Thank goodness for film historians and geeks. I now enter the third phase of a journey taken by many Gen X and millennial slasher fans. After exhausting the postmodern catalog (December 1996-present) and the golden age (1978-November 1996), I embark on the proto-slasher period (1978 and prior).
This was when filmmakers used many slasher techniques but didn’t know they were making a slasher film, as the term was coined for 1978’s “Halloween.” The dominant type of proto-slasher is giallo, Italian for yellow.
These films were often shot with a mix of English and non-English speakers, intended from the outset to be dubbed into English. Almost always, I will select subtitles over dubbing, but giallo is the exception because the style is baked in.
“The Bird with the Crystal Plumage” (1970)
Director: Dario Argento
Writers: Dario Argento (screenplay), Fredric Brown (novel)
Stars: Tony Musante, Suzy Kendall, Enrico Maria Salerno
These films have slasher-style kills but – while the murders are fittingly gory and excessive, and often target beautiful young women — they are not the No. 1 reason for the film’s existence, as with pure slashers. Other elements (criminal plot, mystery, psychology) take the fore. Proto-slashers tend to have longer gaps between killings, which might be an issue for fans of pure slashers.
A film found on every giallo list is “The Bird with the Crystal Plumage” (1970), the directorial debut of Dario Argento, who went on to the masterpiece “Suspiria” (1977). An American on a long vacation in Rome (Tony Musante’s Sam) witnesses an attempted murder, and because he’s a key witness, Inspector Morosini (Enrico Maria Salerno) keeps him in town. Not a problem, because Sam wants to solve it anyway.
To Rome with the camera’s love
It’s a pure pleasure to be taken by cinematographer Vittorio Storaro, who has shot the five latest Woody Allen films (all gorgeous), through Rome. Sam and wife Julia (Suzy Kendall) are chased through dark streets by an assassin in a car. A painter whose work might unlock the case lives in an entirely boarded-up building, accessible only by a ladder to a second-story window.
Later, a man falls from a high story, with the camera doing the fall. Then, in a reverse, a stunning crane shot moves from Sam – wandering through the streets looking for Julia – into the sky, giving us a wide shot of Rome.
The weird architecture is another delight, highlighted by Sam’s and Julia’s loft apartment, the only one in an otherwise empty building, soon to be condemned.
The sometimes blunt clunkiness of the writing borders on being a perk rather than a bug. Notably, Morosini keeps pressuring Sam to relive the attempted murder he saw when looking into the plate glass window of the art gallery, even though what he saw was straightforward: a man in a trenchcoat attacking a woman (Eva Renzi’s Monica). This is a bizarre investigative tactic. It’s more likely Morosini would be fine with Sam’s thorough statement and spend his time working with Monica – who quickly recovers from a knife slash — to ID the attacker.
“Bird” includes several behaviors treated as normal that we in the real world recognize as weird. Notably, Sam and Julia inexplicably start making out while their friend is visiting. Sam goes with the flow throughout the case, flaring up only for a moment when Morosini takes his passport, and showing no outward concern when it appears Julia has been kidnapped by the killer. He casually walks through back alleys, smoking and asking bystanders if they have seen his wife – quite a contrast from Donald Sutherland in “Don’t Look Now” three years later.
Can you solve it?
The mystery genre is a forebearer of slashers – and, indeed, some slashers are mysteries, although it’s not required. “Bird” is a mystery via vibe more so than via clues. Basically: One of the characters is the serial killer, but which one is it? “Bird” has one of those “under your nose all along” answers, but it’s satisfying and plausible.
The film’s most incongruous element is pitch-black comedy, especially notable when Sam learns the painter keeps cats for reasons other than companionship. I feel “Bird” would’ve been equally good, maybe better, without the comedy, although I appreciate the gall of the broad reach for a grand title: It refers to a rare bird heard in the background of one of the killer’s phone calls.
Some scholars trace the origin of slashers back to “Psycho” (1960), and “Bird” heavily plays its Bates-ian hand in the summation, wherein an expert explains the psychological motivations of the killer.
(SPOILER WARNING.)
One confusing surprise in the summation is that Monica and husband Alberto (Umberto Raho) split duties as the serial killer, both for reasons of insanity. A cleaner, more plausible explanation would be that Monica was the insane killer and Alberto was driven by love to try to stop her and – failing that – try to keep her from getting caught. Did the filmmakers feel viewers of the time wouldn’t buy a solo female serial killer? There’s no moment where two killings overlap, so the plot does not necessitate two killers.
(END OF SPOILERS.)
If I was told by film historians that “Bird with the Crystal Plumage” is trash, would I have the same appreciation for it? I like to think I could see past the clunkiness on my own and accept that I’m drawn into the vibe and mystery, and that’s worth something. Still, an open mind is advised for modern viewers when entering the gallery of giallo. You’ll be rewarded partially with knowledge of a genre’s development, but also with many elements you look for in “Halloween” and thereafter.