Giuliano Carnimeo’s The Case of the Bloody Iris is the kind of giallo film that neither soars to dizzying artistic heights nor sinks into complete schlock—it simply hums along at a steady, if slightly wobbly, pace. It’s a colorful, pulpy murder mystery that offers exactly what genre fans expect: a string of creative kills, a glamorous lead in Edwige Fenech, and just enough sleaze to remind you this is early ’70s Italian exploitation cinema.
The Story and Pacing
The film’s setup is classic giallo: a masked killer is stalking the tenants of a modern apartment building, each murder drenched in lurid detail. The plot moves briskly, if sometimes awkwardly, from one set piece to another—an elevator stabbing here, a bathtub drowning there—while weaving in the slightly absurd subplot of a sex cult named “Iris.” The police investigation is serviceable but hardly gripping; the film’s main propulsion comes from waiting to see what bizarre flourish the next murder will bring.
That said, the script’s structure occasionally works against it. The red herrings are so numerous and so thinly sketched that by the halfway point, you stop believing any of them could plausibly be the killer. When the eventual reveal does arrive, it’s more of a shrug than a gasp. Still, the ride getting there is rarely dull, even if the mystery feels like an afterthought.
Performances
Edwige Fenech, as always, commands the screen. She manages to bring some emotional weight to Jennifer Langsbury, a model with a shady past, despite the character largely existing as a beautiful target for the killer’s obsession. Her chemistry with George Hilton, playing architect Andrea Antinori, adds a little charm to the proceedings, though their romance feels more like a contractual obligation than a natural development.
Supporting performances are a mixed bag. Carla Brait brings a welcome burst of energy as Mizar, a doomed casino stripper, while Annabella Incontrera’s Sheila is one of the more interesting suspects. George Rigaud as the violin-playing Professor Isaacs delivers a performance that’s unintentionally campy, which makes the final twist more amusing than shocking.
Direction and Style
Carnimeo, credited as Anthony Ascott, directs with a steady but unremarkable hand. He captures the requisite giallo trademarks—glossy close-ups, bursts of primary colors, suggestive framing—but rarely elevates them to the surreal artistry of someone like Dario Argento. The cinematography by Stelvio Massi is slick enough to keep things visually engaging, and Bruno Nicolai’s score, while not among his most memorable, provides the right mix of suspense and lounge-lizard cool.
The set pieces are functional rather than breathtaking, but there’s a certain charm in their simplicity. The high-rise apartment building makes for a suitably modern and claustrophobic setting, though it’s used more as a backdrop than a character in its own right.
Sex and Violence
Like most gialli of the period, the film walks the tightrope between eroticism and violence, often merging the two. The nudity is handled with the same glossy detachment as the murder scenes—stylized but rarely graphic. The violence is tame by modern standards but still carries enough sting to satisfy genre purists. The tone is playful rather than cruel, which keeps it from feeling mean-spirited even during its more exploitative moments.
Final Thoughts
The Case of the Bloody Iris is a solid, if unremarkable, entry in the giallo canon. It doesn’t have the nightmarish brilliance of Deep Red or the feverish intensity of All the Colors of the Dark, but it also never drags or completely loses the thread. For newcomers to the genre, it offers an accessible sampler of the tropes—beautiful women in peril, elaborate murders, eccentric supporting characters—without pushing too far into the extremes. For seasoned fans, it’s a comfort-food giallo: familiar, competent, and worth revisiting when you’re in the mood for something that delivers exactly what it promises.
Edwige Fenech – Italy’s cult movie beauty queen – https://pochepictures.com/edwige-fenech-from-beauty-queen-to-cult-cinema-icon/
