Your Vice Is A Locked Room And Only I Have The Key (1972)
Dir. Sergio Martino
Written by Adriano Bolzoni, Ernesto Gastaldi, Sauro Scavolini,
loosely ripped off The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe
Starring Anita Strindberg, Luigi Pistlili, Edwige Fenech
As you know, I usually stick to period-accurate posters here, but I love this Arrow Video blue-ray cover too much to hide it from you. |
YOUR VICE IS A LOCKED ROOM AND ONLY I HAVE THE KEY (or,
YVIALRAOIHTK, as it’s affectionately known around these parts) has one major
thing going for it, and you already know what it is. The best title of
any work of art, ever, of any medium, any genre, any era.* You agree on that, I
agree on that, let’s move on. But what does it mean, you ask? Wrong
question to ask of an Italian movie. The answer is just that it’s a line from
THE STRANGE VICE OF MRS. WHARDH (aka BLADE OF THE RIPPER), a 1971 giallo from
the same director, one Sergio Martino (TORSO, ISLAND OF THE FISHMEN). What does
that have to do with anything? Again, wrong question. The answer is
nothing. What’s the right question? Wrong question again. There is no
right question. The right thing to do is not to ask questions, and just
acknowledge that it’s Italy and go with it.
What you’ll be going with in YVISLRAOIHTK’s case is something of a
chimera; part giallo, part Edgar Allan Poe adaptation (particularly of his 1843
short story The Black Cat), part Postman Always Rings Twice erotic
noir, and part freewheeling softcore romp. While mixing violence, gothic
horror, crime fiction and lurid sex is so common it might as well just be
called “Italian cinema,” YVISLRAOIHTK stratifies those impulses apart from each
other to a distressing degree, resulting in a rigidly segmented narrative
structure that almost feels more like an anthology film than a cohesive story.
It’s a bit of an awkward beast, and there are definitely parts which are pretty
tedious and plodding, but I gotta admit: the big reveal, when it finally
arrives, is surprisingly strong, boasting a cornucopia of pulpy noir twists
welded gracelessly --but effectively-- to Poe’s misanthropic poetry of misery.
And giallo mainstay Edwige Fenech (STRIP NUDE FOR YOUR KILLER**, PHANTOM OF
DEATH) is constitutionally incapable of keeping her clothes on, so once she
shows up you’re unlikely to be too bored.
Yeah, you see what I mean. |
She doesn’t show up for a surprisingly long time, though,
considering she gets top billing. The story is mainly concerned with Irina
Rouvigny (Anita Strindberg, Fulci’s LIZARD IN A WOMAN’S SKIN), the miserable
wife of Oliviero (Luigi Pistilli, THE GOOD THE BAD AND THE UGLY, THE SEXORCIST
[yes, that’s a real title, and it’s not even a porno***]) who, if I may be
permitted to editorialize for just a moment, is a real piece of dogshit. He’s a
abusive alcoholic writer obsessed with his dead mother, and spends most of his
time holding debauched orgies where he humiliates his wife, racistly molesting
his black maid (Angela La Vorgna, EMANUELLE AND JOANNA, a rogue non-Lara-Gemser
EMANUELLE movie), nailing his former students, or just generally being a hateful
fuckbag to everyone he encounters, with the sole exception of his beloved black
cat, imaginatively named ‘Satan.’ When one of the many beautiful young women
who are inexplicably having affairs with this irresistible catch of a man is
murdered, he’s an obvious suspect, and becomes even more so after the maid is
murdered and he gets Irina to help him cover it up.
So far so good for a standard giallo, but things take an
unexpected twist near the start of the second act which pushes the plot in an
entirely different direction-- especially once Oliviero’s sexually provocative
French cousin Floriana (Fenech) shows up, and starts to systematically sleep
with every established character and a few newly introduced ones, for reasons
which are probably less than honorable. In fact, by comfortably the second half
of the film, the most obvious elements of a giallo are entirely gone, replaced
first a lengthy section of pretty much just different sex scenes, and
subsequently with what turns out to be an agreeably nutso erotic noir
with some wild twists, which even manages to generally hold together with some
semblance of logic (I mean, compared to other sleazy noirs and giallos,
not compared to reality. But still).
The first section --the standard giallo part-- is the worst, with
one massively unlikable character, one passive victim, a good bit of cringy
racism, and (SPOILER! what turns out to be a completely extraneous red herring
killer -- the whole murder plot turns out to be completely unimportant and gets
tidily resolved and forgotten about at right about the ⅓ point! END SPOILER).
Once Floriana enters the picture, though, things pick up a bit as she brings a
large dose of puckish chaos into the proceedings, while we’re left to guess at
what game she’s playing. Fenech is certainly most known for being successfully
naked, and she does not challenge that characterization here in any way, but I
also note that she’s an unmistakably compelling screen presence, and her
provocative, nebulous role is perfect for her to show off something other than
her body. Her alert, calculating eyes and barely-submerged smirk bring some
much-needed vivaciousness to a movie which up ‘til this point has trafficked
only in one-dimensional downers.
In case you needed any more hints that this is pretty intense, the subtitles ensure even deaf viewers won't be left out of the crackling suspense:
In case you needed any more hints that this is pretty intense, the subtitles ensure even deaf viewers won't be left out of the crackling suspense:
Even so, I cannot tell a lie, it’s plotless softcore nonsense for
a very long time before the other shoe drops, made much worse because
the giallo-negating twist is dropped so early, leaving you to wonder “what
exactly is this movie about, anyway?” for an uncomfortably long time. It gets
there, but it would be better to get there a lot sooner. 96 minutes isn’t
absurdly long for a giallo, but it can feel that way this time unless you’re
significantly more absorbed in basic nudity than I am capable of being at this
point in my life. Still, particularly in the beautiful Arrow Video blu-ray, the
film looks nice, boasts a pristinely perfect giallo score by Bruno Nicolai (ALL
THE COLORS OF THE DARK,
EYEBALL,
CALIGULA [!]), and features exactly that groovy mix of art and trash that you’d
want in something like this. If it reserves most of its eccentricity for the
final act, well, it’s an act worth waiting for, right down to the
long-simmering reveal of in what possible way Poe could have influenced this
freewheeling tale of amoral cousin-fucking. For a normal human being, it would
probably be unbearable, but to the giallo faithful… well, you knew you were
going to have to see it from the title alone, so the fact that it’s borderline
watchable is just icing on the cake. My vice should be obvious by this point, and if YVIALRAOIHTK isn’t exactly holding the only key, it at least manages to force the lock effectively enough.
One final note of interest: Towards the end of the movie as things
are spiraling out of hand, Irina walks into a room to discover the word
“vendetta” typed over and over obsessively on a typewriter. I’ve never read
King’s 1977 novel The Shining, but I just learned from what I can only
assume is a meticulously well-researched and soundly-sourced online listical
that the famous “all work and no play make jack a dull boy” scene from
Kubrick’s movie version is not in the book. Which leaves only one possible
explanation: Stanley Kubrick was a lifelong fanatic for YVIALRAOIHTK and basically
made THE SHINING as a loving tribute to the beloved original. That’s a fact,
kids, write it down.
*It is also the namesake of my friend Dan P’s anual horror movie
marathon, YOUR VICE IS A HORROR MOVIE MARATHON AND ONLY I HAVE THE NETFLIX QUEUE.
**Also producer for the 2004 MERCHANT OF VENICE starring Al
Pacino?
***Although from what I can gather online, it is also, like most
Italian films, not exactly not a porno. IMDB calls it straight horror
though, so we’ll stick with that.
CHAINSAWNUKAH 2017
CHECKLIST!
The Discreet Charm of the Killing Spree
TAGLINE
|
None apparent
|
TITLE ACCURACY
|
Absolutely meaningless, and I love it
|
LITERARY ADAPTATION?
|
Very vaguely incorporates the one major plot
point in Edgar Allan Poe’s The Black Cat, but at least it admits this
in the credits
|
SEQUEL?
|
None
|
REMAKE?
|
No, unless you count THE SHINING
|
COUNTRY OF ORIGIN
|
Italy!
|
HORROR SUB-GENRE
|
Partial giallo, partial noir
|
SLUMMING A-LISTER?
|
None
|
BELOVED HORROR ICON?
|
Edwidge Fenech, to some degree her co-stars as
well, all of whom had more than a passing association with the giallo genre
(though they also worked in Westerns and, uh, “erotic comedies” and stuff)
|
NUDITY?
|
Oh yeah
|
SEXUAL ASSAULT?
|
Totes
|
WHEN ANIMALS ATTACK!
|
Cat attack, then attack on cat, then
eventually counterattack by cat.
|
GHOST/ ZOMBIE / HAUNTED BUILDING?
|
There’s an implication that there may be
something ghostly going on, but its not explicit
|
POSSESSION?
|
No
|
CREEPY DOLLS?
|
None
|
EVIL CULT?
|
No
|
MADNESS?
|
No
|
TRANSMOGRIFICATION?
|
None
|
VOYEURISM?
|
Yes, Oliviero peeps at Floriana getting down
with some dude in a filthy abandoned hayloft (did people not have beds or
rooms back then?)
|
MORAL OF THE STORY
|
If you’re going to name your film YOUR VICE IS
A LOCKED ROOM AND ONLY I HAVE THE KEY, I’m going to like it pretty much no
matter what.
|
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