Inferno (Dario Argento, 1980)

When most of us get a hankering to explore the subterranean depths of creepy big city apartment buildings, we dress appropriately. Meaning, we don't wear pleated skirts, puffy blouses and strappy heels. However, since the subterranean depths in this movie aren't being explored in any old movie, beige slacks, bland sweaters and ho-hum sneakers are just not going to cut it. In other words, the sight of a fashionable blonde slathered in Bulgari jewelry exploring every nook and cranny of the cellar of an alchemist-designed apartment building isn't that far-fetched. You see, in Dario Argento's Inferno, if you're going to foolishly poke around the underground caverns where evil usually dwells, you better look fabulous while doing so. I mean, seriously, who wants to watch a bunch of poorly dressed slobs explore the depths of pure acid hell? I know I sure don't. Granted, the film does boast a "final man" instead of a "final girl." But we do get to see three stylish women slowly make their way through a series of sinister hallways (four, if you include the mysterious cat lady). And we get to see  the alluring Veronica Lazar befuddle the living shit out of some guy in beige slacks. Actually, I shouldn't call him "some guy," as Mark, played by the ridiculously named Leigh McCloskey, is the final man. In a way, you could view the decision to make the last person standing a man as a bold one, as men don't often make it to the ends of these types of movies. Then again, Inferno isn't your typical Dario Argento movie.

And you know it's not your typical Dario Argento movie when your favourite character turns out to be the differently-abled, unibrowed owner of an antique bookstore. In case you're not familiar with the bookstore owner, his name is Kazanian (Sacha Pitoëff) and he limped (he walks with the aid of crutches) his way into my heart. Of course, I didn't approve of his method of getting rid of the cats that have an annoying habit of hanging around his store. No, I simply liked the way he interacted with Leigh McCloskey and Irene Miracle (the woman in the pleated skirt), and his final moments are wonderfully horrific.

In fact, I would go as far as to declare Sacha Pitoëff's death scene to be one of the most effective death scenes to appear in a Dario Argento movie. And that, of course, is high praise, since everyone of his twenty-plus movies has a surplus of gruesome death scenes.

Stuffing a cat that was lounging underneath one of his bookshelves into a sack filled with two, maybe three other cats, Lazarian, the owner of Lazarian Antiques, ties the cat sack shut and proceeds to make his way to a nearby rat-infested creek.

After failing on his first attempt to dump the cat sack in the sewage-laden water, Kazarian gets the cat sack to sink on his second try. Obviously feeling good about himself (after all, he just drowned a sack of cats), Kazarian begins to leave. As he's doing so, he slips and falls into the very same sewage water the sack filled with cats are currently drowning.

Unable to reach his crutches, Kazarian flails about like a turtle on its back (except he's on his front). The hundreds of rats doing rat stuff close by notice this and begin to swarm around Kazarian. As you might expect, he begins to scream loudly when the rats start nibbling on his flesh. These screams attract the attention of a butcher, who comes running to help Kazarian. Or does he? I'm not going to say anything more, but what the butcher does is, uh... Let's just say, it's unexpected.

While Kazarian struggles in the water, Rose Elliot (Irene Miracle) is not only adept, she's downright fish-like. And she has huge balls. Curious about a book called "The Three Mothers" by an alchemist named Varelli, Rose discovers that one of these "mothers" are connected to an old apartment building in New York City. Deducing that the secrets of the book lie beneath the building, Rose begins to eyeball the grate located in the adjoining alleyway.

Where does it lead? She must be wondering to herself.

Instead of getting some man to help her, Rose simply walks down there and starts exploring.

Did I mention that Rose does so in a pleated skirt, a puffy blouse and a pair of strappy heels? I did? Good. This can't be stressed enough, as having your characters wear clothes that are interesting to look at is integral to interesting cinema. At least to me it is.

As she's wondering to herself about where the stairs lead, you'll notice that the wind is having a field day with Rose's pleated skirt and puffy blouse.

Accidentally dropping her keys in a flooded section of the building's basement, Rose decides to do a little underwater exploring. That's right, I said, "underwater exploring." Who does those chick think she is, Aquawoman and/or Aquagirl?

I'll admit, I wasn't expecting much from this film. I mean, it starts with a woman reading a book while a mysterious male narrator drops a ton of exposition in our laps. What is this? A horror movie or a homework assignment? However, my attitude changed somewhat when Irene Miracle starts doing her impression of Shelley Winters in The Poseidon Adventure. What I think I'm trying to say is this, I found the underwater sequence to be suspenseful and I was impressed with Irene Miracle's submerged acting.

According to Dario Argento, Irene Miracle was cast because she was a synchronized swimmer as a teen. In other words, she has the skills necessary to stay underwater for an extended period of time.

You might have noticed that Rose mailed a letter before exploring the building's cellar. Well, that letter was for her brother Mark, who studies musicology in Rome. While in class, Mark decides to read the letter. When he gets to about the third sentence, he notices a woman... a strange beautiful woman (Ania Pieroni), holding/stroking a cat.

Unable to concentrate, Mark zones out. The fact that Keith Emerson's synthy prog rock has started to blast on the soundtrack isn't helping matters. Following the cat woman, Mark leaves, forgetting his sisters letter in the process.

Did anyone else find it odd that Sara (Eleonora Giorgi), Mark's friend/classmate, reads his letter? Either way, after reading it, Sara develops an interest in The Three Mothers. In fact, she's so interested, she heads straight to the library to pick up a copy. To the surprise of no-one, spooky shit starts happening to Sara as soon she starts poking around. Hell, it starts to happen before she even enters the library (she cuts her hand while getting out of the cab).

Not wanting Rose to suffer the same fate as Sara, Mark tries to contact her. Realizing that his sister is in serious danger, Mark hops on the next flight to New York. And this is when the fun really starts to begin. My first question would have been, upon arriving at the Three Mothers building, what's the deal with the red hallways? Call me crazy, but it's almost as if the building is alive. The red hallways being blood vessels and the blue stripes on the walls being veins.

Oh, and pay close attention to Veronica Lazar's nurse character's demeanor when she chats with Mark in the elevator. I can understand her being not too bright (not everyone is scholarly and junk), but no-one is that dumb. No, she's hiding something. And there's definitely something shady going on with that old dude she's pushing around in a wheelchair.

While not as gory as Dario Argento's other films, or technically proficient, for that matter (the knife through the neck effect during the sequence where Sara is peril was poorly executed), Inferno has great atmosphere, top-notch production design (the interiors of the New York building are gorgeous), Daria Nicolodi's bangs were pinpoint perfect (as per usual), excellent animal stunts (rats, cats, ants, lizards and moths) and the Keith Emerson score slowly grew on me (Mater Tenebrarum is the shit - and we get to hear it twice within the span of five minutes). Good stuff.

Patrick Still Lives (Mario Landi, 1980)

Out of these four Italian actresses, Mariangela Giordano, Carmen Russo, Andrea Belfiore and Anna Veneziano, which one shows her bush in Patrick Still Lives? I'll give you a minute to think about it. Okay, if you said Mariangela Giordano, you would be correct. However, if you chose Carmen Russo, you would be correct as well. Actually, if you answered Andrea Belfiore, ding ding ding, you're a winner, too. In fact, if you selected Anna Veneziano as your choice, congratulations, you clearly know your stuff, or, I should, you clearly know your bush. (Hey, what gives, man?) Gives?!? Why, nothing gives. Every Italian actress who appears in this film, one that is loosely based on the Australian chiller, Patrick, is stark naked at one point or another. And therein lies the innate appeal of this psychological barn-burner from Mario Landi. In most movies, you'll be lucky if you can get one actress to allow you to film her being killed by dogs while wearing an open robe. But the producers of this film somehow managed to snag four actresses willing to perform the various uncouth activities that are peppered throughout this sleazy enterprise. (Now that I think about it, you should have framed your opening question this way: Out of these four Italian actresses, which one exposes her jet black Italian bush onscreen for the longest?) Damn, that's a tough one. Is it okay if I watch the film again? (Sure, go ahead.)

While my alter ego is getting out their bush-based stopwatch, let's discuss the hair located in a different region all-together, shall we? (Don't tell me, someone finally decided to tweeze Patrick's eyebrows?) Very funny. No, if you remember correctly, I was quite shaken by the fact that none of the nurses in the original Patrick bothered to trim/pluck coma boy's eyebrows. And it's clear from the get-go that the Patrick in Patrick Still Lives, played by Gianni Dei, isn't going to have the same problem, as his eyebrows are trim and neat. But get this, Patrick's father, a one Dr. Herschel (Sacha Pitoëff), is sporting the ultimate unruly unibrow.

What the hell happened? Did the eyebrow hair jump from Patrick's face and land on his fathers? After all, he does have psychokinesis. Think about it, if he can transport objects with his mind, why not eyebrow hair? And the last time I checked, eyebrow hair is still classified as an object.

Of course, I'm bringing my own personal eyebrow baggage to the eyebrow discussion. If, say, a less superficial person was reviewing these films, they might not even make a passing reference to eyebrows. But since that person isn't here right now, the topic shall remain eyebrows. However, since the Italian Patrick doesn't have a unibrow and Dr. Herschel usually shields his unibrow with his doctor glasses, this reviews eyebrow content will be scant at best.

Which is a shame, really, as I would much rather talk about eyebrow hair than pubic hair.

Just kidding. While I like both for different reasons, I find pubic hair to be way more appealing than eyebrow hair. I don't know, there's just something about the shape that speaks to me. Yet, it's more than just a triangle-shaped patch of curly hair, you get a sense that everything is going to be all right when you gaze upon a moderately landscaped field of crisp nether fleece.

The only problem being, its soothing nature causes the viewer to become somewhat distracted. In other words, you're supposed to be watching a gripping scene where life and limb are at stake, but instead, you can't help looking at their unclothed crotches kicking up an Italian fuss.

Unlike me, this film wastes little time, as it opens with Patrick being struck in the face by a bottle tossed from a moving vehicle. Rushed to his father's clinic, there's nothing much he can do to bring back his son to the land of the not comatose.

Not sure who threw the bottle, Dr. Herschel decides to invite a strange mish-mash of people to his palatial house/clinic with the hope that Patrick might be able to finger the culprit by using his psychic abilities.

In charge of making sure the doctor's guests are taken care of is his secretary, Lydia Grant (Andrea Beliore); a blondish woman who moves her arms when she walks outside. (Huh?) Oh, it's just something I noticed. If you pay close attention to Mrs. Grant when she walks, you'll notice she doesn't swing her arms as much when she walks indoors. But once you get this gal outside, she's a regular orangutan (This just in: Blonde Italian girl-monkey escapes from local zoo).

The five people invited are as follows: Stella Randolph (Mariangela Giordano), a fierce brunette with dangerous curves, Cheryl Kraft (Carmen Russo), a fierce brunette with dangererous... You know what? Let's change things up a bit and call Mrs. Kraft a dangerous brunette with fierce curves. And the guys include the hunky David Davis (Paolo Giusti), Peter Suniak (John Benedy), he's with Stella, and Lyndon Kraft (Franco Silva), Cheryl's politician husband.

Since David Davis is the only guest who's not accompanied by a fierce and/or dangerous curvy brunette, he seeks out Meg (Anna Veneziano), the maid, who's definitely brunette. (But is she fierce?) Um, she tells him to go to hell when they first meet. Is that fierce enough for you? (I guess.) Anyway, I liked how David says "she seems nice" after being told to go to hell.

Meanwhile, down in the doctor's super-secret laboratory, naked test subjects (who are hooked up to machines covered in blinking lights) are twitching on gurneys in a room that is being bathed in this weird green light. As this is going on, Patrick lies in a catatonic state in an adjacent room (by the way, his room is being bathed in purple light as supposed to green light). To give the lab scenes an even more sci-fi vibe, the soundtrack erupts with the kind of spacey music you might in a 1950s alien invasion movie every time the action moves to the lab.

Unaware of what's going on in the lab, the guests chill out by the pool. I'm no expert when it comes to humans, but I don't think Stella and Cheryl like one another.

Quick question: How is Lydia Grant supposed to stay hydrated if Patrick keeps breaking the glasses she's about to drink from? If I was her, I would be severely annoyed.

After a rather uneventful dinner, Cheryl slips out of her slit-heavy black dress (no stockings!) and heads to the bathroom to admire her hardy bush in the mirror. Indicating to her husband that she is ready to be mounted in a manner that can best be described as "sexual," Cheryl gestures sheepishly toward her aching vagina. Clearly uninterested, Lyndon tells her, "maybe tomorrow." What a tool.

It serves right when Patrick cooks his ass in the swimming pool the following morning; a topless Stella is the one who finds his burnt corpse. Even though he wouldn't mount her last night, Cheryl is still distraught by Lyndon's death.

One by one, the doctor's guests are met with circumstances of a supernatural nature. But not before Stella and Cheryl engage in a nasty fight during dinner. Both wearing red, a drunken Stella stumbles into the dinning hall, her open robe revealing a pair of red panties that are doing a piss poor job at keeping her hairy bush under wraps, shouting brunette nonsense at her fellow brunette. An unamused Cheryl jumps to her feet an begins to hurling haphazardly aimed blows in Stella's general direction. Since both brunettes are a tad tipsy, the fight quickly devolves into a horizontal kicking match.

With no clear winner, Stella heads to her room to admire her hairy bush in the bathroom mirror. (Wait, isn't that what Cheryl did earlier in the film?) Yep. So, you see, Stella and Cheryl have more in common than you think. Of course, that doesn't mean they should be best friends. I mean, if everyone who liked to admire their furry junk in the bathroom mirror got along with one another, the world would be a much nicer place.

In my favourite scene, Lydia Grant goes to visit Patrick down in the lab after receiving a message from him on her typewriter that said, "I'm waiting for you." While sitting beside Patrick's bed, Lydia notices that she is starting to feel a tad chilly. Looking down at her pleated skirt, Lydia realizes the reason she's feeling chilly is because Patrick is slowly hiking it up using his mind. Hike that skirt up, you glassy-eyed pervert! Hike it up! Hike it up with your mind! Swooooosh!

I wonder if I should attempt to describe the gruesome scene that involves an unwilling vagina being stabbed by a large, floating metal rod? No, I think I'll pass. I will say this, though, the scene in question is surprisingly graphic. In fact, I would recommend that all vagina owners tread lightly when watching this particular scene, as it could cause unwanted psychological irregularities to occur the next time you want to use your vagina for reproductive or recreational purposes.

Speaking of vaginas, since Cheryl and Stella have already put their hairy holes on display, it's time for Lydia and Meg to get their boxes out. The former does so in the lab; she masturbates on a couch for Patrick. And the latter does so while lurking the halls in an improperly cinched robe. One of these instances ends with what I consider to be one of the most realistic dog attacks I have ever seen captured on film. What's most impressive is that's there were no, as far as I could tell, puppet dog heads used in this scene. Looking over the credits, I shouldn't have been surprised by the quality of the makeup effects, as Rosario Prestopino (Burial Ground, Delirium, Amazonia, and countless others) is the one responsible for them in this movie.

(Aren't you forgetting something?) This movie rules? (No, who's bush is onscreen the longest?) Oh, that. It's hard to say, really. But if I had to take a guess, I would say it was either Andrea Belfiore's Lydia or Mariangela Giordano's Stella. I'm sorry I couldn't be more specific. Anyway, if you like suspenseful thrillers that are well-acted and made with a Hitchcockian flair, you should go with the original Patrick. However, if you're like me (and why wouldn't you be?), and you dig watching attractive Italian chicks act insane in the vicinity of their impotent male companions, go with Patrick Still Lives.