Artivels Undescribable Perfection

TinsHeadline Touches You

Cathardincu Surprisingly incoherent and boring

BelSports This is a coming of age storyline that you've seen in one form or another for decades. It takes a truly unique voice to make yet another one worth watching.

LeonLouisRicci This Seminal "Giallo" Film, Directed by Mario Bava, is one of those that was "Split" into Two Versions. The International and the American. While there are certainly "Differences" in the Two in terms of Tone, Musical Score, and other "Insertions" and Cuts, it Remains Influential and Interesting in Both Versions.Leticia Roman and John Saxon are in front of the Bava Visuals and Roman is Strikingly Beautiful as a Harrowed Heroine and Her Acting is Superb. Saxon, on the other hand Over Emotes although is Adequate as a "Sidekick" to the Leading Lady.The Film is Sighted as the First "Giallo", however Bava's (and in Color) "Blood and Black Lace" (1964) is a Better Introduction and Fully Fledged. By the way, this is Bava's last Black and White Movie and His use of Color is Predominantly the Signature Style of this Italian Auteur.That's not to say His B&W Films lack Style. This, along with "Black Sunday" (1960) are Great Examples of a Director of Photography who could Illuminate and Shoot Striking Images in any Format. All of Bava's Movies are Visually Stunning, Creative, and Fun. His use of the Medium as an Artist's Playground was Immensely Influential for other Practitioners and Directors.The Story can be Befuddling to Follow, especially in the American Version, but it Matters Not. The Agatha Christie Mystery Formula is there as are the Twists and Turns, Red Herrings, and when all's Said and Done the Movie is Fun, Great Looking, and an Example of Mario Bava's Style (Eye) that made His Movies Magnificent Mini-Masterpieces in the B-Movie Market.Bava's Groundbreaking way of Making Movies has Gained and Maintained a Legacy of Legendary Status and is Commented Upon Repeatedly to this Day by Film-Makers and Fans.

Lechuguilla There are at least two film versions of this story. One is the English translation known as "The Evil Eye" a watered-down version of the original Italian construction called "The Girl Who Knew Too Much." The two versions differ in score and plot points. This review pertains to my viewing of "The Girl Who Knew Too Much."I would describe the film as a suspenseful murder mystery, one of the first Italian Giallos. Probably the best element is that wonderful B&W lighting consisting of overhead and side lighting that puts faces and objects in deep shadows. Outdoor settings at night are especially creepy. Water-glass camera effects suggest hallucination and delusion. And there are some terrifically unsettling POV camera shots.In one sequence the lead character enters a building at night. She arrives by elevator on an upper floor. No one else is visible, but hallway lights hanging from the ceiling sway back and forth, and someone is talking to her. As she approaches the room to which she had previously been invited, the light in the room suddenly goes dark. We see her silhouette as she stands at the entrance of the darkened room.The script contains relatively few characters. The two leads are a young female American tourist named Nora Davis (Leticia Roman) and a youthful Italian doctor named Dr. Bassi (John Saxon). The plot is acceptable. But I successfully guessed the identity of the killer fairly early which, to me, suggests that the plot could have been a little more subtle and the murderer less obvious. On the other hand, part of the plot was repeated in a subsequent Giallo that I had previously seen; so maybe I zeroed in on the killer's identity here as a result of the later film.There's some humor in this film as well. At one point the resourceful Nora makes use of talcum powder in an attempt to trap the killer, with unplanned results. Various murder mystery clichés in combo with explicit humor suggests that the story is something of a spoof of the genre.Casting is acceptable. Overall acting is only fair, except for the wonderful performance of Valentina Cortese. Didn't notice any problems with editing or prod design; and costumes really hark back to the 1960s. Love that jazzy score.This film deserves at least one viewing for those who enjoy murder mysteries. It has some negatives, but they are definitely outweighed by an interesting story and especially by the terrific visuals.

chaos-rampant Coming out in 1963, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is not as ground-breaking as other Mario Bava efforts but it's still every bit as stylish and suspenseful. The plot of the film, convoluted and filled with twists and red herrigns galore, anticipates the giallo cycle of the late 60's. Of course one year later the director would practically define the style with Blood and Black Lace, introducing other genre staples like the black-gloved killer, the garish colours and the gore but that doesn't detract from the ifluential status of this proto-giallo.As the title imples, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is with one foot firmly set in Hitchcock territory, but whereas Hitch films had a tendency of trying to be too many things at once (little bits of comedy, romance etc) something I always considered distracting, Bava allows nothing to come between him and his goal: a suspenseful horror thriller.The chiaroscuro photography is simply beautiful to look at, light and shadow play off each other in expressive ways, not unlike film-noir. Leticia Roman's face is at times only half-lit to stress her confusion, while in other set-pieces dark figures stand out against fully lit backgrounds. Bava is famous for being one of the best visual directors in the history of the medium for good reason. His black and white work is as good as his colour films.Minor quibbles I had with the film include that many scares turn out to be false, the first person narration (another film-noir influence) and the implied possibilities in the ending *was it all a dream?* Leticia Roman and John Saxon hit it off with great chemistry, the DP work is fantabulous, the opening 15-20 minutes leading up to the first murder are among the best 20 minutes in 60's horror and this an all around accomplished horror film that deserves every fan's attention.

Graham Greene The Girl Who Knew Too Much (1963) is director Mario Bava's gleeful homage to Hitchcock; and one of the earliest examples of the Italian Giallo sub-genre of horror/suspense cinema that would go on to inspire an entire generation of horror filmmakers throughout the subsequent two decades. If you're at all familiar with the work of director Dario Argento for example, then you can see the roots of films like The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970), Deep Red (1975) and Tenebrae (1982) already being established by the skillful blending of low-key thrills, character development and good old fashioned murder mystery, as captured by Bava in this excellent, slow-burning suspense piece. Although it may take some viewers a while to settle into the overall tone of the film - with those first few scenes presenting us with a veritable bombardment of information, both narrative and thematic, before the first murder has even taken place - the eventual unravelling of the plot, and Bava's excellent direction eventually draw us deeper into a story that is here punctuated by a charmingly romantic subplot, a miniature travelogue around the tourist traps of Rome, some subtle moments of almost slapstick humour, and the director's always inventive use of visual experimentation.The usual Gialli trademarks are already beginning to take shape here, with the film focusing on a foreigner - in this case, twenty-year old American student Nora Davis - who travels to Rome to visit her ailing aunt and inadvertently witnesses a murder. Alongside this central plot device, which would be utilised by Argento in many of his greatest films, such as the three aforementioned, we also have the ideas of sight and perception; with the central protagonist unintentionally witnessing something that is shrouded in elements of doubt and abstraction, and thus having to prove what she saw to sceptical police officers and those nearest to her. Bava's film is also given a neat touch of self-referential sub-text; opening with a shot of the central character herself reading a Giallo murder mystery, casting some doubt as to whether or not the film plays out in the literal sense, or whether it is a merely a constructed reality, taking place in her own mind as she reads the book to herself. This is a thread of interpretation that is examined throughout by the filmmaker, with the title of the book itself, "The Knife", having an importance on the plot that perhaps surreptitiously suggest some element of imagined fantasy.Once we get through those hectic opening sequences, which introduce the characters and a number of potential sub-plots that are essentially window-dressing to throw us off the trail, the film settles into the murder mystery aspect and the burgeoning relationship between Nora and her young doctor friend, Marcello Bassi. Through the relationship, Bava introduces a subtle comment on the Holmes vs. Watson partnership recast as a romantic dilemma, whilst also creating space within his story to let the audience catch up and think about the potential clues already collected in order to lead us to the eventual discovery of the killer's identity. The use of sight and Bava's directorial slight-of-hand is used meticulously for the initial murder sequence; with the director creating a literal feeling of hazy disconnection and a distorted perspective through a somewhat dated visual effect and the always masterful use of light and shadow. Although the actual effect - which replicates the look of ripples on a pond - might lead a more contemporary audience to giggle or cringe, it does tie in with the continual use of water-symbolism in Bava's work, from the final story in The Three Faces of Fear/Black Sabbath (1963), and A Bay of Blood (1971) most famously, as well as a somewhat cheap gag about marijuana cigarettes that will pay off in the film's closing moments.Again, the use of humour taps into the spirit of Hitchcock, with intrigue, voyeurism, suspense and murder being reduced to mere complications in the continual romantic wooing of Nora by the charming Dr. Bassi. Nevertheless, the thriller aspects are what we remember most clearly; with Bava's always atmospheric direction, iconography and ability to create tension from the slightest movement of the camera. Once the credits have rolled, we release just how subtle much of Bava's use of sight and perception actually was; with a number of scenes leading on from a moment of confusion by the central character, in which she thinks she sees something that turns out to be nothing of the sort. Again, it shows the director playfully undermining the central character; presenting Nora as someone unable to trust her own eyes, and thus, unable to be trusted with the ultimate unravelling of the plot. Nonetheless, Bava also succeeds in throwing us into this enigmatic mystery; undermining our own perspective of the story by showing us important information early on, allowing us to feel superior to Nora with our benefit of a forewarning, only to then cast further doubt in our mind as the gallery of suspects mount up.Though still something of a minor work for Bava, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is undoubtedly great; enlivened by the fine performances from the two leads, John Saxon (a cult actor with an impeccable list of credits) and the delightful Leticia Roman (I'm honestly quite smitten), and absolutely brimming with style and energy. The gag at the end is in-keeping with Bava's work, but certainly doesn't lessen the impact of the more thrilling scenes that came before, or the air of grand mystery and excitement suggested by his excellent approach to editing, cinematography and design. Beware that the film also exists under the title The Evil Eye; re-edited by Bava for the American market as more of a light-hearted romp (Tarantino calls it's a masterpiece). The version reviewed here is the original Italian version, a minor masterpiece of Giallo thrills, cinematic abstractions and an old-fashioned approach to storytelling that grips us from the start and never lets us go.