Knife of Ice (1972)

Dir: UMBERTO LENZI
Country: ITALY/SPAIN

AKA:
Il coltello di ghiaccio
Silent Horror

I should start this review by saying I’m not a big admirer of the films of Umberto Lenzi. I’m well aware of the high esteem he is held in by enthusiasts of cult Italian cinema, but to date I’ve only seen marginal evidence to suggest that Lenzi is little more than an incompetent and talentless hack. I say marginal because I am rather fond of his unconventional and surprising giallo Spasmo (1974), and he did make some striking contributions to the poliziotesschi cycle - most notably Almost Human (1974), Assault with a Deadly Weapon (aka Brutal Justice, 1976), and Violent Naples (aka Death Dealers, 1976). But what these films highlight is the strength of the casting, rather than Lenzi’s direction. I’m often very charitable to those filmmakers who were overshadowed/overlooked in favour of the Bava’s, Argento’s and more recently Fulci’s of the world, but I find Lenzi’s position to be entirely justified. If his career was overshadowed by others, then so too is the mans filmography. In this case by the odious excrement entitled Cannibal Ferox (1981). His earlier departure into the ‘Green Inferno’ The Man from Deep River (1972) was far superior, but Lenzi’s attempt to out grotesque Cannibal Holocaust (1980) casts a long and repulsive shadow over his career.



Knife of Ice was Lenzi’s fifth gialli and followed the earlier Orgasmo (1969), So Sweet…So Perverse (1969), A Quiet Place to Kill (aka Paranoia, 1970) and Seven Bloodstained Orchids (1972). The defining characteristic of Lenzi’s gialli at this time was the casting of American actress Carroll Baker in the lead. She was to Lenzi what Edwige Fenech was to Sergio Martino. But crucially Baker lacks the exotic beauty and knowing charm of Fenech, and at times comes across as exceedingly bland. This is most certainly the case in Knife of Ice where she plays Martha Caldwell, a flaky and vulnerable sort, who hasn’t spoken a word since the childhood trauma of seeing her parents expire in a train wreck. That Knife of Ice is an Italian/Spanish co-production gives the film a certain sensibility that is highlighted with a credit sequence taking place at a bullfight. The brutality and cruelty is eagerly lapped up by an excited audience and the matadors parade around their dying opponent like prize peacocks. It becomes a recurrent image throughout the narrative, an ongoing metaphor of mankind’s capacity for mindless viciousness. Martha is a repulsed spectator, but her sister Jenny (Ida Galli) is unable to contain her excitable bloodlust. These flashbacks indicate polarised positions to the nature of violence, and is in turn a rather effective deception.



Unfortunately this is the only real layer of substance that Knife of Ice possesses. Once we are beyond the bloody arena of bullfighting and into the Spanish countryside, a staid and formulaic plot unfolds. But it is not entirely without moments of inspiration. Naturally a killer begins to stalk the foggy rural setting, and it would seem this assassin has an intimate relationship with the occult. A countryside villa provides the locus for much of the films action, and at night it is saturated in pleasing gothic hues. The insertion of black magic and devil worship into the narrative strategies of the giallo is most welcome, but genre savvy spectators will conclude rapidly that this is a red herring. Like most gialli one can dismiss many characters simply because they are too self-consciously constructed as red herrings. So the chauffeur Marcos (Eduardo Fajardo) is obviously not the killer, because the film spends too much time making him sinister and strange. Likewise the mysterious morphine addicted stranger that is stalking the town is equally too obvious, though he does provide distinction with his drug addled eyes. But why the screenplay by Lenzi and Luis G. de Blain chose to make the character English remains a mystery. In fact Englishness in Knife of Ice is equated to murder, the occult, and drug addiction. The only English character who emerges with respectability is the frail and elderly Uncle Ralph, who himself is an expert in dark and esoteric texts.



So what you are left with is a film heading towards a predictable climax in which the least likely character is the killer. But at least Knife of Ice doesn’t commit the common sin of revealing the culprit to be a barely glimpsed and tangential character. My major criticism of this forgettable giallo is its surprising lack of flamboyance and style. Apart from the all encompassing fog (that disappears as quickly as it comes) the film is seriously lacking in a consistent atmosphere. A large proportion of the film is set in the daytime, and these scenes are entirely lacking in suspense or drama. When the film does shift to night Lenzi does occasionally manage to create tension. In tandem with this visual blandness are a series of uncommitted and indifferent performances (only Franco Fantasia emerges with credit), and a lack of sleaze to provide distraction. Knife of Ice is too well mannered to be an effective giallo.

© Shaun Anderson 2012