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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
