Robert Siodmak and the proto-giallo?

So, last night I re-watched Robert Siodmak's The Spiral Staircase—a stunning, gothic, Lewton-esque thriller with expressionistic undertones. I was struck by the number of ideas, here, that would later emerge in gialli—most obviously, how the identity of the killer is obscured using a fedora–raincoat–black gloves motif. Then there’s the red herrings and the use of the "Lewton Bus". And, lastly, the eyes in darkness—a device I think Argento would go on to use from time to time. Even geometry—the staircase itself—is something that finds echoes in giallo filone.

So, my question: are there any notable, earlier, examples of a similar fedora–gloves–raincoat device—particularly in a similar murder-mystery? Maybe in the context of an Edgar Wallace adaptation?

I believe Hitchcock's The Lodger features a similar motif, but not in a way that feels as giallo-esque as it does in The Spiral Staircase. Basically, what earlier titles could also be said to provide a template for the giallo filone?

Eurocult: When it clicks, it clicks!

I love Eurocult. I especially love Italian movies of the sixties and seventies. I can say that now—with some confidence. But, there was once a time when that wasn't the case. I just didn't get them at all!

I was just entering my teenage years when my parents announced that the family were getting a VHS video recorder. This was the early 80s, Britain's pre-cert era, and the height of the Video Nasties scare. Like a lot of my friends at the time, I was a fan of all things horror. I loved the pulp horror novels that you could pick up at Woolies, Smiths, or the Central Bus Station kiosk, and I loved horror movies.

However, since the village only had a small video library, I found myself borrowing the same handful of Italian horror films over and over. But, while I was drawn to the gore, I’ll admit that I found the films, themselves, a bit strange. They were hypnotic, for sure, but they were very different from the more familiar Universal Monsters of the BBC Horror Double Bill. Indeed, those early encounters with Italian horror left me feeling unmoored and adrift—the experience not unlike that disengaged, dream-like state between wakefulness and sleep—waiting to be jolted, occasionally, by moments of Théâtre du Grand-Guignol, Italian style. First, the calm, then—bam! The storm! An eyeball skewered!

Of all the directors, I especially loved Lucio Fulci's predilection for cinematic excess. However, I definitely felt there was something a little off-kilter about his films. There was something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. What it was exactly? Could it, maybe, have been the exposure to an unfamiliar and deliberate pacing? Possibly, yes—to an extent. But, with hindsight, there was something else that baked my noodle. It was that dubbing!

My very first exposure to voice dubbing and post-synchronized sound in Italian genre cinema came, coincidentally, with my very first VHS rental—Zombie Flesh Eaters. And I suspect the actual moment I became truly aware that something was askew was when yacht skipper Brian Hull, played by Al Cliver, delivered his first line. Because even though the voice was striking—and distinct—it was clearly not his own. That voice, I would later discover, belonged to prolific English-born voice actor and dubbing supervisor Nick Alexander. And the disconnect bugged me. Still, at the time, there were far more important things to worry about than Al Cliver's voice. And so, with exams approaching, my first dalliances with Eurohorror had drawn to a close.

Years passed. I started shaving, failed exams, left school, had a go at driving, didn't get it, gave up, got a job and a girlfriend, lost both, got burgled, started over, got engaged—and then, on a whim, found myself wanting to revisit the films of my youth. Now, in my late twenties, with the millennium fast approaching, and, possibly out of nostalgia, I secured a copy of Dario Argento's Tenebrae—to watch—for the first time in years.

You know what? It’s funny how the passage of time can alter one’s perceptions. Because, this time, when it came to Italian horror and thrillers, everything just felt right.

This experience led me to seek out more titles. Zombie films. Horror films—The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue, Zombie Creeping Flesh, Nightmare City, The Beyond, Anthropophagus. Then House by the Cemetery. I got into giallo, and then, ultimately, poliziotteschi. I was on a roll! Discovering Franco. Rollin. Borowczyk. My journey into Eurocult had begun.

And from there I segued—surprisingly—into the French and Czech New Wave: from Truffaut, to Godard, to Rohmer and Varda. To Věra Chytilová. To Murnau and Dreyer. And, of course, brilliant Bergman.

With that journey came a realisation—that voice actors are something vital to the distinct nature of the Italian filone. A dubber does not simply read lines—they give a character an identity. When I watched Barbara Magnolfi speak of sssnakes in Suspiria, I knew it was the voice of Carolyn De Fonseca, who also dubbed Daria Nicolodi’s Gianna Brezzi in Deep Red, Corinne Cléry in Lucio Fulci’s The Devil’s Honey, and was the voice of Lara Wendel in The Red Monks. She had been the voice of all these. But still, in that one moment, it just worked—character, actress, voice—all one! Olga!

Giallo is not a genre!

Giallo is not a genre. There! I said it! I thought that point was widely accepted, but it turns out I was wrong. Indeed, just the other day, I came across yet another reference to the "giallo genre" and witnessed people arguing over whether this, or that, film fits the latest gatekeeping standards. And if it doesn’t? Well then, apparently, it must be exorcised from the giallo canon because them's the rules. But, you know what? I’m not having it!

I'm sure we've all seen comments like, "I don’t think Footprints on the Moon is a giallo", or "I don’t think Orgasmo counts". It's not a view I share but I get it—I really do. After all, as a fan of cult cinema, I am aware that the line between cult and genre films is razor-thin. But, if science fiction, westerns, or horror are on one side of that genre line, then gialli are on the other—as not so much a genre but, maybe, at best, genre-adjacent.

So why, then, suggest that giallo is a genre at all? Well, as a physical media collector, that’s a very big question—perhaps one we can delve into some other time. But I’m sure I’m not the only boutique Blu-ray obsessive with a “horror” shelf. I mean, if you’re picking up releases from Severin, Mondo Macabro, or 88 Films, chances are you've got a horror section, right? Unless, of course, you organise by distro—which is fair. Or alphabetise, in which case... I’m not really sure we can be friends.

Anyhow, this leaves us with the tricky question of what to do with that growing stack of gialli that began with an Arrow sale and is now bulging with those wonderful Forgotten Gialli boxsets. (Volume 8, which is on a limited run, is selling briskly, by the way.)

So, you've got your horror shelf—but maybe, just maybe, you feel that your giallo films don’t really sit comfortably amongst all your horror titles. They are not, after all, horror films are they!? And despite being thrillers, they don’t quite belong next to Die Hard—which should be filed under “Christmas”, obviously—along with, might I add, Night Train Murders. So, what can you do?

Well, in this instance, assigning a genre classification for your giallo collection makes a kind of sense. That is up to you—your collection, your rules! But still, I have to remind you where we came in: giallo is not a genre.

But "Ah!" retort the Giallo-genrians, "not only is giallo a genre, but it has identifiable tropes and motifs that bind these films together". Then, out comes their checklist: Black-gloved killers? Check. Convoluted murder plots? Check. Dilettante sleuthing? Check. Not to mention the J&B bottles, convoluted murder plots, psychosexual themes, and unreliable witness testimony. To be fair the case they present, I concede, may well be a compelling one. Yet, still I feel this nagging doubt!

I mean, I get that, as with genre, there are motifs that so many of the gialli share. But, many is by no means all. And you won't have to look far before films confound expectations—The Possessed, for example, or Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion. Even Footprints. All gialli, all different.

Yet, just because I don't go along with the premise of giallo-as-genre does not mean I don't see them as part of a whole. Because I do! But here’s what I’d argue: if a film like Footprints or Orgasmo can be included alongside the likes of Blood and Black Lace or Tenebrae, then maybe giallo isn’t really a genre at all. Maybe it’s something else altogether—something fluid. Something far more vital. I do have thoughts on this. Please, allow me to elaborate...