The French Sex Murders (1972)

An Italian/German coproduction, the literal English translation of the film's title is the somewhat prosaic House of Rendezvous, which, while a fair enough description of its scenario,was replaced for its English language release to the far more easily exploitable The French Sex Murders.  Which, to be fair, is also a reasonably accurate description of its content - it is set in France, there are murders, there is sex and it all centres around a high class brothel, (the titular House of Rendezvous).  In terms of genre, the film is clearly aiming to cash in on the then popularity of giallo movies.  Indeed, 1972 was a peak year for giallo productions in Italy and elsewhere, with the box office swamped by movies of varying degrees of quality - a glut that spelt the beginning of the end for the genre, as its popularity began to fade.  The French Sex Murders, it has to be said, doesn't rank among the best of the giallo films released that year.  It's main problem lies with the lethargic direction of Ferdinando Merighi, (this was one of only three movies he directed and the sole giallo among them), which gives the plot no sense of urgency and is badly lacking in the sort of visual style one would usually associate with the genre.  The problems are compounded by a seemingly disjointed script, which, after a spirited opening, takes an age to actually get the main plot moving.  Even once it gets going, it jumps around, confusingly flitting between a too large cast of characters, (most of whose names are easily forgotten), setting up strands which are never pursued, let alone resolved, before ending in a hurried welter of action and explanatory dialogue.

Yet the film remains interesting and worth watching for a number of reasons.  One is the murders themselves which, in contrast to the rest of the film, are very stylishly filmed, incorporating the use of colour filters and fast editing to give them a psychedelic and disturbing feel.  Another point of interest are the special effects - the murders are invariably gory and include a couple of quite realistically staged decapitations, courtesy of Carlo Rambaldi.  Finally and the reason for the film's cult status in some quarters, the detective investigating the murders looks and sounds like Humphrey Bogart, (it was even re-released in the UK under the title The Bogey Man and the French Sex Murders), a point never addressed by anyone in the movie.  Professional Bogart lookalike Robert Saachi portrays Inspector Fontaine, complete with all of Bogart's twitches and sporting a Sam Spade style raincoat, in what was probably his biggest film role outside of The Man With Bogart's Face (1980).  In the English language version, though, his voice is dubbed by the prolific Edward Mannix, doing his best Bogey impersonation.  Indeed, it is quirkiness like this which helps to maintain audience interest in the film, along with such touches as the wrongly convicted murderer sentenced to the guillotine, but escaping, only to be decapitated in a road accident.  At points the film seems set to veer off into other genres, with Howard Vernon acting as though he is in a Jesus Franco movie and his assistant claiming at one point that he has seen the eyes of the alleged killer's severed head move.  (Something never really followed up on).  

That the film feels, overall, somewhat ill-defined, never quite finding its identity as a giallo, instead drawing in elements from other genres, shouldn't be surprising bearing in mind its status as an international co-production.  Not purely Italian in origin, the film was co-produced by the ubiquitous Dick Randall, (who also has both a small acting role and a sleazy writer character named after him in the film), a US producer who could be guaranteed to try and cash in on any exploitation trend.  He had already produced various Mondo movies, sex films and spaghetti Westerns and would go on to produce the likes of Pieces (1982), The Erotic Adventures of Robinson Crusoe (1976), Don't Open 'Til Christmas (1984) and The Urge to Kill (1989), amongst many others.  The quality of his productions could be highly variable, depending upon the talents he managed to involve in them.  While, in terms of production values and cast, (Anita Eckberg, Rosalba Neri, Barbara Bouchet all appear alongside the aforementioned Howard Vernon and Robert Saachi), The French Sex Murders is above average, it is badly let down by a lacklustre direction and a weak script, with its set-pieces and bizarre asides carrying it across the line.  You can't help but feel that with a director more experienced in the genre (or just more experienced), The French Sex Murders might have been a minor genre classic. As it stands, the film is an entertaining but ultimately undistinguished genre entry.