Giallo time again--with the Blu-ray release of Duccio Tessari/THE BLOODSTAINED BUTTERLY

Giallo lovers can, if not rejoice, get at least a little excited by the new Blu-ray release of a would-be giallo with the alliterative, if crass title, THE BLOOD-STAINED BUTTERFLY (Una farfalla con le ali insanguinate). The movie is much more a plain old mystery thriller -- and not a particularly good one, at that -- than it is a giallo, a genre that usually revels in blood and gore and beautiful women getting killed in grisly set pieces. All this would be commendable, were the movie very good on any level. Instead, it's merely passable entertainment for the nostalgia set.

What it does have is a very young and handsome Helmut Berger (above, of various Visconti movies and The Garden of the Finzi-Continis) in the kind of silly role that would presage much of his remaining career. The actor is still at it, actually, having now made some 64 film and TV appearances, the latest of which has recently completed production. (In the extras on the Blu-ray disc is a present-day interview with the actor, the viewing of which will make you marvel anew at what the ravages of time can do to even the most handsome of men.)

The filmmaker here, one Duccio Tessari (shown at right), is pretty much unknown to American audiences (including giallo aficionados), and if this film is a good indication of his output, that status would seem perfectly appropriate. This writer/director proves certainly adequate in turning out a genre movie, But despite the rather glowing comments offered up about Tessari and this film by giallo author Troy Howarth, yours truly feels less inclined to perceive this filmmaker as anything special.

By the end of this meandering film, which lacks much suspense, pacing or even plot, you may feel as did TrustMovies that your time might have been better spent. Having said that, I must admit I initially found the film engaging, due to a few unusual things this director and co-writer (with Gianfranco Clerici) does.

At the film's beginning, we're introduced to many of its character by name (and sometimes by occupation) via identifying titles (which I initially mistook for the names of further cast members -- until the words, "a lawyer" appeared on screen). We also get a soupçon of humor via a police inspector who proves very fussy about the quality of his morning coffee.

Along the way we get to view some gorgeous Italian architecture, as well (the film was shot in Bergamo, Lombardy), and the director does seem to have an occasional eye, as above, for spatial relationships and people placement.  There is also some interesting courtroom pyrotechnics to keep us occupied -- even if, finally, much of what happens seems over-manufactured and -manipulated.

The acting is problematic throughout, with Berger becoming so very dramatic and bizarre at odd times that you expect the character playing opposite him to beat a speedy exit for fear for her life. Other actors do better, and on the disc's extras you'll get to see and hear some of them (like Ida Galli/aka Evelyn Stewart, below) talk about what happened way back when.

Mostly the movie is given to introducing its murder suspects -- three or four of them -- and then letting the mystery unravel... very slowly. That titular bloodstained butterfly finally appears close to the movie's end and seems about as germane to the proceedings as would, say, a shit-stained salamander.

There is also a scene with kids in yellow (giallo, get it?) raincoats running around, which leads to the discovery of the first victim, and later to another victim, who proves a bit more closely related to those children. The finale, however, while somewhat surprising, remains more ludicrous than anything else. And the over-the-top manner in which Tessari filmed it simply adds to the ridiculousness on hand.

The movie does take in its special time -- 1971 (a year in which, according to Mr. Howarth, some 25 giallo movies were released in Italy!) -- with a nod to the fashions, as well as to politics and philosophy (during the film one character mentions that there's no longer any art for art's sake, and a protester carries a banner reading Art Beyond Status).

From Arrow Video, distributed here by MVD Entertainment Group, and running 99 minutes, the movie -- a "must," I would guess, for giallo completists -- makes its Blu-ray and DVD debuts this coming Tuesday, August 23 -- for sale and/or rental. As is usual with most of these Arrow titles, the Blu-ray transfer is a very good one. And the "extras" are every bit as informative, entertaining and interesting (more so, actually) than the movie itself.

Open Roads 2013: HANDMADE CINEMA--Guido Torlonia's feast of movie memorabilia

For those of you who appreciated last year's look at the work of famed Italian production designer Dante Ferretti (above, left), I suspect you'll find this year's documentary nod to Italian cinema history even more of a treat. In it we see not just Ferretti and his oft-times collaborator Francesca Lo Schiavo (above, right), but so many of the amazing artisans (or let's just call them "artists," as Signore Ferretti politely points out) who do the wonderful carpentry, sculpture, costumes, furniture, millinery work and so much more that have gone into great Italian cinema down the decades -- and is still going on, or maybe barely hanging on. But it's there. And now, with this terrific little film, we're made aware.

Here we meet everyone from the hat- and wig-makers (above) to the jewelers and each is as fascinating, fun and charming as you could want. We watch them work and see some of their hits from ages (and films) past. For those of us of a certain age, this is spectacular and highly nostalgic. If names like Piero Tosi, Maurizio Millenotti and Gabriella Pescucci don't immediately ring a bell, they will once you've viewed this film.

We learn about Sophia Loren's famous wigs, watch a father and son (above) grow annoyed with each other (but keep it all under wraps), and learn that the folk who build the sets are indeed actual furniture makers, carpenters and construction people who know what they are doing -- and do it right.

The costumes from The Leopard?  They're here, all right. The hats worn by Silvana Mangano in  Death in Venice?  Ah, yes! And we're told about and see the paintings of the recreated Sistine Chapel from the half-century-old Agony and the Ecstasy.

The documentary is a wonderful paean to the hand-crafters who have made Italian cinema the wonder that it is. As someone notes, during the course of the film, "If you want to invest in Italy, invest in the crafts!" With a fine narration by Chiara Mastroianni, who tells us lovingly about visiting the sets on which her famous father labored, the film works its magic doubly. And the ending, with Chiara as a little girl, is simply exquisite, enchanting.

Handmade Cinema, directed by Guido Torlonia (shown at right) and written by Torlonia and Laura Delli Colli, runs just 52 minutes and plays twice at Open Roads in the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center: on Friday, June 7, at 3:45 and again Sunday, June 9, also at 3:45. On the program with this documentary is another doc -- The Rescue, by Giovanna Taviani (click and scroll down)-- which I have not seen but will during its public screenings at Open Roads, so I will report on it at that time.  To view the entire Open Roads program, click here.