Streaming the 1970s via two bottom-of-the-barrel Bava movies: the Giallo-esque 5 DOLLS FOR AN AUGUST MOON and LISA & THE DEVIL

For anyone who knows Italian director, cinematographer and sometimes writer Mario Bava (above) via his best film Kidnapped (aka Rabid Dogs) or even his most widely-known movie, Black Sunday, streaming some of his lower-end work may come as surprise. Bava did an awful lot of work-for-hire, precisely at the time when the Italian giallo movies were all the rage, and some of these are, well, pretty terrible, though even at their silliest, they contain some nice cinematography and alternately creative and cheesily entertaining moments. So, for film buffs willing to try anything, both of the below might be worth a recommendation.

Giallo queen Edwige Fenech (below and upside down) is prominent in the ensemble cast of 5 DOLLS FOR AN AUGUST MOON (1970), the title of which proves one of the more meaningless in movie history. Yes, I believe there are five corpses in the pantry by movie's end but a couple of these are men, and I don't recall noticing a moon anywhere. Still, you can expect lots of blood and little sense (seemingly a neces-sary combination in far too many of the giallo I've experien-ced) by the time the movie rolls to its end.

The plot plunks down several couples on a tropical island. One fellow, above, is a scientist with a special "formula" the other men want to buy. He won't sell, so murder ensues. The movie opens with shots of a nubile young lass (below) running about and spying on the "adults." Keep her in your view for full plot enjoyment.

Otherwise, it's pretty much the old Ten Little Indians thing, as one after another of our cast falls away. Bava only directed and edited here but had no hand in the screenplay. The movie is pretty, bloody and short (it runs only 78 minutes).  Oh, yes -- and the Netflix transfer is NOT in high definition.

LISA & THE DEVIL (from 1973), on the other hand, is of the classier sort, and runs 95 too-long minutes. It also boasts a hi-def transfer on Netflix and a cast made up of actors who, though definitely slumming, were probably raking in enough money to make it worth their while. These would include the stately and beautiful actress, Alida Valli (below, center), along with bald TV star Telly Savalas (below, right). You might also include Elke Sommer in this group, though Ms Sommer never had quite the career of the other two.

Here we have the story (using this word is quite a stretch) of a pretty tourist (Sommer, clad in an odd combo of blue and green) in Spain, getting off her bus for a look around and discovering Mr. Savalas' devilish image on a mural and then finding him in the flesh in a small shop off the village square.

Frightened, she gets lost and hitches a ride with a wealthy couple and their chauffeur, and when their car breaks down, the quartet finds itself at the mansion of a family for whom Savalas acts as butler. Of course they spend the night, and most of them die by morning.

This is one of those extremely dysfunctional family movies in which one character (Sommer) looks exactly like someone important from the family's past. Saving graces include some titillating nudity, a gorgeous young man (Alessio Orano, above) who plays the Valli character's son, and Savalas, using this nonsense as an opportunity to camp it up rather spectacularly -- for maximum audience enjoyment.

Bava had a hand in the screenplay of this one (no great shakes). The movie relies far too much on repetitive and silly visual "effects" that may have been a bit new in their time but by now just look faintly ridiculous. Still, for those inclined, both films can now be streamed -- along with an amazing amount of other giallo movies -- via Netflix.

Bravo, Bava! Mario's RABID DOGS (aka Kidnap-ped)--his best film--proves a streaming "must"

When one thinks of that 1960s-70s Italian filmmaker Mario Bava, horror, slasher and/or giallo movies first come to mind. This is because, till now, most of us have not been given the chance to see what is hands-down Bava's best film: a little heist-followed-by-kidnap movie called KIDNAPPED (in the original Italian Come cani arrabbiati or Rabid Dogs), which has been resurrected in an excellent Italian-language-with-English-subtitles version, given a hi-def transfer and is currently being streamed via Netflix.

Though best-known for a film -- Black Sunday -- that, despite its gorgeous and chilling black-and-white cinematography and a malevolent performance from Barbara Steele, doesn't hold up so well as any kind of a champ in the horror genre, it is this tight and absolutely right, ground-breaking thriller (his penultimate film, made in 1974) that is going to be remembered. This one holds up about as well as a forty-year-old film in this crowded genre has any right to do. Here, Signore Bava (shown at right) proves himself a master of suspense, surprise, black humor and much more. This film is so much better than so many other more widely-heralded genre pieces that attention really ought to be paid.

The film begins with a terrifically well-done heist scene (above), followed by a spectacular chase which leads to (maybe accidental) murder and a kidnapping (below)

and then to yet another kidnapping (below) --

leaving our three perps (below)

and their three victims (two of which are shown below; the other is a sick and sleeping infant),

stuck together in a car for an extraordinarily lengthy time (camerawork in the tight interior of the car is first-rate), which Bava puts to amazingly good use, with believable, exciting stops and starts.

The best of these involves an escape attempt in which the escapee is caught and forced to pee in front of her captors. This must have been ground-breaking stuff back in '74 (still is, actually), and while it is raw and rough, it never goes over the top into camp or the grossly bloody stuff we find in so many horror or giallo films.

How Bava and his screenwriter Alessandro Parenzo handle all this -- the logic of it, the twists and turns, the simply stunning climax and denouement (as darkly surprising as I wager you've seen) is exemplary.

The cast turns in exemplary performances, too: from Riccardo Cucciolla (above), as the quiet, reasonable father of the sick child, to the frightened-to-the-edge woman (Lea Lander, below) who has seen her neighbor slaughtered and now must put up with kidnapping and the attention of the two crazies who keep threatening rape.

Oddly enough it is one of those crazies who turns in the film's most memorable performance: a tall, rangy, very sexy actor named George Eastman (above, right, and below) who plays a fellow nicknamed 32. This won't mean much to us Americans, unless we realize that Italians are on the metric system, in which 32 centimeters translates into a little more than 12-1/2 inches, which should begin to bring 32's unusually ample anatomy into better focus.

There's another ground-breaking scene in which 32 pulls out his piece (Bava's camera remains discreetly in the front seat), hardens it up and insists that his victim service him. While this guy and his friend and accomplice (nicknamed "Blade" for the knife he sports--and uses) are surely reprehensible types whom you want to see put out of their misery, by film's end you can't help feeling a bit sorry for them, too, as opposed to the heartless guy in charge, called Doc, who radiates a nasty, evil, uncaring intelligence.

After viewing this little B-movie wonder, one wonders: Had Rabid Dogs/Kidnapped appeared toward the beginning of Bava's career rather than its end, might he have chosen to work more often in a different genre?

Whatever: The movie can be seen now on Netflix streaming, while the newly re-mastered Blu-ray edition, from Kino Classics, can also be purchased from the usual suspects.