(What does grey velvet have to do with a goddamn thing? All I saw was red velvet. Is someone color-blind?)
CAST: Michael Brandon, Mimsy Farmer, Bud Spencer, Francine Racette, Jean-Pierre Marielle, Marisa Fabbri, Calisto Calisti.
DIRECTOR: Dario Argento
WARNING: SPOILERS and amazingly unlikable protagonists right up ahead.
After the back-to-back successes of THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE and THE CAT O'NINE TAILS, Dario Argento - the "Italian Hitchcock" - decided to tweak the "Giallo" formula even further. Whereas the first two films dealt with innocent by-standers who find themselves cruelly thrust into the middle of a deadly conundrum not of their doing, Argento's third foray into the realm of suspense revolves around a protagonist who - while not exactly guilty - is far from innocent. It's quite a gamble to create a thriller where the hero is less likable than the villain, but that's what Argento has done here. It doesn't entirely pan out, but you have to admire him for being so daring - especially back in 1972. Fortunately, FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET also boasts some outstanding suspense set-pieces and is the film that really begins to establish Argento's baroque and rococo visual style. In comparison, the visuals of BIRD and CAT seem almost bland in comparison, even though they had stronger plots.
Our hero this time is Roberto Tobias (Michael Brandon), an American drummer in an Italian band that plays what can best be described as groovy porno music. Or maybe it's just because I always associate 70's music with groovy porno movies. Whatever. When FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET starts, Roberto already has a problem. Seems he's got a stalker. Before you roll your eyes and say, "Big deal. He's a musician. Of course, he's got a stalker," allow me to clarify that this is not your average stalker because: (1) it's a man wearing a business suit, (2) he never asks for an autograph, (3) and doesn't seem to appreciate Roberto's music.
At any rate, one particular night after a jamming session, Roberto notices his Own Personal Psycho standing at the edge of the parking lot - and confronts him. The stalker runs off and leads Roberto into an abandoned theatre, where our musician hero demands to know why he's being shadowed. In response, the man pulls a knife on Roberto. A struggle ensues, and Roberto accidentally stabs the man, who topples into the orchestra pit. Before Roberto can do anything, he looks up to the balcony and sees: a masked person taking pictures of him and the murder scene. Then the person disappears, leaving Roberto to basically crap his pants over (1) having killed someone, (2) having it witnessed by another someone, and (3) having the whole thing recorded on camera.
Sure enough, the next day Roberto receives the dead man's I.D. in the mail. In case he's dumb enough to mistake that as a fluke, during a party thrown by his wife Nina (Mimsy Farmer) at their house, he also finds pictures of his stalker's "murder" - right next to the stereo. Obviously left by one of the guests. But who? Is someone trying to blackmail him? Who was the guy he accidentally stabbed? Who was the person who took the pictures? Were they working together? Why is the blackmailer making nightly visits to his house to threaten him? Why is Nina talking like a falsetto boy? What's up with that goddamn title?
Anyhow, sensing that something is wrong with her husband, Nina questions Roberto - who shows that he's a good husband by: (1) yelling at her, (2) turning his back on her, (3) and sulking like a champ on the sofa. Nina, clearly a better person than me, just takes his abuse and persists until he tells her the whole story. Horrified, she suggests that they leave. In a shocking plot twist, Roberto ignores her and does what he wants. Which, in this case, is to go back to bed. What a guy. Asshole.
Things get progressively worse, with the masked blackmailer making more aggressive attacks on Roberto. Concerned, he goes to visit his pal God (Bud Spencer) - short for Godfrey. You'd be forgiven for thinking that this fat tub of lard was actually The Almighty himself because of the choir that sings "Allelujah!" on the soundtrack when his character is first introduced. Hard to say if Argento is trying to inject some droll humor into the proceedings - or has simply gone insane. Anyhow, God advises Roberto to get some help in unraveling the mystery. What are friends for, except to give you "Hello, Captain Obvious" advice?
Roberto hires a private detective named Arrosio who is, not to put too fine a spin on it, a flaming queen. Practically pirouetting around Roberto and threatening to break out into a one-man Pride Parade right then and there, Arrosio makes sure Roberto knows he's gay as a rainbow and even point-blank asks our hero if he has had "a homosexual experience." Personally, I was rolling around on the floor at this scene, full of admiration for Arrosio's (1) self-acceptance, (2) chutzpah, and (3) willingness to become the victim of a vicious hate crime. Fortunately, Roberto is either too clueless to be offended, or too afraid to drop-kick Arrosio across the neighborhood, to do anything but look stunned. Or maybe our, um, queer detective is dead on: Roberto has indeed had a homosexual experience - and it was gooooooooooood. In any case, we'll never know because the movie, sadly, moves on from this potentially interesting plot point.
While Arrosio is busy terrifying (or titillating) Roberto, other intriguing things are happening elsewhere. For instance, Amelia (Marisa Fabbri), the Tobias' maid is busy blackmailing someone that she thinks left all those photos by the stereo. Yup, the hired help is trying to get in on the action. "Look," she cackles into the phone, "I don't care why you're doing it. I just want the money!" Amelia arranges to meet the blackmailer at a local park that afternoon. The only problem is Amelia's a bit of a space cadet, because while she sits on the bench smoking and day-dreaming about early retirement from cleaning people's houses, the park gradually empties out. When she finally snaps out of it, she discovers that: (1) everyone's gone, (2) the park gates are locked, (3) the mysterious blackmailer is inside with her, and (4) she is soooooo fucked. Needless to say, our blackmailer is soon officially promoted to "killer." And Roberto and Nina have a sudden job opening.
Concerned that Amelia's murder may have something to do with Roberto's sticky situation, Nina again begs him to leave with her. And, again, he (1) yells at her, (2) treats her like shit, and (3) sulks like a ten-year old denied a chance to go to Chuck E. Cheese with his friends. Oh, and just in case that's all too gentlemanly, he also fucks Dahlia (Francine Racette), Nina's visiting hot cousin (not that Nina's someone to kick out of bed for eating Pannetone). If you're slowly starting to realize that, for a hero, Roberto's a bit of a fucking prick, then thank you for taking time out of your nap to join us in the conscious realm. Anyhow, our killer - obviously making up for lost time - ramps up the mayhem: Arrosio is murdered in, ahem, a men's room - and, no, he didn't tap his feet against the floor to signify being amenable to some hanky-panky, only to get killed by an undercover cop. Also, Dahlia is left alone in Roberto and Nina's house, and is murdered in the attic after she interrupts one of the killer's nightly visits. Anyone who was expecting her to survive should check the Suspense Movie Manual for the section called "Fates of Home-Wrecking Tramps": living past the end credits is not one of them.
Desperate now, Roberto learns of a "scientific" device that can photograph a murder victim's eyeball and capture that last thing he/she saw. Personally, I wouldn't call that "scientific" so much as "bullshit-ic," but this is an Argento movie and one must play along. Anyhow, the cops photograph Dahlia's eyeball and record what appears to be four flies in a row. No grey velvet, though, so I'm still lost on that part of the title. Anyway, this obviously means that the killer is either: (1) a bunch of pissed-off flies, (2) a person who really stinks, or (3) a person who wears, ahem, some sort of pendant with, double ahem, some sort of fly-like design. Those of you thinking that # 3 is too farfetched are about to be blown out of the water because it appears that someone we know owns such a pendant. In fact, we've seen it around her neck throughout the movie - in yet another one of Argento's "right-in-front-of-your-eyes" tricks.
Yes, folks. Our killer is none other than Nina Tobias, our long-suffering heroine and even longer-suffering wife to Roberto, AKA Prince Asshole. In a gripping climax, Nina pulls a gun on her scumbag husband and breaks down her scheme and motivation: apparently, her father never wanted a daughter and raised her as a boy, beating her into submission and basically driving her bat-shit crazy - and Roberto really, really, really, really reminds her of Pops. I will go off to make myself a cup of tea while y'all let that sink in for a "WTF?" minute or two. Or three or four or five - even fifteen.
Okay, I'm back. So, yup.... For realz, folks: Nina's dad wanted a Junior and forced her to dress up as a boy until she broke down and was institutionalized. While she was locked up, Nina plotted to murder her father. Unfortunately, the bastard rudely died on her before she could be released. Filled with all this pent-up rage and nothing or nobody to unleash it on, Nina set about trying to find a surrogate Daddy to turn into mincemeat. And one fine day, she met an asshole named Roberto.... and the rest is history. Unfortunately, before Nina can do the entire Universe a gigantic favor and blast that dickhead husband of hers to Kingdom Come, who should show up but, um, God to prevent that from happening. Nina, panicking, flees in her car and loses her head - literally, as in she: (1) drives right into the back of a semi, which (2) rips the top of her car off, along with (3) that lovely blond noggin of hers.
And, sadly, Roberto lives to tell the tale. Fucker. Someone needs to revise the Suspense Movie Manual's section on "Fates of Dickhead Heroes."
BUT, SERIOUSLY: Considered the last of Dario Argento's "Animal Trilogy," FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET diverged from the "Giallo" formula that THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE and THE CAT O'NINE TAILS established - to some good results, and to other not-so-good ones. First, unlike the protagonists of BIRD and CAT who were innocent by-standers pulled into the fray by being in the wrong place at the wrong time and inadvertently knowing too much, the hero of FLIES is intrinsically tied to the mystery. In fact, he's the cause of it. Second, while Sam from BIRD and Franco and Carlo from CAT were very likable and sympathetic heroes, Roberto from FLIES is simply unlikable. Treating his wife Nina with such rudeness and then cheating on her with her own cousin, Roberto is a distasteful main character and you have to wonder if Argento was purposefully rebelling against film writing conventions that dictate a hero should be someone audiences identify with. Unfortunately, this causes us to have little concern for what happens to Roberto. In fact, we end up sympathizing with Nina so much that, when it is revealed at the end that she is the one behind the blackmail/murder plot, it is almost heartbreaking. Especially when we find out the cause of her psychosis.
While inverting audience sympathies by making the villain more sympathetic than the hero is a very interesting choice, Argento somewhat weakens the impact of his narrative here. Compared to BIRD and CAT, there isn't as much rising tension in FLIES - mainly because we don't really care what happens to Roberto. This is not to say that there aren't some great set-pieces here, though. In fact, there are a couple of sequences that are very suspenseful indeed: (1) Amelia's stalking sequence in the abandoned park, and (2) Dahlia's attack in the attic. Indeed, these set-pieces pave the way towards similar sequences in future Argento films like SUSPIRIA, TENEBRAE, and DEEP RED. The problem with FLIES, though, is that these scenes provide only sporadic suspense - and not the kind of suspense that builds from setpiece to setpiece the way other films in Argento's oeuvre do. In the end, FLIES can be seen as a transitional film between his first two films which were more straightforward and almost procedural, and his future films which would be more abtract, surreal, and baroque.
The cast is competent. Brandon plays a jerk really well. That may sound like a back-handed compliment, but it isn't. Not sure what he could've done to make Roberto likable, given the way the character treats and cheats on his wife. Bud Spencer and Francine Racette are good as God and Dahlia, respectively. Racette, in particular, evokes major sympathy during her character's attic death scene - which is saying something since we earlier glimpsed her being decidedly unsympathetic by bedding her cousin's husband. Jean-Pierre Marielle lends his quirky character much color, and points should be given to him and Argento for their positive portrayal of a gay character when gay characters were being (and still are to some extent) being misunderstood. Again, further proof that Argento was ahead of his time.
Last, but certainly not least, is Mimsy Farmer as the surprise villainess Nina. While she spends most of the film being passive and reserved, Nina erupts to life in her climactic revelation scene where she shares her twisted history with Roberto. It's a surprisingly affecting scene, that would've been more over-the-top if it wasn't anchored by Nina's sadness. You come to understand why she's doing what she's doing - and considering her husband is a complete jerk, you almost support it. Credit for that empathy should be given to Mimsy Farmer's skills.
All in all, FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET is not as strong as THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE or THE CAT O'NINE TAILS, but it is a worthy final entry in Argento's "Animal Trilogy" - and it helped establish the colorfully abstract style that he would run with in future films.
