New York Ripper
A reminder of how back in the day a sleazy dirty horror film was REALLY just that, Fulci’s NY-set slasher takes full advantage of its locations work, succeeding in making the city that never sleeps truly part of the narrative. Despite the American setting, I quickly grew weary of the massive amount of dubbing (even for actors clearly speaking English) that made it at times take the viewer out of the film. The amount of sex and pure sleaze on display here is something to behold, including a disgusting male-on-female footjob, and the kills themselves, with the prostitute and the straight razor belonging in the gore hall of fame. The film’s greatest gift is serving as a time capsule for a time and place that is no more, when The Big Apple regularly served up live sex shows for eager and paying customers, and the intricate screenplay dancing around waving red herrings in front of our eyes (how many people incorrectly guessed that the psychiatrist was the killer on first viewing?). The film’s main drawback was Jack Hedley’s tired and bored lead performance as the cop investigating the case, trying oh so hard to be “hard-boiled” and “world-weary” but just coming across as bland. The women on hand though, are just beautiful to look at, from the lead heroine to the unlucky ferry victim. And then there is the Duck Killer: quacking madly as he slaughters his victims, seemingly with a pending hatred for whores and/or sexually liberated women, every scene where he gets to spew his madness is some kind of twisted delight, like listening to a homicidal Donald Duck on speed. In the end, the film wraps up nicely, with the killer’s motive ultimately being incredibly heartbreaking and poignant to the viewer. In the end, an overlooked slasher classic of the never to be forgotton early 80s…
8/10