A Quiet Place in the Country (1969) A Haunted House for the Sexual Counter-Culture Age

When the hustle and bustle of urban life gets too much, don’t you just want to head out to the countryside for a bit of peace and quiet?

Leonardo – played by Italian screen icon and original Django, Franco Nero – certainly seems to feel that way; the constant noise and perpetual pressure of inner-city living has put a strain on his work as a painter, his mind at the point of breaking, his dreams full of violent psycho-sexual imagery. An impromptu excursion to the country leads the tortured artist to stumble across what could be the solution to all his problems – a remote, crumbling villa, up for sale without any other potential buyers. Of course, there’s always a catch – upon moving into the building with his wife, Flavia (legendary Oscar-winning actress, Vanessa Redgrave), Leonardo quickly comes to learn that his dream home has a bloody history of death and destruction – one which might be about to repeat itself with its new owners; but is there anything supernatural afoot, or has the painter’s mind simply cracked under pressure?

In no way connected to the similarly-titled John Krasinski-helmed 2010s horror franchise, A Quiet Place in the Country (1969) is the latest title brought back from the dead by Radiance Films from the filmography of under-appreciated Italian filmmaker Elio Petri; though Petri might not be a household name among cinephiles alongside the likes of Antonioni and Fellini, it’s clear that Radiance are trying with all their might to change that, with A Quiet Place in the Country being the fourth title in their catalogue from the director, following The Working Class Goes to Heaven (1971), The Assassin (1961), and We Still Kill the Old Way (1967). Though not an example of the “giallo” subgenre that was popular in Italy at the time, A Quiet Place in the Country was nonetheless a rare venture into the horror genre for Petri, a psychologically-driven haunted-house tale occupied to the brim with murder and madness.

Though The Devils (1971) star Redgrave features less than the film’s posters would have you believe (though she still plays a very important role), fans of Franco Nero will decidedly not be disappointed; the original Django is well-and-truly unchained in this neurotic, impulsive turn, with Nero bringing both empathy and mania to the role in equal spades. The film itself has a perpetual edge of the manic, with Petri’s stylistically singular approach to direction, and his frequent collaborator Ruggero Mastroianni’s experimental editing, really helping to convey the sense of Leonardo’s fractured mental state and often unreliable perspective on events.

One of the things which makes A Quiet Place in the Country so fascinating as a piece of cinema is that, whilst it plays into (and with) the codes and conventions of the Italian gothic, it’s also undeniably a thoroughly contemporary – and counter-cultural – work. Even without its playful, pop-art stylistic leanings, Petri’s film is a ghost story for the permissive age, one just as concerned with taboo sexuality and late-60s art scene social dynamics as it is with the dark shadows of the past. Sex and psychosis are tightly intertwined here, as in many of the European horror-thrillers of its era, but even then, A Quiet Place in the Country’s contemporaries (bar the works of Jess Franco) were rarely as overtly perverse and brimming with vicious horniness as this film is. It’s a welcome, pleasing touch, with the elements of perversion only helping to highlight the struggling Leonardo’s frustration, sexual and otherwise – highlighted brilliantly by the film’s depiction of a surreal BDSM scene in its striking opening sequence.

Some could, whilst watching, come to believe that Petri’s depiction of gender and sexual politics here is dated – Nero spends most of the film being either literally or figuratively being tormented by the female form, the film’s central supernatural force being revealed early on to be the ghost of a promiscuous 15-year-old girl (yes, really). A modern-day viewer may shuffle uncomfortably in their seat at several moments throughout the course of A Quiet Place in the Country – a film which frequently switches from the erotic to the outright unethical – and perhaps some will wonder why a filmmaker as socio-politically conscious as Elio Petri would make a film from a perspective as unsettling and morally dubious as this. Of course, by the end, you’ll realise that all of this was part and parcel of how A Quiet Place in the Country plays with perspective – and perhaps you too will start to doubt if seeing is believing. Petri has no interest in merely flirting with the sexual counter-culture of the decade – he’s ready to get out his surgical tools and dig deep into the collective warped mind of the post-war generation. Some might call it messy, and to that I respond – did you really think cultural brain surgery would end without you getting a little blood on your overalls?

As is typical for Radiance by now, the picture and audio quality on their release of A Quiet Place in the Country is superb – the HD transfer used retains just the right amount of grunge to match the sauce and sleaze of the film’s central mystery, whilst perfectly showing off Deep Red (1975) cinematographer Luigi Kuveiller’s creative photography. When it comes to audio, this Blu-Ray contains the option to watch the film with either an English or Italian soundtrack – whichever one you choose, you’ll still get to experience the film’s haunting score, composed by the late, great Ennio Morricone, which sounds better than ever (alongside the crisp, clear dialogue) on this new release, which is undoubtedly now the definitive edition of Petri’s under-seen chiller. Extras include a brand-new interview on the film with the ever-insightful Stephen Thrower (author of “Nightmare USA” for FAB Press), as well as select-scene commentary on the film’s explorations of gender and masculinity with Orchestrator of Storms (2022) director Kat Ellinger. It’s a wonderful new release of a forgotten gem that any fan of Italian horror will be happy to have haunt their home for Halloween and beyond.

Robyn’s Archive – A Quiet Place in the Country