The Case of the Bloody Iris

If Aldo Lado's Who Saw Her Die? represented the classier side of the giallo, The Case of the Bloody Iris (original title Perché Quelle Strane Gocce di Sangue sul Corpo di Jennifer?, which translates as the wonderfully tongue-twisting "Why Are Those Strange Drops of Blood on the Body of Jennifer?") characterizes its sordid underbelly. This film is sleaze in its purest form, and is also one of the finest examples of what makes a giallo a giallo without including any of the more troublesome trappings like a good plot, interesting characters and even-handedness. This film is almost completely generic, its characters are cardboard cut-outs, and the acting and dubbing are risible... but it's great fun. Certainly, the absolute best and worst of the genre is on display in this film, and I would definitely recommend it as a great jumping-off point for people who want to know what a giallo is.

A young woman is stabbed to death in the elevator of an apartment block, and shortly afterwards, the woman who discovered the body (Carla Brait), is also murdered, leaving her rooms vacant. A young English model working in Italy, Jennifer Lansbury (Edwige Fenech, looking like anything but an Englishwoman), moves in, and soon finds herself the target of the very same killer. Who is the perpetrator? Could it be her ditzy roommate Marilyn (Paola Quattrini)? Her new boyfriend, housing agent Andrea (George Hilton, looking like anything but a housing agent)? Her former lover, bigamist Adam (Ben Carra)? The sultry lesbian, Sheila (Annabella Incontrera), who lives with her domineering father, Professor Hendricks (Georges Rigaud)? Or perhaps Arthur (Oreste Lionello), the deformed man kept locked up by his mother? The possibilities are endless, and the killer is closing in...


As I stated in my introduction, this is a very traditional giallo, and carries with it the best and worst trappings of the genre. The cast is comprised almost entirely of genre regulars, with the golden couple of gialli, George Hilton and Edwige Fenech, occupying top billing. Indeed, all but the director clocked in a phenomenal amount of time in the giallo field: Giuliano Carnimeo, credited here as "Anthony Ascott", was predominantly a maker of Spaghetti Westerns, and this was his only entry into thriller territory. Actually, if I had been asked to guess who the director was, I would unequivocally have replied "Sergio Martino". The cast and crew of this film, and subsequently its look and feel, are comprised primarily of Martino regulars, and it bears all the usual flaws of one of his films, right down to its bizarre exploitative use of the same non-mainstream sexuality that it seems to be reacting against. Of course, it is this sort of predictability that makes Iris such good fun: it won't give the old brain cells a work-out, but you know you're in good hands and can expect a few elements as givens, namely a trippy Bruno Nicolai score, a bizarre line-up of suspects, outlandish drug-induced flashbacks, a handsome offering of blood and guts and, of course, Edwige Fenech disrobing on as many occasions as possible.

Iris makes sure to keep the fans happy by including all of these elements, and while Fenech herself doesn't bare her assets until around the film's halfway mark, her co-stars make sure not to let the side down by getting into all sorts of exploitative situations of their own, including a bizarre wrestling game involving an exotic dancer that has to count as an all-time low (or high, depending on your point of view) for sexual situations that have no relation to the plot. One gets the impression that the screenwriter, giallo veteran Ernesto Gastaldi, had no intention of delivering a clever or engaging plot and focused his attention entirely on delivering the sex and violence for which the genre had become known. The plot actually cribs wholesale from Martino's first film (itself a Gastaldi script featuring Fenech and Hilton), The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh, in its use of Fenech's vicious ex-lover as a prime suspect. The gang-bang flashbacks also recall another Martino film, All the Colors of the Dark. And, of course, Edwige Fenech plays yet another oppressed girly-girl, with a habit for picking up the sleaziest boyfriends imaginable.


What keeps Iris entertaining is its murder set-pieces, which are present in abundance and of a high standard. The opening elevator murder (later swiped by Brian De Palma in Dressed to Kill) gets things off to a great start, and Gastaldi's script continues to offer kill after kill at regular intervals, usually following a lengthy stalk sequence. A daylight stabbing scene in a crowded street is a particular highlight (even going so far as to anticipate a similar scene in Argento's Tenebre, made a decade later), as is the lengthy chase leading up to the film's climax. Even a bathtub drowning, which appeared in numerous gialli at the time, is handled with panache and turns out to be an excellent exercise in tension.

On the downside, the script doesn't really work too hard at laying down clues for an involving whodunit, instead preferring to categorize the suspects by type. In other words, anyone who comes across as being in the least bit quirky or "abnormal" can be added to the list. This includes those of "dubious" sexuality - poor Sheila, who just wants to have a bit of fun with Jennifer (and who could blame her, when Jennifer shows up at her door wearing little more than a see-through bra?), is told by a police officer that her problem is she needs to "get with a man" - and those who are physically deformed. Likewise, as is so often the case, the victims are seemingly "punished" for being somehow "different" from the norm. Acting-wise, the film is no great shakes either, with Edwige Fenech playing the same part that she played in so many other movies (the wide-eyed victim), and the rest of the cast merely playing the same cardboard cut-out characters that inhabit virtually every giallo. The script, and the attrocious dubbing, certainly don't help matters, but I doubt that any of the performances were exactly Oscar-worthy in the first place.


DVD Presentation

The Case of the Bloody Iris is the only title in the Giallo Collection that is not available separately, and as such has been marketed as one of the set's biggest selling points. It is a shame, therefore, that the presentation is not of the same standard as that of the other films in the collection. The biggest problem is softness - while not outright blurry, it lacks the definition of the other transfers in the set - but muted colours and some noticeable print damage also play their part.

The audio is much the same as the other titles in the collection: English mono, and sounding acceptable but constrained by age. There are no subtitles.


Extras

The bonus features on this disc are rather limited, again marking it out as separate from the other three titles in the Giallo Collection. No interview is provided on this occasion, which further marks the film out as a committee product rather than a personal project as was the case with Lado and Bido's films. Instead, an alternative version of the stabbing of one of the film's many victims is offered up, which in reality amounts to little more than a censored version of what appears in the full uncut feature. Its inclusion is pretty pointless and it strikes me that Anchor Bay were simply struggling to come up with something to include on the disc.

A filmography for "Anthony Ascott", and the film's theatrical trailer, are also included.


Overall

The Case of the Bloody Iris is a rather silly and slight giallo, and I very much doubt that anyone involved in its production over-exerted themselves. As such, it is a very traditional and unsurprising effort, but remains good fun to watch. The DVD presentation and extras are not up to the same standard as the other titles in the Giallo Collection, but as it is the weakest film in the set this may not be a huge disappointment.