LIZARD IN A WOMAN'S SKIN

From the fog shrouded castles, necrophilia romances, and grand decadent atmosphere of the traditional Italian Gothic so very popular throughout the 1960's to the psycho-sexual decadence inherent in the Giallo (an intensely violent, provocative species of the murder mystery), Italian horror cinema has never been shy about crossing boundaries of taste. This fertile period of creativity shed blood, cum, and debauchery in equal portion, raping the mind's eye of a self-satisfied culture numbed into passivity by Hollywood genre fare that offered as little true terror or titillation as it did style. Intensely graphic, wallowing in lovingly depicted viscera, these films proved as interested in exposing cultural hypocrisy, political oppression, and the savagery of the often inhuman human-condition as they were in flinging innards. A filmmaker whose defiance of authority was as striking as the blood-and-sex drenched images layering his amoral splatter-ballets of nihilistic wonder, Fulci is best known for the gleefully excessive gut-muncher Zombie (1979) and the hyper violent, atmospheric cycle of films including City Of The Living Dead (1980), The Black Cat (1981), The Beyond ( 1981), and House By The Cemetery (1981). Yet before the moral outrage, dark fantasy, and violence of the 80s, he helped pioneer the final innovations of the Giallo, began years before by Mario Bava (who Fulci confessed to admiring) and Argento. While not as influential to the thriller genre as these two gentlemen, Fulci brought an admirable sense of character, pacing, and terseness to the formula, making his uniquely emotional, socially conscious thrillers uniquely his own (and in some cases surpassing Argento in plot coherence and mood). Already having tackled the 'Love Me' generation of the 70s with One On Top Of The Other, a surprisingly sensitive 'understated' murder mystery, Fulci stretched his directorial abilities with Lizard In A Woman's Skin.

A hallucinatory conflict between the desires and fears of the subconscious tucked inside the kernel of a routine murder-mystery, this carefully structured thriller merges hallucinatory dreamscapes with the torments and desires of the mind. Carl (Florinda Bolkan) is the daughter of an influential politician Edmund Brighton (Leo Genn) and the wife of a jet-setting business man -- she also happens to be tormented by deep routed psychological dementia and fixations with her 'hippy' neighbor Julia Durer (Anita Strindberg), whose lesbian tendencies and drug experimentation represents for her (and the middle class) all that is wrong with that day's younger society. Carol complains to her psychiatrist of alarmingly real, violent sexual nightmares right before she wakes one morning to find that her upstairs neighbor has been butchered. Carol becomes the prime suspect while her father unearths a familial blackmail scheme, and Carol's daughter-in-law is murdered. The twisting contortions of this tightly written and structured murder mystery merge surprising realism with the surrealist imaginings of a depraved mind, rushing Carol and her family towards a bleak orgy of culpability, murder, and tragedy.

Lacking the gore and hyper violence that would characterize the best of his later work, and missing the surreal atmosphere dependent on the fantastical situations that would breath such malignance into The Beyond, Lizard exhibited the director's nihilism and disenchantment with the human race. Important as a first rate 'who-done-it,' this giallo is also an essential example of the director's ability to create an intelligent, complex, emotionally involving story when granted the proper screenplay and budget. Released by Media Blasters, a company that continues building a unique DVD catalogue for devotees of genre, Lizard In A Woman's Skin is a crime thriller that makes up for in emotional involvement what it lacks in visual excess. Of course Fulci's aesthetic taste and approach is the power that energizes the cast and story patterns, making what may have been a routine 'who-done-it?' with emotional poignancy and a unique sense of psycho-sexual immediacy, predating many of the genre's later explorations of eroticism and death. A maligned poet of the perverse who delighted in peeling back the raw exterior of existence to probe the intestines beneath, Fulci defied the knee-jerk philosophy of traditional conservative cinema, employing ultra-violent examinations of the flesh and surreal to study the chaotic bleakness informing all existence.

With a camera lavishing detail on decrepit images of decadence and moralistic decay, Fulci displays an ability to force audiences weaned on the laughably rigid morality of Hollywood horror to investigate new possibilities of physical corruption and emotional lethargy - themes largely ignored by directors who lacked the nerve or aesthetic sense required to treat the macabre and tragic in a dignified manner. Despised by censors, reviled by proponents of subtle terror, and a victim to both the political/economical factions of his native film industry, Fulci's increasing thematic obsession with decay, moral corruption, and the questionable integrity of perception -- the very tool by which we define reality and one's place in a larger spiritual and physical context of an often malignant universe -- is very much on display in Lizard. Fulci crafts a geography of fear, grue, and isolation. In the chaotic center of triumphant decay, moral ambiguity, and repressed sexuality, Fulci's vision imbues the film with infectious enthusiasm and philosophic vitality.

When Shriek Show first released Lizard In A Woman's Skin (2005), message boards across the internet found fault with the presentation. While such groups are often inconsequential pits of derogatory flaming, this time the gripe was valid. While by no means as horrible as many claimed, this early version, culled from an old AIP print, did lack material. As a bonus, then, the studio added to the package an English, Full Frame print of the Italian version, albeit with murky colors and soft imagery. Making good on their promise to do better, Shriek Show cannot be faulted any longer, presenting in this re-release a single disc remaster that is the most complete version of the film available. Several new scenes of nudity, carnage, and character/story development have been added, including the hallucinatory segment wherein Carol wanders through masses of naked people at a train station, additional lesbian footage, more of Strindberg's breasts (always a good thing), additional Carlo Rambaldi effects, and, most impressive, an undistorted scene of Carol murdering her neighbor, without the clumsy visual distortion used to emphasize the possibility that this was a dream in past incarnations. A handful of other changes are evident as well, perhaps more if you have the time to really study the picture. This disk is obviously a work of love, and essential for the Fulci library.

Visual quality itself is clean and crisp -- a bit too crisp in spots, similar in its over-exposure to the studio's anniversary release of Zombi. Perhaps I'm used to murkier prints but both Lizard and Zombi appear too bright, too clean, taking something away from the murky poetic darkness usually found in them. Still, the picture is an improvement in clarity, and colors consistent. Skin tones are realistic and the surreal scenes heightened by sharp swirling colors. Very minor scratches and grain appear here and there but never enough to truly worry about. Audio is just as pleasing, including options in English 5.1 and 2.0 mono as well as an Italian track in 2.0 mono (with additional subs). For the most authentic experience, I suggest listening to the Italian language.

Extras are not half as informative or generous as Shriek Show's original 2-disk package, which was a triumph in supplementary material. Still, there is plenty of contextual and aesthetic information to be had, including a gallery of Fulci trailers to set the mood. Of the other features the most impressive is a lengthy, informative discussion on the art of Fulci with specific comments on this title by one Prof. Paolo Albiero, which happens to be seeped in philosophical interpretations of the material without lapsing into academia. While one can hardly agree with all of his assumptions, such as his general disdain for the gothic thrillers for which Fulci is primarily remembered, the Prof. has much to share, particularly in regards to the film's tradition of censorship problems. The supplements end with a less memorable if appreciated Italian title sequence. While one misses the documentary material available on the first release of the film, including its wealth of interviews, the overall quality and completeness of this DVD makes it THE way to experience the Lizard.

Review by William P. Simmons