Friday, November 12, 2010
It Came From Netflix: The New York Ripper
With last week's screening of the putrid Mountaintop Motel Massacre still invading my nightmares with the tenacity of Freddy Krueger, I flee to the safety of the Italian giallo and director Lucio Fulci's 1982 The New York Ripper. The story is a stock cat-and-mouse game between detective and killer, one who kills nubile young ladies while(I'm deadly serious)quacking like a duck.
You would think that Fulci dropped some mediocrity acid on this one(as he had in Manhattan Baby), but believe it or not, there is a purpose behind the killer's mannerism, an understandable reason at that.
Naturally, this film is chockful of blood, gore, and nudity. It's as if this could have been shown on Skinimax on a late Friday night. The movie's suspense lies in keeping you guessing as to whodunit. The acting is not quite as melodramatic as Italian horror films have a tendency to do, but nevertheless it has its moments. If you like Fulci or Argento or Bava, you'll like this film.