Dario Argento’s giallo films are starting to become like tasty snacks three entries in – good for energy, not necessarily nutrition. After “The Bird with the Crystal Plumage” (1970) and “Cat o’ Nine Tails” (1971), the thematic “animal trilogy” caps with “Four Flies on Grey Velvet” (1971). Again we have an Everyman roped into a mystery – where he’s also targeted – along with POV shots of the unknown killer, threatening phone calls from a raspy voice, and a bizarre explanation based on psychological damage.
Roberto drums away at this mystery
And we get tasty atmospherics of well-worn urban Italy (Turin is the shooting location) and 1970s interiors. The abode of protagonist drummer Roberto (Michael Brandon) comfortingly resembles the “Brady Bunch” home. He’s like David Hemmings in the next Argento film, the more fashionable-to-like “Deep Red”: a musician who passively moseys through most of the narrative.
I think Roberto is a better character, though. The way he drums in the opening segment, making sure to not smash the fly between his symbols, suggests he wouldn’t hurt a fly – Argento’s by-now ubiquitous wink at “Psycho.” In the hooky kick-off to the mystery, Roberto seemingly kills someone in a scuffle, but the circumstances are suspicious: We wonder if he’s been set up to kill the guy. Maybe the fellow isn’t even dead.
“Four Flies on Grey Velvet” (1971)
Director: Dario Argento
Writers: Dario Argento (screenplay, story); Luigi Cozzi, Mario Foglietti (story)
Stars: Michael Brandon, Mimsy Farmer, Jean-Pierre Marielle
“Four Flies” is a compelling mystery with another “right under my nose” solution that I missed; I’m starting to think Argento would’ve done well on “Fool Us” if that magic-challenge show was around back in the day.
Not quite as grisly as other entries, “Four Flies” nonetheless features achievements like an early split-screen shot, the intriguing notion that the last thing a victim sees is burned onto her retina, a slow-mo car-crash, and an incongruously (yet purposefully) hilarious walk-through of a trade show for coffins. Roberto and his allies surmise this is a safe place to talk without being overheard.
Roberto has a recurring nightmare about a beheading after hearing that executions are still carried out in Saudi Arabia. Yet the mystery comes to the fore more so than the violence in “Four Flies.” When one victim – a blackmailer of the blackmailer (!) – is trapped in a locked-up park with the killer, we don’t see the violence; we only have the POV of people outside the high wall hearing the screams.
Know your roles
Although I’m never bored by the sameness of Argento’s films – similar to my experience watching Hitchcock’s tropes continually play out – I must look for something that defines “Four Flies.” Arguably, gender roles is the answer.
Roberto hires a private detective, Arrosio (Jean-Pierre Marielle), whom he immediately recognizes is gay. If you want the stereotypes tidily contained in a nutshell, here they are, including the voice and the limp wrists. Still, Arrosio has an unusually full, if amusing, arc for a supporting character in an Argento film: He has never actually solved a case, but he’s determined that this will be his first success.
Not so clear is the story of the villain.
(SPOILERS FOLLOW.)
The killer – and instigator of this whole bizarre plot – turns out to be Roberto’s wife, Nina (Mimsy Farmer). One of the conveniences of giallo is that the killer’s actions can be explained by “they’re crazy,” and so “Four Flies” snaps into place if you don’t think too hard about it.
In her summation, Nina explains the roots of her special brand of insanity: Her father raised her like a boy and also beat her for being a girl. It’s like “Four Flies” goes halfway toward “Sleepaway Camp,” but since Nina is clearly a woman, and indeed she managed to get into a normal marriage, it doesn’t pack as much punch as that later slasher gem.
(END OF SPOILERS.)
Lost in translation, and found
Although “Four Flies” isn’t considered top-shelf Argento, I liked it just as much as the more heralded “Crystal Plumage” and “Deep Red.” Even if you find it merely OK, we should be happy we can watch the film at all. It was thought to be lost between 1992 and 2009, a wild fate for a modern film by a well-regarded director.
The version I found on Plex isn’t restored as well as other Argentos of the period, lapsing into a grainy print for handfuls of frames here and there. Some dialog remains in Italian, rather than being dubbed, and 30-40 seconds are indeed lost, thanks to print damage. These flaws didn’t take me out of the picture, although I wonder if some of that Italian dialog explains what’s otherwise unexplained. I guess “Four Flies on Grey Velvet” is a mystery that keeps on giving.