George Stark (Teodoro Corrà), a wealthy industrialist, invites several business friends and their partners to his island retreat for the weekend, with the intention of convincing scientist Gerry Farrell (William Berger) to sell his secret formula for a new industrial resin. Philanthropist Gerry isn't interested in making a deal, intending instead to make his invention public, a fact that forces one or more of the guests to turn to murder.
The general consensus seems to be that this is one of director Mario Bava's weakest efforts (even Bava himself was reportedly not fond of the film, being contractually obliged to direct); I can't really comment much on that since I've seen too few of his films to compare, but what I can say is that, even though I found the twists and turns of this Italian variation of Agatha Christie's Ten little Indians virtually impossible to fathom (especially the twist ending), there were still enough positives to make it worth a go.
As with many a giallo, the female cast are very easy on the eye, with genre regular Edwige Fenech stripping off whenever possible as always. There are numerous murders, and although they all occur off-screen (we get to see just the aftermath), the hanging up of the steadily growing number bodies in a meat locker is wonderfully macabre and darkly amusing. The jazzy score is super cool, perfectly complementing the wonderful '60s/'70s architecture and decor of the island's house. And despite Bava's purported disinterest, there is still an unmistakable sense of style, with effective uses of whip-pans and rapid zooms, and at least one stunning scene worthy of a genius, wherein a display of glass balls roll down a spiral staircase, along the floor, and into a bathtub where a woman has committed suicide.
All said and done, if this is his worst, I really must check out his best.
The general consensus seems to be that this is one of director Mario Bava's weakest efforts (even Bava himself was reportedly not fond of the film, being contractually obliged to direct); I can't really comment much on that since I've seen too few of his films to compare, but what I can say is that, even though I found the twists and turns of this Italian variation of Agatha Christie's Ten little Indians virtually impossible to fathom (especially the twist ending), there were still enough positives to make it worth a go.
As with many a giallo, the female cast are very easy on the eye, with genre regular Edwige Fenech stripping off whenever possible as always. There are numerous murders, and although they all occur off-screen (we get to see just the aftermath), the hanging up of the steadily growing number bodies in a meat locker is wonderfully macabre and darkly amusing. The jazzy score is super cool, perfectly complementing the wonderful '60s/'70s architecture and decor of the island's house. And despite Bava's purported disinterest, there is still an unmistakable sense of style, with effective uses of whip-pans and rapid zooms, and at least one stunning scene worthy of a genius, wherein a display of glass balls roll down a spiral staircase, along the floor, and into a bathtub where a woman has committed suicide.
All said and done, if this is his worst, I really must check out his best.