Sunday, October 20, 2019

Review: The New York Ripper (3-Disc Limited Edition)


Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2019
Images from the Internet


The New York Ripper (aka Lo squartatore di New York)
Directed by Lucio Fulci
Fulvia Films / Silent Warrior Productions / Blue Underground / MVD Entertainment
93 minutes, 1982 / 2019

I’m grateful for the VHS revolution of the 1980s because it introduced me to the world of Italian horror cinema that most likely would have escaped my radar. As I have stated before, most people refer to Dario Argento, and while I know his work is brilliant, I see him as more form than content as his films are beautiful, but the stories are mostly lacking and confusing. The first time I saw a film by Lucio Fulci (d. 1996), The Beyond, it was jaw-dropping in both story and level of horror and blood.

Jack Hedley and \Paolo Malco
Blue Underground has restored this film into 4K Blu-ray, which was taken from the uncensored original camera negative, and it is startling. The clarity of the blood and gore is a thing of beauty in it’s grotesqueness. It had been re-released in Blu-ray in 2009, and some of the extras here are from that, but the new 2019 restoration of the work from the grumpy Maestro is noteworthy.

This film is striking in particular for several reasons. First, unlike some of Fulci’s other known works in North America, this isn’t really a horror film, though it could pass as a slasher; it’s more classic giallo, with cops and murders rather than zombies and demons. There is a deeper psychological aspect to this release, as I will get to eventually.

Almanta Suska
Second, even for Fulci, this is quite the brutal film. Like the similarly murderer-in-New York Maniac (1980; also recently re-released by Blue Underground), this is a psychological study of the killer, who in this case is not revealed until much later rather than being the central character right off the bat, remaining as a who-done-it, as well. While I’m at it, there is a subway station chase scene that is very reminiscent of the two-year earlier Maniac; I’m not sure if it is coincidence or an homage.

While it’s true that the victims are pretty and female – something that may raise an eyebrow now but was common back then – it’s the way they are dispatched that raises the bar and makes it almost uncomfortable in an additional way in this modern and woke metoo world. The gore is close-up (though not clinical like torture porn) and of course all done with appliances rather than digital. With the new 4K processing, the – err – death comes more alive to the eye.

Andrea Occhipinti
The third is something quite extraordinary as becoming iconic, and that is the “Quack Quack” sound made by the killer; while spoken in not quite a Donald Duck way, it is in a high-pitched, forced voice. This weird speech and sound have resonated through the decades of when this first was first released, most likely for the oddity of it (much in the same weird way Angela stands frozen with mouth agape at the end of 1983’s Sleepaway Camp).

The plotline is pretty basic: a slasher is going around New York killing beautiful women while taunting Fred Williams (Jack Hedley; not Hedy), the grizzled police Lieutenant on the case, with quacked-up phone calls. Williams brings in Columbia University professor Dr. Paul Davis (Paolo Malco) to help him do a psychological profile on the killer. While this is happening, one woman named Fay survives an attack (Almanta Suska), and now she and her professor husband, Peter (Andrew Painter, aka Andrea Occhipinti) are living in fear of the killer returning.

The thing about this film is that everyone has their own vices, be it prostitutes, sex addition, being gay (again, it’s the ‘80s), so the killer is not the only one with sexual deviances and dalliances (in the story’s perspective, not mine). In many cases, these proclivities result in the ending of life.

Alexandra Delli Colli
The film is beautiful to look at, even as it scans New York at one of it’s physically low moments, with subways that are graffiti-laden, live sex shows on the Deuce (42 Street), litter everywhere, and shuttered stores and darkened streets that are now better lit). Hell, the opening pan of lower Manhattan from Brooklyn (my turf) includes the Twin Towers (RIP).

In this Blue Underground series, which includes the aforementioned Maniac and Fulci’s Zombi (1979), there are lots of extras, the main one being the three discs, namely a High Definition Blu-ray (1080p), a Standard Definition DVD Widescreen 2.40:1 feature presentation, and the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack CD by Francesco De Masi. Some “quick and easy” ones are the Theatrical Trailer, and Poster and Still Gallery, audio in 7.1 DTS-HD (English); 1.0 DTS-HD (English, Italian); 1.0 Dolby Digital (French, Spanish), and subtitles in English SDH, Francais, Espanol, and English for Italian Audio.

There are a whole series of featurettes, as well. To start, there’s “The Art of Killing - Interview with Co-Writer Dardano Sacchetti” (29 min), who discusses the genesis of the screenplay, his love/hate relationship with Fulci, and what the film means to him; it’s all quite interesting. Next is “Three Fingers of Violence - Interview with Star Howard Ross” (15 min), who played the key missing digits suspect, Mickey Scellenda. While he talks a bit in circles about mundane things such as weightlifting, he also has some nice film anecdotes, especially about his female co-stars. For “The Second Victim - Interview with Co-Star Cinzia de Ponti,” (12 min) we meet “Rosie,” who bikes down from Central Park to Park Avenue, to the Staten Island Ferry (that’s quite the in-town distance), only to get slaughtered by the Quacker; it’s also the first murder we actually see. A former Miss Italy (1979), Cinzia discusses – what else – working with Fulci in this and a further film, Manhattan Baby (also 1982). Her stories are interesting and a bit self-focused. The next two are both about the same actress, “The Broken Bottle Murder - Interview with Co-Star Zora Kerova” (9 min) and “'I'm an Actress!' - 2009 Interview with Co-Star Zora Kerova” (10 min). Obviously, the stories overlap a bit here, but enough new information is given in both that it’s worth watching

Daniela Doria
The next discussion is “The Beauty Killer - Interview with Stephen Thrower, Author of Beyond Terror: The Films of Lucio Fulci” (23 min). The first in English, Thrower describes a deeper beginning for the film, and paints a picture of both what it means in an analytic way (especially the mystic of misogyny), and how it was received by critics, fans and government at the time. “Paint Me Blood Red - Interview with Poster Artist Enzo Sciotti” (17 min) was a bit less than I was interested in, so I truthfully skipped it (though probably would have watched it if it were shorter). Last of the featurettes (but not extras) is “NYC Locations Then and Now” (4 min) from 2009. Already 10 years outdated, it’s still a fascinating B-roll (with music behind it) as we see very particular places compared in 1982 and 2009. I really enjoyed this, and in many ways, it made me nostalgic for the old Deuce.

The big extra, of course, is the audio commentary with Troy Howarth, author of Splintered Visions: Lucio Fulci and His Films. Howarth has a lot to say, and he tends to talk really fast, which works both for and against him. Let’s get to the “against” part first to get it over with. There is a lot – and I mean a lot – of data thrown at us for each actor, both onscreen and voiceovers. While this information is important, certainly, much of it can be found on IMDB. It starts to sound like someone reading off a bunch of sports scores or multiple weather reports, where it kinda all blends together. Where the commentary shines, however, is when Howarth discusses anecdotes of the backstory of the film, and especially when he waxes poetic about the reaction to its release and his social/cinematic critique of it, a little of which of my own I will add in the last paragraph of this review. He does get one fact amusingly wrong when he ponders whether a certain subway El staircase is the same one used in The French Connection (1971). As I lived a few blocks away from the 79 St Station in Brooklyn where TFC was filmed, I can confirm that this was indeed not the same location.

On the physical side, two other extras are the lovely 3D slipcase cover and a collectable booklet inside with new essay by Travis Crawford.

One of the aspects of this film that I enjoyed the most was the successful use of red herrings. The who is the killer is questionable until the reveal. The possibilities bounce around a bit and is a head scratcher. I picked who I believed it to be, to be proved wrong, which is always better.

This film is notorious for its violence and its misogyny, and yet the female characters are the most interesting, with the strongest personalities, instincts and intellect. They shine more than the anti-hero copper, Williams, who is an angry, burned out shell of a person (as I would argue is the character of Danny in Blue Bloods, but I digress…). Also, this work has one of the bleakest endings, right up there with the likes of The Day of the Locust (1975). But for this particular story and the timeframe in which it was released, it all makes sense and also still makes it stand out. This is Fulci at his fiercest and his finest.



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