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#no offence but i would rather read a book about a trans guy who just straight up murders children for fun
voxpraxis · 2 years
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sorry but i’m tired of books/media with softcore trans guy protags who are wimpy and anxious and never stop thinking about how trans they are and have a flowery little romance with a guy who calls them cute. like that’s all good and fine but where are my trans guy protags who are straight up gross. evil. covered in dirt and blood all the time. give me a trans guy character who spits and kills people and fucks to the death and doesn’t give a shit about shit PLEASE i am begging you
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johnnymundano · 5 years
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Watch Me When I Kill (1977) AKA Il gatto dagli occhi di Giada, The Cat's Victims (U.K.), Terror in the Lagoon (France) and The Vote of Death (Germany)
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Directed by Antonio Bido
Screenplay by Antonio Bido
Music by Trans Europa Express
Country: Italy
Running Time: 110 minutes
CAST
Corrado Pani as Lukas
Paola Tedesco as Mara
Franco Citti as Pasquale Ferrante
Fernando Cerulli as Giovanni Bozzi
Giuseppe Addobbati as Judge
Gianfranco Bullo as Santoro, the pharmacist's assistant
Jill Pratt as Signora Dezzan (as Yill Pratt)
Bianca Toccafondi as Esmeralda Messori
Inna Alexeievna as Old woman
Paolo Malco as Carlo
Cristina Pirasas as Pasquale Ferrante's wife
Roberto Antonelli as Michele
Gaetano Rampin as Dott. Peretti
Giuseppe Pennese as Marco
Giovanni Vannini as Biagio Dezzan, the pharmacist (as Giovanni Vanini)
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Watch Me When I Kill may be an unsavoury invitation in normal circumstances, but here it’s one well worth taking up, since it is also a particularly satisfying 1977 giallo. It’s a giallo from early in the cycle so it also works as a movie normal people might also like; there is still enough room amongst the stylistic tics for Antonio Bido to smuggle in what is basically a proper thriller movie.  Very much like Short Night of the Glass Dolls (1971) and The Perfume of the Lady in Black (1974), Watch Me When I Kill exceeds genre expectations; largely because  the genre trappings are a lure rather than being the whole point (which is what happens to later giallo; not a criticism, just an observation).
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Returning from a trip abroad, bra-disdaining tango dancer Mara (Paola Tedesco) tries to pick up some pills from a pharmacist (Giovanni Vannini). Unfortunately the pharmacist has had his worried beard rubbing interrupted by being slashed to death, and it is the killer who turns Mara away claiming the shop is shut. Fearing she can identify him/her the killer then stalks Mara, leading Mara to seek the aid of affable old flame Lukas (Corrado Pani). Lukas is a sound engineer, or a detective or some combination of the two, or maybe even just someone with no job but very interesting hobbies; it’s not very clear. What is clear is that his investigations into weird phone calls received by his neighbour, Bozzi (Fernando Cerulli), may dovetail nicely with identifying Mara’s stalker. Meanwhile, a couple of creepy producer guys vie to bed Mara under the guise of attaching her to their project. Which I thought was, you know, because…the ‘70s be creepy, but then I realised it’s more because…producer guys be creepy. Kind of #METOO: 1970s edition. Winningly, Mara doesn’t put up with their shit, so she’s mostly bothered about who is trying to off her. Particularly when it becomes apparent that other people are being offed and there is a vengeful escaped convict on the loose. Mystery, murder, red herrings, historical wrongs, black gloves, switchblades, POV with an asthmatic soundtrack, romance, ridiculous coincidences, stylish shots, peppy soundtrack noodlings from Trans Europa Express, sweet fashion stylings, an impressive waterfall and, naturally, tango dancing; Watch Me When I Kill serves up a stew as giallo-tastic as the literal stew which scalds a luckless victim to death.
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Just a word to potential viewers: While Mara was performing her, uh, entertaining tango act she seemed to be singing about how awful WW1 was, how big Rudolph Valentino’s ear were and something about Mata Hari being hit in the chest. Maybe that is what tango is usually about, I don’t know; it’s more familiar as a fizzy soft drink where I come from. Why yes, I am a cultureless slob. That was the most egregious example but I think it has to be (reluctantly) said that the subtitles were a bit lacking on the version I watched. The subtitler’s Italian was obviously immaculate but there was a stilted air to the English output. Which is a bit pissy , I realise, since I can barely handle my own language, but there you go. Whenever possible I watch foreign movies with the subtitles on as I like to hear the original vocal inflections, not the forced approximations of dubbing. (No offence to dubbers; it’s a tough gig.) I just don’t get people who react to subtitles like someone has threatened to push their grandma over. Have you seen them in reviews? “Switched off. Had SUBTITLES. WTF?!?” Yeah, you just ignore most of the world’s cinematic output because…reading? Is reading that big an ask these days? Wait until they discover books, they’ll shit. “Threw it away. Had WORDS! WTF?!?” But I digress, again. Where was I …big ears…tango…subtitles…okay…clues! That’s where I’m going, clues!
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Yes, Watch Me When I kill actually has clues. This doesn’t sound much, but if you watch enough giallo actually finding one where there are real clues is delightfully refreshing. Giallo veterans quickly become inured to bullshit clues like the cry of a bird in the background of a phone call which, when run through a computer containing all the sounds in the history of the world, reveals the call’s source. I’m not complaining, the ridiculous clues are part of the genre fun, but equally when you find a giallo where you are not laughing out loud at the clues, but rather cursing yourself for missing them, well, it’s like a cool breeze on a hot face, possibly a face hot from being scalded by a yummy stew. The mystery actually stacks up too. I don’t condone the actions of the killer in Watch Me When I kill, but I understand the actions of the killer in Watch Me When I Kill. Usually it’s just that they are nuts. This one is nuts too, but for once you can kind of see why.
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And it’s not just clues; trampling the giallo stereotype underfoot, Watch Me When I Kill has some time for characterisation. Corrado Pani as Lukas is particularly fun, looking like a jolly Charles Bronson but acting like a shambly Elliot Gould. It’s a good combination, even better when Paola Tedesco’s Mara is around. There’s a lovely light romantic-comedy/buddy-movie vibe when the two are onscreen. They are lovers but also, clearly, friends and have a charmingly blasé approach to their relationship, which they wear like a much loved, tatty jumper. It would be the equal of Hemmings and Nicolodi in Deep Red (1975), but there isn’t enough of it, alas. Unfortunately it’s the ‘70s so Lukas has to go it alone and do the manly thing of investigating, while Mara stays at home to be threatened occasionally. She’s not as bad as most ‘70s heroines though; she does figure things out, is up for a scrap and I would definitely go and watch her Celebration of WW1 & Rudolph Valentino’s Big Ears Tango show, as I’m sure, would you given half a chance. By the end though, Watch Me When I Kill becomes consumed by its mystery at the cost of its characters. They basically stand and watch the ending with us. Someone who should get out more would probably concoct some bobbins about the viewer being subsumed into the characters, blah blah etc. Normal viewers will feel a bit taken aback by the abruptness of the ending. Mind you, I’m not asking for it to end with a freeze frame of Lukas and Mara high-fiving or anything.
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I’ve probably risked making it sound a bit trad, but be assured Watch Me When I Kill is very much a giallo, so there are a lot of “Say what now?!?” moments, as is only proper. Most strikingly, whenever the killer strikes we see a flash of a cat’s eyes, which I still don’t get. I liked it, but I didn’t understand it. Which is why I like giallo, I guess. It’s certainly part of why I like Watch Me When I Kill.
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