Review: Night Killer (1990)
(aka Non aprite quella porta 3)
Directed by: Claudio Fragasso (as Clyde Anderson), Bruno Mattei (uncredited)
Starring: Peter Hooten, Tara Buckman, Richard Foster
Written by: Claudio Fragasso (as Clyde Anderson), Rosella Drudi
Music by: Carlo Maria Cordio
Country: Italy
Available on: Blu-ray (Severin FIlms)
IMDb
Claudio Fragasso’s Night Killer might just be the most goddamn bizarre flick to emerge from Italy, a country that makes really goddamn bizarre flicks. Generally, Italian horror filmmakers during the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s were trying to quickly and cheaply tap into the success of American films that broke through commercially. There were waves of ripoffs emulating The Exorcist, Jaws, Dawn of the Dead, Alien, Aliens, Predator, and really any recognizable Hollywood genre film from that period. Since few of the directors, and even fewer of the screenwriters or actors, had spent time in the United States and many have spoken only a little English, it meant you got some peculiar syntheses of American culture from folks that haven’t experienced a lick of it.
Night Killer, a Nightmare on Elm Street clone from Fragasso, a protégé of Bruno Mattei (who also ghost-directed a bit of this), that was also marketed as Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3 for reasons not clear to anyone, is about Melanie Beck (Tara Buckman), a woman whose boobs are constantly finding ways to escape her sweaters, who was attacked by a razor-clawed man in a rubber mask and left severely traumatized. She seeks solace with Axel, a bug-eyed, fried chicken fanatic that’s stalking her (Peter Hooten). Is Axel really the killer? Or is she just attracted to fucked-up men that are always on the verge of murdering her? Is she unable to climax without the imminent threat of death? You’re never very sure, but thankfully there are five or six scenes of the killer jamming his clawed glove through the torsos of various women to break up the absolutely abhorrent flirtation that Axel and Melanie have drummed up, which consists of constant threats to kill each other.
This is a movie filled with characters that never approach legitimate human behavior. Sure, they’re speaking English but no one in America speaks like Axel and Melanie do. I’m not sure anyone anywhere has ever shown the frightening horniness for fast food and Stockholm syndrome that Peter Hooten is channeling here. Screenwriters Fragasso and his wife Rosella Drudi once again string together a script that only they’re capable of producing, one in which logic, cause and effect, emotional authenticity, and other snooty bullshit have no place. This is an American slasher movie, goddamn it! Slasher movies made in America have gory deaths, masked killers, titties, final girls overcoming trauma, and twist endings. Technically, Night Killer has all that, I guess. But it also has about six misuses of the word paradoxically, the most psychologically abusive “hero” you could possibly conjure, a series of production inconsistencies ranging from clothing that changes mid-scene to wounds that suddenly disappear, a therapist with a severe case of verbal diarrhea that violates every bit of doctor-patient confidentiality, a dick stabbing, and an utterly ludicrous ending that makes no sense but god bless it. Peter Hooten is a gift to mankind that we’ll never be able to fully appreciate.
I can’t begin to rationalize what Fragasso and Drudi were thinking when they concocted whatever this movie is. Fine Italian horror is usually crafted from a mix of cultural misunderstandings, cynicism, laziness, opportunism, and a dash of genuine creativity. But there’s a different sort of alchemy at work in Claudio Fragasso’s films, and Night Killer is apex Fragasso; whatever the things are that motivate his weirdo brain to spill forth this weirdo nonsense, they were all maxed out during production of this film. It’s supremely abnormal but supremely entertaining.
Overall rating: 8 out of 10
