Murder-Rock Directed By Lucio Fulci Starring Olga Karlotos (1984).
I've successfully avoided this Fulci attempt at ripping off Flashdance for over 20 years. I doubt it's any surprise that Murder rock would best be left in that pile of his more embarrassing efforts, it leaves a taste in your mouth like rancid garlicky tripe lasagna. You couldn't cram enough camel toes doing the Traci Lords workout in leotards to make this any more watchable. There are some familiar eurotrash faces to latch onto for a few wry chuckles; like Christian Borromeo who will be forever cemented in my mind as the guy who shot David Hess in the balls just before letting him go on a sex razor rampage in order to set him up somehow? I'm still baffled by the logic in House On The Edge Of The Park Gianfranco Clerici! Speaking of that screenwriter who penned Cannibal Holocaust, Park and this, I hope that lobotomy surgery went OK (this is the only explanation I have for his films taking such a nose dive into concrete)!
Olga Karlatos (Zombie, Purple Rain) returns with her famous splinter in the eyeball removed and back to its ocular radiance. Chocolate from Rats: Nights Of Terror actress Geretta Geretta plays a frustrated teacher. We get Fulci staple Al Cliver and Ray Lovelock even shows up as Olga's boyfriend, they are all aboard this sinking turd and keep it barely watchable.
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| I'm as pleased as punch there are no fucking splinters around |
There are some things that make this awful movie tolerable-- the score is one positive aspect, minus the infuriating and seizure inducing "Streets To Blame". Keith Emerson does a top notch job with the synth-rock, which goes from frantic to ridiculous in the best way possible. I'd love to see a scenario where someone today broke into a Yoga studio and put on the score, intercepting the usual techno or pan flute shit.
Fulci's gore effects man Gianetto Derossi is long gone and Franco Casagni (Opera, Barbarians, The Church) has replaced him.
I'm inclined to believe that Casagni deliberately sabotaged Fulci in order for him to look soft, I mean this guy has ties to Argento and to inject more rage into the turf war, he left his tacklebox full of squibs and foam latex at home. This is just a theory of mine don't spread the word or anything!
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| Stop spreading lies and hearsay! |
I wonder if he pulled punches because of the outrage towards all the violence against women in The New York Ripper, I seriously doubt it since he seems to be a raving misogynist.
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| Misogynist? I've heard worse |
This is a straight up Giallo, a film subgenre that I hate and think of as the cinematic equivalent to musak or gangster rap, two musical styling that I detest equally. I'd say it's a return to A Lizard In Women's Skin territory (another film that I loved the soundtrack to more then the finished product). I dozed off a little while viewing both films, so they have that in common as well. It sucks because I will always defend Fulci over Argento, but Murder Rock really tries your patience! Besides, Argento has legions of goths to give him support, most Fulci freaks are warped sickos with a penchant for bad dubbing, grindcore and illusionary organ removal without anesthetic,myself included.
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| I always thought Flashdance could use more wedgies |
It's a tie between this and New Gladiators, which came out the year before for worst film that I've seen by the maggot maestro.
Dancers are gearing up for a big show and one even does a sweaty Jennifer Beals style gyrating rain dance by a piano at a nightclub. A maniac who uses a fancy ruby encrusted needle device to stab his victim in the breast to kill (Yawn--excuse me)!
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| Don't fall asleep you'll end up in this 80's Calvin Klein coked out fever dream |
More people dance, whoop-de-doo and there's this reoccurring fade in, fade out lighting effect that is very distracting and unnecessary.
I will say, it's unusual for Lucio to have attractive people in his films that almost never happens, besides Catriona Maccoll his main actress, the butt-ugliest poor souls usually clutter up his work.
This is a nice change from the usual extreme close-up of people with hang dog faces and gruesome drippy eyelids. Olga does a decent job and I really shouldn't penalize the actors for the wretched script. I never apply logic or over analyze his other films because there's so much excitement and creepy-ness that I'm usually down for anything. Many of the Fulci staples make no sense anyway, the style and effective ghastliness over takes the dialogue and random situations.
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Take your Mickey Mouse doll and get lost, uglies only in a Fulci production!
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The little red haired girl from House By The Cemetery does a decent job as a paralyzed youngster in a wheelchair (she lives at a place called Montague Terrace, a great Scott Walker song by the way).
A Fernando Rey-esque detective is on the case, here we have another film that pitifully utilizes the real life early 80's location of New York, Come On Fulci!
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| I'm so sleepy and I've had like 90 cups of Sanka |
It all ends with a quote by John Huston, turning the ending into a conundrum wrapped in an enigma that just flew over my head. Is Fulci being to highbrow? He's straying from all the elements that make his films so likable. Some people like this film, I'm obviously not one of them, but you have to give Lucio Fulci credit because even when he falls flat on his face, he still manages to put on a good show and you can always find something to poke fun at or be entertained by, his movies defy logic and reason for die hard gorehounds!
Skip It and go watch one of those sexy work out videos from Friday The 13th The Final Chapter instead!
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| It was all a set up Crank and you fell for it! |
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