The Fifth Cord (1971)

A story that's too fascinating to pass by...

While it is a pity that the story wasn't told with more visual finesse, this is trivial compared to our real-world problems. It takes a good movie to put that into perspective.

There's no way I can possibly love it entirely but I just think its ridiculously bad, but enjoyable at the same time.

One of the worst ways to make a cult movie is to set out to make a cult movie.

A fairly typical entry in the giallo genre, largely overlooked due to the slow pacing and lack of gore which may be off-putting to some genre fans. This is a film which concentrates on the whodunit aspect of the genre rather than the exploitative levels of sex and violence that most other films from the period explore, and as such is an understated film. However, it's a brilliantly made one, beautifully shot with a fine colour palette and director Luigi Bazzoni handles the scene setting and camera set-ups very well. Great use is made of wide open spaces and spacious apartment sets and the cinematography is excellent all round.There's a lack of action to be sure and the death scenes, normally highlights of such films, leave a lot to be desired and barely register. Even so the BBFC found something to cut out, here eliminating a brief throat-slitting that will obviously cause every viewer caught unawares to go out in the street and recreate the violence on a homeless man. The nastiest death involves a crippled woman being strangled and thrown over a balcony but that's as unpleasant as it gets.Franco Nero stars as the leading character, a journalist who becomes caught up in the crimes and finds himself to be a suspect (yes, it's the old 'wronged man' theme popping up again, predictably enough). Nero is as good here as he ever was and totally convinces as the weary, washed-up alcoholic reporter, and as a bonus he gets to use his own voice for the dubbing also. Solid supporting turns come from the likes of Wolfgang Preiss and Edmund Purdom, although it's the beautiful Italian ladies who make the real impression here - the fragile Rossella Falk, the lusty Ira Von Furstenberg, the gorgeous Silvia Monti; they all shine as prospective victims for the killer.The script is careful to keep the identity of the murderer a secret to the very, very end, but there are plenty of red herrings and suspects (including a trio of perverts who enjoy watching young couples copulating, a Peeping Tom and the ever-shifty Edmund Purdom) to keep you guessing all the way through. Watch this film for the visuals alone; otherwise it's very run-of-the-mill stuff, but the artistry used to compose the shots and camera-work alone make it one to be watched.

His on and off girlfriend is getting married. His ex-girlfriend is filing for divorce. What's a guy to do? Drink himself into an early grave perhaps? But things are about to get a whole lot worse. Sporting 70's style mutton chops and matching porn-stache, matinée idol Franco Nero is a brooding booze hound reporter on the crime beat who becomes the lead suspect in a serial murder case he's investigating! A couple of red herrings are tossed around as the bodies begin to pile up. A couple of crates of J&B are consumed. A muddled but mildly entertaining mess follows, involving a sleazy doctor, his crippled wife, an asthmatic newspaper editor, a creepy race car driver, a young prostitute and her peeper pop. Add to that some astrological mumbo jumbo about the killer's MO that makes him kill only on Tuesdays. Still manages to stay tolerable. But when the identity of the masked murderer is finally revealed, it is anti-climactic to say the least. It feels like the makers of the film had a totally different culprit in mind but were forced to change their plans at the very end. Possibly for astrological reasons. Almost entirely forgettable giallo except for Legendary Lensman Vittorio Storaro's innovative and exciting camera-work that makes it worth a one- time watch

Exceptional giallo thriller from director Luigi Bazzoni starring Franco Nero as a boozing news journalist, Andrea Bild, who is assigned a story regarding various individuals who are murdered on Tuesdays representing a specific horoscopic point of birth by a killer whose chilling voice diabolically whispers on a recorded machine his plans of executing chosen prey with anticipation. The selection of the killer all tie into an inner circle of wealth, as the film introduces us to an important doctor, Richard Bini(Renato Romano), his crippled, wheel-chair bound wife, Sophia(Rossella Falk), a French businessman, Edouard Vermont(Edmund Purdom)who doesn't realize that his up-coming marriage to Isabel Lancia(Ira von Fürstenberg)is what is ultimately fueling the the unusual murder spree, and Andrea's ex-lover Helene(Silvia Monti). What Andrea soon realizes is that he has ties to all those who are chosen for annihilation, and, despite being so wasted he couldn't hardly stand, doesn't have an air-tight alibi during the time each individual was killed. He's soon removed from covering the story, approaching his editor angrily, threatening to kill him for being taken off..and, in doing so becomes an even greater suspect when his editor is found dead, dying of a heart attack as someone chased after him with a knife in the bushes near the newspaper office. To truly clear his name, and motivated and driven to bring the real killer to justice, Andrea will not stop until the madness is over. And, as each body is found, a glove with an extra finger is missing at the crime scene of every subsequent victim who is discovered, with the final chosen perhaps being Helene's own son! What Andrea discovers is quite a perverse side to those involved with the victims killed, Edouard and Richard's extra curricular activities regarding their enjoyment in watching a couple, a race car driver and underage prostitute whose father likes to watch in hiding, making out in a secret establishment. In a sub-plot, Andrea has a on-again/off-again sexual relationship with a lovely fashion model who is the sister to the race car driver and he still carries feelings for Helene. Very important is the attack of a certain character, Lubbock(Maurizio Bonuglia) in a tunnel and how he communicates with Andrea regarding supposed threats from an unknown person harassing him with phone calls and letters. But, Lubbock is a key character in this film for, unlike the other victims killed on Tuesday, he was attacked on Monday. An image that means everything in the grand scheme of things is Lubbock's reaction to Edouard and Isabel's loving embrace at a fancy restaurant.The creepy voice delightfully explaining how he/she couldn't wait to strangle and kill accompanying a fish-eye lens into the restaurant at the very opening of this movie sure sets the tone for this well crafted giallo which definitely benefits from the talents and artistic eye of cinematographer Vittorio Storaro(..who turned down working with director Michaelangelo Antonioni as a favor to his pal, Bazzoni)who was red-hot and on his way to great success(..but, he had already achieved this with Bernardo Bertolucci's masterpiece "The Conformist"). The exquisite camera set-ups, the masterful way he shoots characters from long distances in stunning locations exploiting beautifully empty spaces(..a massive flight of steps, a long tunnel, desolate ruins of skeletal warehouses), how the lens at times looks like a spying mechanism, a type of eye that's looking at the world from a different point of view all give this a thumb up over Bazzoni's contemporaries. But, to limit the film's execution to just Storaro is taking away from what everyone accomplishes, from the editing on down. I will say that while the twist wasn't that surprising, the finale(..from the moment Helene calls her son Tony about locking the doors only to discover that the killer is inside the house, to Andrea's chasing him into the ruins of decaying buildings where they scuffle often throwing each other through glass)is a nail-biter. And Morricone's musical accompaniment only adds to the visual work and tense sequences where danger possibly awaits Andreas. And, finally an actor of the caliber of Franco Nero, called Mr. Bill by almost everyone, in the lead as our troubled and fallible hero searching for the truth while confiding in the very police inspector tailing him, puts the final jewel in the crown of a gem giallo, and it comes highly regarded from yours truly. This is a must for giallo fans. The eerie sequence concerning Sophia, alone in her room up-stairs on the floor crying for help as a killer turns out the lights with only the flaming fireplace guiding her, is definitely a high-light.

"The Fifth Cord" (1971) is a rock-solid if meaninglessly titled giallo ("The Fifth Finger" might have made more sense) that, despite the low-cc count bloodwise, should manage to satisfy most viewers. In it, Franco Nero plays a very handsome but hard-drinking reporter (so hard-drinking that he swills J&B from the bottle while driving!) who investigates after a serial killer begins to slay his quickly diminishing circle of friends. Though fans of these gialli should recognize any number of Euro stars in this film, the real stars of the show, in this case, are surely behind the camera. Luigi Bazzoni's direction is stylish and fluid as can be, maestro Ennio Morricone's score is by turns atmospheric and unsettling, and, most importantly, cinematographer Vittorio Storaro's lensing here is truly a work of art. Indeed, this is one of the best-looking gialli that I have ever seen. As far as the plot goes, yes, it does hold together, the murderer does not appear out of far left field at the end, and there are several quite suspenseful sequences. I especially appreciated two near the end, with the killer stalking a young boy, and with Nero chasing and duking it out with the crazed wacko in a deserted building. Despite the presence of seemingly unavoidable red herrings, I was able to look back at this film's story afterward and realize that it did indeed cohere logically. And how nice to see American actress Pamela Tiffin, after her '60s ingenue roles, playing such a sultry sexpot here. Meow! Actually, the only thing that bothered me about "The Fifth Cord" was its time frame. The picture seems to transpire over the course of a mere week or two, and yet by the stated dates of the homicides at the film's end, one realizes that over 4 1/2 months have elapsed! I guess time truly does fly when the viewer is having fun....