The Red-Headed
   Corpse

Slasher Trash with Panache?

Review: JA Kerswell

A rather languid affair, this Turkish-Italian Giallo co-production is long on dreamlike ambience and short on logic. An alcoholic artist in Istanbul murders his lover in a jealous rage, but she appears to reanimate after he fashions a mannequin in her image. His joy is short-lived—and his jealousy reignited—when she becomes irresistible to every man who lays eyes on her. About as far removed from the then current black-gloved body count Italian thrillers popularised by Dario Argento as it can be, but it has a hazy charm if you're in the right mood. 
 
A hard-drinking artist, John (Farley Granger), struggles to make ends meet in Istanbul with his abstract paintings. His mood worsens when his on-off lover (Erika Blanc) says that it is time to move on with another man (Venantino Venantini) she has met and plans to travel to Barcelona with. In a jealous rage, John stabs her to death with a palette knife. Later, he spots some hippies laying about in the woods. He turns down the opportunity to smoke marijuana with them—but does accept the gift of a beat-up mannequin one of them bizarrely presents to him and takes it back to his studio.
 
Seemingly grief-stricken, John attempts to paint the mannequin to resemble his slain lover. He is amazed that the model turns into a seemingly flesh-and-blood woman. However, it is not his previous lover but a different, beautiful woman (Krista Nell) who is mute but seems infatuated with him. John tells her: “If you’re only a dream, I beg you not to go away just yet,” and they embark on a brief fairy tale romance, including romantic walks in the woods surrounded by cows. In a new twist—and seemingly without reason—the woman morphs into his former red-headed lover.
 
Again, John embarks on domestic bliss with his seemingly resurrected beau but confides to her that he is broke and art dealers only want paintings of beautiful nude women. She suggests that he paint her, but after being at first hesitant, he is pleasantly surprised that these are a big hit with his clients, who are willing to pay top dollar for paintings of the beautiful, naked red-headed woman. However, her allure is seemingly contagious, and she becomes an obsession for every man she meets. With one telling her: “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. Like a volcano!” At first, she resists but eventually gives in to them and starts dating one man (the same man she had intended to go Barcelona with or someone with a striking resemblance)—at first in secret and then eventually flaunting their affair in front of an increasingly jealous and distraught John. Again, she threatens to leave him. Will he kill her a second time, or is this all some kind of alcohol-induced hallucination? 

In many ways, the film has more in common with Mario Bava’s highly stylised descent into madness HATCHET FOR A HONEYMOON (1970) than the majority of other Italian thrillers released in 1972. Despite the production’s rather threadbare nature, Granger gives an effective, dedicated performance in a difficult role—despite his character in no way being particularly sympathetic. However, Blanc steals every scene she’s in as the mercurial muse who is sexy, fun, unpredictable and, at times, petulant. Given the film’s often abstract nature, her character is simply referred to as ‘The Sensuous Doll'.
 
Whilst THE RED-HEADED CORPSE has a surreal wooziness, it is hardly the most thrilling of thrillers. Somewhat bizarrely—in the age of jet-set Eurocult—the film even manages to make a wintery Istanbul look particularly drab. It also never quite makes good on its intriguing premise. It is arguable whether it is a Giallo at all given the one sole murder—and it’s not certain that even happened. However, there is a mystery that is semi-solved by the end credits, which perhaps gives it enough yellow credit (and its title’s literal Italian translation is the very Gialloesque THE REDHEAD WITH THE BURNING SKIN).
 
Skip the rest of this paragraph if you don’t want to know what happens. The majority of the film does indeed appear to be a giant alcoholic hallucination, where John creates what he thinks is the perfect woman—but who will ultimately betray him because of his own failings. The lover of Blanc’s character leads the police to the shallow grave that John has unearthed that they believe will contain her body. However, they are surprised to find a plastic skeleton in a ginger wig instead. The police detective suggests that she perhaps didn’t ever exist—which comes as a surprise to her lover, who has plane tickets in her name! 
 
Both Granger and Blanc were Giallo regulars around this time. Granger appeared in two other Gialli the same year—AMUCK and the more Argento-inspired SO SWEET, SO DEAD. Like a number of Gialli from the time, extra erotic content was spliced in for some territories. THE RED-HEADED CORPSE was no exception. Although here, a brief nudie fumble in the woods is more Benny Hill than DEEP THROAT (also 1972). Director Renzo Russo seemed an odd choice for what was ostensibly supposed to be a thriller, given that he previously had a brief run of erotic Mondo-type movies in the early to mid-1960s. The film got a belated Stateside release under the title THE SENSUOUS DOLL in 1974-1975, teasing that it had been “Banned in Europe” (I doubt it had, although it was heavily cut for a 1974 UK cinema release for a truncated 61 minute running time).
 
Ultimately, THE RED-HEADED CORPSE has something of a disjointed, psychedelic allure—and the wonderful Erika Blanc, of course, but those looking for more conventional thrills may be better served elsewhere. 

BODY COUNT 1: 
Female 1 / Male 0

1. Female is stabbed to death with a palette knife

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