MIO CARO ASSASSINO

aka Sumario sangriento de la pequeña Estefanía (Es), My Dear Killer (International)
1971
Italy/Spain
Manolo Bolognini for B.R.C. (Rome), Kramot Cin.ca (Rome), Tecisa Film (Madrid)
Director: Tonino Valerii
Story: Franco Bucceri, Roberto Leoni
Screenplay: Franco Bucceri, Roberto Leoni, José G. Maesso, Tonino Valerii
Music: Ennio Morricone
Cinematography: Manuel Rojas {Eastmancolor - Technochrome}
Editor: Franco Fraticelli
Set design: Claudio Cinini, Francisco Canet
Cameraman: Arcangelo Lannutti
Filmed: Incir - De Paolis Studios
Release information: Registered 29.01.72. Italy (03.02.72, 102 mins), Spain (24.02.75, Madrid )
Spanish takings: €70.538,88
Cast: George Hilton (Commissioner Luca Peretti), Salvo Randone (Marò), William Berger (Giorgio Canavese), Manolo Zarzo (Brigadier Bozzi), Patty Shepard (Paola Rossi, the schoolmistress), Piero Lulli (Alessandro Moroni), Helga Liné (Sra. Paradisi), Tullio Valli (Oliviero Moroni), Dante Maggio (Mattia Guardapelle), Dana Ghia (Eleanora Canavese), Alfredo Mayo (Beniamino), Monica Randall (Carla Moroni), Corrado Gaipa (head of the insurance agency), Daniela Rachele Barnes (Stefania Moroni), Francesco di Federico (Umberto Paradisi), Lola Goas, Sergio Mendizabal (a policeman), Sofia Dionisio, Luigi Antonio Guerra, Elisa Mainardi (Moroni's maid), Enzo Fiermonte (foreman of the quarry), Anna Maria Chio, Antonio Spaggatini, Guerrino Crivelli, Irio Fantini, Andrea Scotti (the postman) and with Marilù Tolo (Dr. Anna Borgese)
Uncredited: Pietro Ceccarelli (Canavese's man)

THE DVD

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BACKGROUND

Despite already keeping himself busy appearing in a series of thrillers for Sergio Martino and comedy westerns for Giuliano Carnimeo, George Hilton also managed to find the time to star in this eccentric giallo from director Tonino Valerii. Valerii had enjoyed some success as a director of spaghetti westerns, with Day of Anger (I giorni dell'ira, 67), The Price of Power (Il prezzo del potere, 69) and My Name is Nobody (Il mio nome è Nessuno, 73) all enjoying a decent level of success (both critically and at the box office). He was obviously considered a bankable filmmaker: this Italo-Spanish production has high production values, a soundtrack from Morricone and a quality cast list (including Elio Petri's muse, Salvo Randone, as a typically world-weary policeman).

STORY

As a change of pace, Hilton plays a police inspector rather than a prime suspect. He has a cracker of a puzzle on his hands: a corpse, decapitated by a bulldozer (!?!), has been found in a local quarry. At first it's thought that it was an accident - bizarre vehicular incidents obviously being two-a-penny in the area - but when the driver of said bulldozer turns up dead, it becomes evident that a murderer is afoot.

After some digging around, the police discover that the dead man had worked as an insurance investigator and had been connected to one particular case that is of interest. A small child, Stefania Moroni, had been kidnapped and held to ransom. Rather than tell the police, her father, Alessandro (Piero Lulli) had attempted to confront the kidnappers himself, an impulsive act that had led to both his and his daughter's deaths. And over a year later, the identity of the killer(s) remains a mystery. Could the two crimes be connected? Well, I wouldn't bet against it.

CRITIQUE

George Hilton as Comissioner Luca Peretti in MY DEAR ASSASSIN

This stands as another giallo to tackle the contentious subject of child murder (see also Who Saw Her Die (Chi l'ha vista morire?, 72), Don't Torture a Duckling (Non si sevizia un paperino, 72) etc etc). Given the Italian love for i bambini , it's hardly surprising that inventive scriptwriters escalated the heinous act of taking an adult life to an even more unforgivable level: the slaying of an infant. The guilty party here is somehow even more despicable than in the previously mentioned films, with the murderous act being born of pique rather than the dark impulses of a damaged mind. The final act even finds the formerly sinister 'killer clad in black' curled up behind a sofa and whining about how unfair life is; which is about as pathetic as it gets, really.

Unfortunately, despite high quality contributions from Morricone and cinematographer Manuel Rojas (Perversion Story (Las Trompetas del apocalipsis, 69), A Bell from Hell (La Campana del infierno, 73)), Valerii seems less comfortable with the contemporary settings than he had with the sagebrush of his westerns. He makes a game effort, including a number of jump cuts - the cheekiest of which finds a rubber glove hanging on a washing line and knocking on the window - and gruesome murders. There's also a fun nod to his background, with Patty Shepard enjoying Django ('some terrible western') on the gogglebox just before being shredded to death with a handy-dandy buzz saw.

The main problems, though, lie with the script. For one thing, the pacing is thrown off-course by the frequent recourses into soap opera (mainly focusing upon Peretti and his broody partner, Anna (Marilu Tolo)) and police procedural. For another, there are some gaping inconsistencies: who is it who spies upon Peretti and Anna in their apartment? Why is Stefania's drawing so important (considering she drew it before her kidnap, and therefore couldn't really know anything about the events that were to unfold)?

Indeed, most of the main characters - an artist with a penchant for pre-pubescent models (Alfredo Mayo); Allessandro's one-armed brother (Tullio Valli); Stefania's dodgy uncle, who has a bulldozer in his yard! (William Berger) - only appear once almost an hour has passed. This has the unfortunate result that (a) none of them are allowed time to develop whatsoever and (b) the film essentially becomes a work of two chapters: the first of which is distinctly pedestrian, the second far more effective. It's all a bit of a shame, really, because with more consistency it could have been a far more impressive proposition. Even so, it's not bad - certainly not as bad as some people have made out - just something of a slow burner.

It also does give Hilton a good opportunity to play against type as a pretty straight-up guy. He even gets to assemble the assorted suspects, Agatha Christie style, for the surprisingly taut climactic unveiling of the killer. It should also be noted that this does preempt Argento's Deep Red (Profondo rosso, 75) in having clues to the killer's identity revealed by a child's drawing and a mirror.