Murder Obsession (1981): Late-Period Meta-Giallo With Some Unforgettable Set-Pieces (Review)

In terms of titles that encapsulate the appeal of a whole genre, there aren’t many competitors, are there? You have the murder, you have the obsession, and every giallo must feature both, but only one of them is called Murder Obsession. Riccardo Freda’s final film, reissued on Blu-Ray by Radiance Films (through the Raro Video imprint), isn’t as perfect as its no-bones title, but neither is it “s**t”, as Freda claimed. It’s a late entry into the classic giallo cycle, one which has its longeurs but also takes advantage of a new self-reflexivity in the genre, much as Dario Argento’s Tenebre did one year later. It’s the story of Michael Stanford – a giallo actor with a history of violent episodes who’s afraid that his darker self might be behind a string of murders.

Freda immediately grasps the potential of this self-reflexive plot, opening with an outrageously tasteless and sexualised murder sequence. Don’t worry as it’s just Michael acting in one of his films, although his co-star expresses concern that he seemed … let’s say a little too method. We quickly move to the obligatory childhood flashback, one which sets up an incredibly Oedipal relationship with Michael’s mother Glenda, who’s played by Anita Strindberg – one of many familiar faces for connoisseurs of 1970s and 1980s Italian exploitation films. Silvia Dionisio, Ruggero Deodato’s wife and frequent lead actress, turns up as Michael’s girlfriend, while a supporting role is filled by Black Emannuelle herself, Laura Gemser.

Murder Obsession was not just Freda’s final film as Strindberg left cinema after completing her role, and Dionisio only has a few credits afterwards (including a liquor commercial directed by Federico Fellini), which may be attributable to the unpleasant time many had on set. Stefano Patrizi, who gives a very good performance as Michael, recalls his director as being bad-tempered on set, and a chainsaw murder sequence nearly turned into the real thing. As the director Gabriele Albanesi notes in a filmed appreciation in the disc’s extras, Freda never quite adjusted to the decline of the traditional Italian gothic horror that he pioneered with 1957’s I Vampiri. Despite directing cult films like The Horrible Dr. Hichcock [sic], he never enjoyed working on the more explicit horror films that became fashionable in the 1970s, and indeed nearly sat the entire decade out, with Murder Obsession being his first film in nine years.

It’s hard to imagine Freda was keeping track of developments in the giallo genre during his absence, but he nevertheless chose to return to the genre at the exact right moment.

It’s hard to imagine Freda was keeping track of developments in the giallo genre during his absence, but he nevertheless chose to return to the genre at the exact right moment. Had Murder Obsession come out ten years earlier it might have looked disdainful, with its plot offering implicit moral judgment on an industry that allows a real-life killer to play imaginary killers. The dream sequence too, might have looked excessive in a bad way, eschewing the visceral nightmare imagery of an Argento or a Fulci in favour of giant spiders and green slime. By 1981, a new generation of giallo technicians had come up who were pushing against the genre’s boundaries, and revelled in the fact that these movies had strayed such a distance from their murder-mystery roots.

Murder Obsession has special effects by Sergio Stivaletti, who went on to work on The Church, Cemetery Man and most of Argento’s late-period films. The effects in Murder Obsession are definitely hampered by a low budget, and perhaps Freda’s indifference as well (there are several scenes where supposedly dead bodies are clearly breathing), but Stivaletti understands that people don’t talk excitedly about photorealism on their way out of the cinema – they talk about outrageousness, and that’s exactly what he delivers. For all Murder Obsession‘s semi-coherent plot and draggy moments, it absolutely comes through in scenes like that much-discussed, slime-spewing, spider-scuttling dream sequence, a scene which has conferred a kind of immortality on Freda’s swansong.

As evidence, here’s a typically comprehensive Radiance Films extras package. The deleted scene turns out to be twenty seconds more anguished thrashing about during a murder scene, but there’s nothing disappointing about the rest. Aside from the insightful interviews with Stivaletti and Albanesi mentioned above, there’s an interview with the film’s composer – Goblin legend Claudio Simonetti, a full-length commentary by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas and more.

Murder Obsession is out now on Raro Video Blu-Ray via Radiance Films

Graham’s Archive – Murder Obsession (1981)

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