The Case of the Bloody Iris

A "high class hustler" is stabbed to death in the lift of an exclusive apartment complex designed by architect Andrea Antorini (George Hilton). Then Mizar Harrington (Carla Brait – Torso), who earlier happened upon the body with some of her neighbours, is drowned in the bath after returning home from the nightclub where she works as an exotic dancer/performer.

With the police investigation turning up little except for a letter, which interests Inspector Erici (Giampiero Albertini) more for the rare stamp on the envelope than its actual contents – "My dearest darling. My sin is as black and you and your colour has already started to corrupt me." – two new tenants move in in the shapely forms of Jennifer Lansbury (Edwige Fenech) and Marilyn Ricci (Paola Quattrini).

No sooner have the pair met their new neighbours, including the secretive and unfriendly Mrs Moss (Carla Mancini – The Bird with the Crystal Plumage and violin playing Professor Isaacs (Jorge Rigaud – All the Colours of the Dark) and his lesbian daughter Sheila (Annabella Incontrera) – dad doesn't know – than they attract unwelcome attentions. But who is terrorising them? Is it Andrea, who attended Mizar's show on the night of her death, is a partner in a dubious modelling agency and seems to have an answer ready for every question the police throw at him? Or is it Jennifer's insanely jealous ex-husband Adam (Ben Carra) who wants to draw her back into his group sex cult? Or is it someone nobody would ever suspect? Why can Mrs Moss, who is supposed to live alone, be heard arguing with someone else through the apartment walls? And why her strange fascination with gory comics?

If I had to choose one giallo to introduce someone to the delights of the genre, The Case of the Bloody Iris (AKA What Are Those Strange Drop of Blood Doing on Jennifer's Body) would probably be it.

Yes, there are certainly better gialli from Mario Bava, Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci amongst others, but few if any of their films – not Blood and Black Lace nor The Bird with the Crystal Plumage nor Don't Torture a Duckling – can match Bloody Iris for trashy entertainment value.

I mean, we've got Edwige Fenech wearing a different early 70s outfit in just about every scene and doing the obligatory "tits oot for the lads" thing on multiple occasions; an effervescent, breezy score from Bruno Nicolai that will soon have you whistling along; all manner of sleazy contrivances, as when a terrorised Fenech runs, half-naked, into the suspiciously waiting arms of Sheila – "I must say you'd tempt any human being" – and lashings of good old fashioned non-PC attitude.

Add in the obligatory mask/hat/trenchcoat combo – with some brown rubber surgical gloves replacing the more usual black leather ones for that extra kinky frisson for the fetishists and preverts in the audience – along with the requisite childhood trauma, bring to the boil and stir thoroughly…

While better known as a spaghetti western director (where he had previously worked with Hilton) Anthony Ascott (AKA Guiliano Carnimeo) helms with a good feel for the requirements of his new genre, handling the suspense and murder scenes well and elsewhere demonstrating some nice visual touches in using mirrors to present two distinct fields of action in the one composition.

This said, the film isn't all about showy style, with prolific screenwriter Ernesto Gastaldi providing a tightly constructed narrative packed with suspects and red herrings to keep the amateur detectives in the audience involved – not to mention many lines of iffy dialogue sure to raise a smile, as when Andrea informs Jennifer "Don't thank me just yet. Wait till I try to make it with you and you find out what a bastard I am"

Anchor Bay's Region 1 DVD of Curse of the Bloody Iris is only available as part of the 'Giallo Collection', unfortunately limiting its charms to those who are already fans of the genre. It could be because the print quality is inferior to that of the other titles in the box set – Short Night of the Glass Dolls, Who Saw Her Die and Bloodstained Shadow – with some isolated sequences that exhibit a considerable amount of damage, or because the extras are lacking with only a theatrical trailer – including what appear to be different footage of some scenes with less flesh on display – and an alternate version of the opening lift stabbing that runs a scant few seconds.

Nevertheless, one has no doubts that Anchor Bay have done the best they can with the materials available, the film being presented uncut, anamorphic, in the original aspect ratio of 2.35:1 and – the above criticisms aside – in an eminently watchable transfer with reliable, if unspectacular, audio.

While The Case of the Bloody Iris is available in its own right on Region 2 DVD from Vipco this disc may well be best avoided given that company's dubious marketing practices in exploiting the legacy of the "video nasty" yet delivering cut, frequently substandard product.

Edwige Fenech page (in French).