Four Flies on Grey Velvet (1971)

Argento's early giallos like this, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, and Deep Red really are his best films. He has always been somewhat apart from the other Italian pulp maestros in that his films are more slick and polished, they lack that kind of grungy roughousing that the Fulci and Martino flicks have, and in some ways I have fallen out of love with him, but Four Flies on Grey Velvet is a testament of his slaughterhouse mastery. Actually, though, there is very little blood here; like all his early works the focus is more on the labyrinthine plot and headache-inducing mystery. The thing that amazes me about giallos is how they so well manipulate audience expectations. The red herrings that do not appear to be red herrings, the multiple dead-ends, the plot twists. It all somehow magically holds up when it should not. As always, though, the real heart of the movie are the extravagant and baroque set pieces. It is a real treat to see a scene where a protagonist is trapped in the closet as the killer stalks its way through the house and still have that signature chill of suspense. Great way to kill a Saturday night, no pun intended!