Delirio caldo (1972)

User Rating:

5.6/10   

Director:

Renato Polselli

Writer:

Renato Polselli (writer)

Release Date:

5 July 1972 (Italy)

Genre:

Horror | Mystery | Thriller

Plot:

A respected doctor becomes the prime suspect in a series of gruesome murders. |

Plot Keywords:

Doctor | Murder | Mystery Killer | Deeply Disturbed Person | Mysterious Death

Cast

Mickey Hargitay	...	Herbert Lyutak
Rita Calderoni	...	Marcia Lyutak
Raul Lovecchio	...	Inspector Edwards (as Raoul)
Carmen Young	...	Bonita (US version only)
Christa Barrymore	...	Joaquine
Tano Cimarosa	...	John Lacey
rest of cast listed alphabetically:
Marcello Bonini Olas	...	Barman
Katia Cardinali	...	Miss Heindrich
William Darni	...	Willy
Stefania Fassio	...	First victim (as Steffy Steffen)
Stefano Oppedisano	...	Journalist (International version only)
Cristina Perrier

Also Known As:

Death at the Villa (USA) (longer version)
Delirium (USA) (dubbed version)

Runtime:

102 min | USA:85 min (re-edited American version) | Belgium:90 min (video)

Country:

Italy

Language:

Italian

Color:

Color

Aspect Ratio:

1.85 : 1

Sound Mix:

Mono

Certification:

USA:Not Rated | Italy:VM18

Filming Locations:

Rome, Lazio, Italy

Movie Connections:

Featured in Theorem of Delirium (2002) (V)

DELIRIUM {International Version} (Renato Polselli, 1972) **1/2

Though I had long toyed with the idea of acquiring this one on DVD (the recent Blue Underground re-issue being particularly cheap) – not least because it contained two different versions of the film – I was always dissuaded by the extremely mixed reaction it seemed to elicit from viewers. Now that I've watched it too, I can better understand this reasoning – indeed, I feel much the same myself. If anything, one has to admit the fact that rarely was a giallo better served by its lurid title: the last half-hour of this one is truly demented, folks! Besides, it has the guts to give away the identity of the serial killer from the outset: as played by Mickey Hargitay, actually, he's not that much of a stretch from his trademark role of The Crimson Executioner in BLOODY PIT OF HORROR (1965) – which I also only recently watched for the first time.

So far, so good: for the first 75 minutes or so, we get a number of more or less traditional slayings and their ensuing police investigation (the latter are aided by psychiatrist Hargitay himself – playing a character hilariously named Lyutack!). However, at least, one eye-witness is able to connect the star to the first murder…and, here, comes the catch: Hargitay's wife (luscious Rita Calderoni) is so blindly devoted to her hubby – despite his being a self-confessed "mad impotent"! – that, to draw the cops' suspicion away from him, she notches up a trio of victims for herself while he's in their company!! Having said that, the director throws in a lame red herring by placing a slick little car-park attendant (played by Tano Cimarosa and who has a tendency to break into English slang – his role actually grows in stature as the film goes along) at the time and place of at least one of these additional murders. Here, then, lies the film's major fault: while it's certainly unusual, thus interesting, Polselli's treatment can perhaps best be described as hypnotically inept – anyone familiar with Jess Franco's more idiosyncratic output from the 1970s will know what I mean!

However, nothing that had occurred until now (not even Calderoni's occasional nightmares of lesbian orgies in a dungeon, witnessed by an aroused but chained-up Hargitay!) could have prepared me for the denouement…which is so thoroughly off-the-wall that it's rather hard doing it justice by way of mere description – it's truly a climax that has to be seen to be believed! Much of this has to do with the utterly unhinged ravings of both Calderoni and Christa Barrymore (her character only really comes into play during this latter section: she's Hargitay's niece who, however, harbors an unhealthy affection for Auntie!). Calderoni goes off her rocker first, because she had earlier tortured and attempted to gas the maid who got wise to her murderous habits (of which even Hargitay is unaware)…but the scene was witnessed by Cimarosa (having suspected Hargitay all along, he breaks into the doctor's home to search for possible clues), who saved her at the last minute and the maid has now confessed everything to the Police. Incidentally, the latter are a mostly ineffectual bunch: at one point, they even cause a female collaborator of theirs (she's actually used as bait to lure the supposed killer into the open, Hargitay claiming to have arrived at the exact place and time of 'his' next strike by way of extensive metereopsychic[?!] research) – who, having found evidence that could incriminate Hargitay, unwisely decides to confide in Calderoni first – to drop from the eight floor of a building!!

Anyway, Calderoni is terrorized of being caught (somewhat sadistically, Barrymore plays a recording of an angry mob which Calderoni believes are at their front door – this is another element which is thrown in without any rhyme or reason, just like the subplot involving Hargitay's trysts with a female student that prolong the film for no discernible reason). When Hargitay and then the Police appear on the scene, the doctor is willing to give himself up (he's clearly lost his marbles, too, screaming repeatedly at his own reflection in a mirror and at the top of his lungs, "You're a hyena!") …but it's Barrymore's turn to go nuts and summarily beats Hargitay to a pulp with a ball and chain for having turned her beloved aunt into a murderess! Eventually, the Police are shown the way in by Cimarosa – where they're greeted by a ghastly sight, as all three persons inside are dead: Barrymore having also strangled Calderoni but who, before perishing, had managed to drive a rake into the former's neck!

Interestingly, composer Gianfranco Reverberi is given a prominent place in the credits – soon after the two leads i.e. before even the supporting cast!; that said, his contribution is significant and versatile (alternating between sleazy lounge and percussion-heavy rock). Equally odd is the fact that the picture concludes with a montage of some of its highlights – with the emphasis, unsurprisingly, on those bits involving sex and violence! For the record, I'd be interested in checking out the alternate and much shorter U.S. version (which inserts new characters and even makes Hargitay a shell-shocked Vietnam vet – a plot point which, apparently, the star came up with himself!) but not enough perhaps to buy a copy of the DVD. In the meantime, I'll be following this with Polselli's even more outrageous and nonsensical THE REINCARNATION OF ISABEL (1973) – in which virtually the entire cast and crew of DELIRIUM return for a second helping…