing waiting for it to get better, but it never did. Of course there's a big revelation at the end but it's not much of a pay off for the preceding 90 minutes. The only diversions from the tedium are the very 1970's feel (everybody smokes!), and some groovy music and lots of attractive actresses, but very little else. Do yourself a favour and avoid this one.

1972's "The French Sex Murders" was my first experience with a picture produced by old-school impresario Dick Randall, whose filmography is as unique as the man himself, and who was living in Italy at the time to escape tax-evasion charges in the U.S. The film demonstrates that you don't need a huge budget and top-notch production values to create a giallo, as long as you have an incredible cast to help put things over. In the film, small-time Parisian thief Antoine is arrested for the murder of a cathouse prostitute, but after he is decapitated in a freak accident, and the murders continue, police Inspector Pontaine realizes that he must move tres vite before the bodies really start to pile up! The picture, though it looks fine, does betray its limited budget, has been terribly dubbed and reserves most of its requisite nudity and bloodshed for the latter half. That remarkable cast referred to up top includes a quartet of the top Eurobabes of the day: Barbara Bouchet (who I've never seen look more beautiful and who is, sadly, the picture's first victim), Rosalba Neri (playing the ex-wife of the accused killer), Evelyn Kraft (who I'd never encountered before but look forward to seeing again) and Anita Ekberg (a decade or more past her prime but still quite sexy as the bordello's madam). And let's not forget Howard "Dr. Orloff" Vernon, as a scientist who performs some gross-out experiments on the eyeballs of Antoine's severed head (don't ask!), AND Robert Sacchi as the Inspector. This Bogeyphile must admit that it really is remarkable how much Sacchi looks like Humphrey Bogart and is able to ape his mannerisms; his (Bogey's) seeming presence in a sleazy giallo is perhaps the film's greatest asset and claim to uniqueness. In all, a far-from-top-drawer giallo, but still an entertaining 90 minutes, nicely supplemented on this Mondo Macabro DVD by a 1/2-hour documentary on Randall himself and many other interesting extras.

Here's an interesting film to watch on those late nights when you can't find anything else, and you're in the mood for that old misogynistic sleaze that used to mark Italian films of the early 70's. The plot is a bit convoluted, but here goes.When Francine (Bouchet), a prostitute, is knocked off, the main suspect, a guy named Gavalles, is sought by the police. He was one of the regular clients of the whorehouse where Francine worked, but he seeks refuge from the law, as he claims he didn't commit the crime. However, during a chase, he is decapited as his motor-bike collides into the back of a tractor-trailer.The police think that's the end of the murderer, but soon another prostitute is killed. Inspector Fontaine is put on the case, and as he begins probing around, he finds several suspicious individuals who knew the deceased women. One of these suspects is a journalist; another is a famous doctor named Waldemar; another is a criminal magistrate who was intent on convicting Gavalles for the first murder. And finally, there is Madame Colette (Anita Ekberg), the proprietor of aforesaid whorehouse. Now comes the task of figuring out the identity of the killer. And as Fontaine gets deeper into the case, the killer strikes again and again.Here's a modest giallo outing, obviously made to "cash in" on the then prolific market of horror thrillers. The general mood is seedy and low-key, and the cheap sets decorated with phony Rennaisance art are a lame attempt at adding sophistication to a hastily made film. Howard Vernon here steals the show as Waldemar, who investigates the eyeballs taken from Gavalles' corpse, mashing them to a pulp with his scalpel, as if he were to looking for peals. Nevertheless, it's good fun.Professional Humphrey Bogart look-alike Robert Sacchi plays the detective. He gives a decent performance, but doesn't live up to his mentor's standards. Actually, the film gives him very little opportunity to act, as the number of characters and constant plot twists keep him at a deadpan level. We never even get a close shot of his face. The murders are violent, but there is little bloodshed. The sound effects are rather odd; when one of the girls is murdered, it sounds as if someone is clashing cymbals. The main show here comes at the end, when we think the killer's identity has at last been discovered. However, we're in for a few surprises; and that's what makes this film worth watching, apart from seeing Barbara Bouchet and Anita Ekberg.Director Merighi was none too prolific, and he remains a minor figure in the pantheon of Italian cult cinema. He made his debut in 1957 with the melodramatic crime film "The Sun Will Return" (Il Sole Tornera'), which starred future director Roberto Mauri. He is also known for directing the 1972 spaghetti western, "They Called Him Trinity."

SPOILERS INCLUDED A masterpiece of the 70's European horror film, Bogeyman and the French Murders sadly remains a rarely screened film, doubly odd given that it has enough style, stars and strangeness to be the epitome of that era. Co-producers Dick Randall and Marius Mattei assembled some of Eurosleaze's most famous faces, Anita Ekberg, Rosalba Neri, and Howard Vernon, or The Killer Nun, Lady Frankenstein and Dr Orlof respectively in what could have been called Humphrey Bogart Fights Back From the Grave. Welcome to the world of Antoine Gottvalles, a lovesick minor jewel thief who we first meet looting a Paris bank. Escaping with a handful of jewels, he heads over to the brothel of Madame Colette in an attempt to lure his girlfriend, a prostitute (Goliathon's Evelyn Kraft) out of a life of vice. When Kraft doesn't want anything to do with him or his err... jewels a butt naked Antoine goes berserk `you are nothing but a broad.. a bloody whore'. Later when the tart without a heart is found with her faced bashed in, the police are called to investigate, bringing unwanted attention to Madame Collette and no surprise since her whorehouse is swinging with Parisian perverts who dress in psychedelic Satanic robes and sex kittens in heat. But wait, in all the towns in all the bars who should be investigating the French murders than an Inspector who acts, looks and dresses like Humphrey Bogart! All the fingers of guilt point to quick tempered Antoine and after a keystone cops chase that has to be seen to be disbelieved Antoine is caught by Paris's finest and sentenced to death (by the guillotine!) but vows to his former friends `from the grave I'll come back'. Later Antoine escapes and is chased around until his motor-cycle runs head on with a pane of glass that lops his head off, but director FL Morris isn't finished with us yet and much to the amazement of the all star cast and `Inspector Bogart' the French Murders continue with the black gloved killer (who keeps a pair of eyeballs in his pocket) disposing of those involved in Antoine's trail. Soon heads are severed with swords, throats are cut and corpses appear with their eyeballs missing. The late Vernon turns up as Doctor Waldemar who requests to experiment on Antoine's severed head! only to end up frantically dissecting Antoine's eyeballs after his assistant reports them moving! Hard as this maybe to swallow Bogeyman was announced as an adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's The Evil Eye, surprising as no such book appears to exist. Still Bogeyman contains one feature noticeably absent from any Poe film treatment, the incredible Robert Sacchi a Bronx born actor whose resemblance to Bogart has to be one of the most spookiest things committed to celluloid, not even Madame Tussards could have come up with a more uncanny likeness. It was certainly enough to earn him the nickname `The Man With Bogart's Face' he even played the title role in a 1980 movie of the same name, but Randall and Mattei were the first to really milk the Bogart comparisons for all their worth. Some may have actually believed the Hollywood star was alive and well and appearing in Euro exploitation movies. Even the plodding detective angle, usually the stepping stone of lesser known giallo into boredom is given a kick by the absurdity of Sacchi's `L'Homme Au Visage de Bogart', less a character than a living breathing film homage lost in a world of psychedelia, bell bottoms and the fleshpots of Pigalle. For a film that captures a time and place in all its kitsch glory, what is amazing is that Bogeyman isn't even a French film, stock shots were later added (by Eurocine) to give the film a Paris by night feel, no easy feat for a movie that begins and ends on the Effel tower. Bogeyman's set must have been an exciting place to be on, not just for the bouncing severed heads, a host of international actresses with their clothes off and a Bogart impersonator but the collection of people behind the camera. The grisly effects were by an uncredited Carlo Rambaldi, the haunting music courtesy of Bruno Nicolai, plus years before he gave the world Women's Camp 117 or Zombie Creeping Flesh, Bruno Mattei's name can be found lurking in the editing credits as well. Bogeyman has a unique utterly mad hallucinatory quality, it forces you to except a world that is unreal. Why is Sacchi's inspector modelled on Humphrey Bogart!, Why is the entire courtroom scene shown in negative! Why would anyone want to operate on a severed head!- just sit back and enjoy the many moments where you wonder if the filmmakers had completely lost any touch with reality. Bogeyman is crazy in a way that all of Dick Randall's Italian productions tend to be, but its also one of his finest post Wild, Wild World of Jayne Mansfield creations. Much like Lady Frankenstein and Frankenstein's Castle of Freaks Randall's influence seems to dominant the proceedings, no doubt because he also wrote the story under his Robert H Oliver pseudonym and cameo's in the film as a fez wearing Egyptian. Largely forgotten in the Randall back catalogue somewhere between The Wild Wild World of Jayne Mansfield and Pieces, Bogeyman merits the energy it takes to track down. For many seeing one of the stars of Slaughter Hotel badly lip-synching to a gloomy song in a Pigalle club will be enough of a recommendation, but Bogeyman shouldn't also be missed by fans of sexy Italian actresses, giallos, stock footage of the Effel Tower, gratuitous sex and violence or Humphrey Bogart!!!