Review by Roger Carpenter
The Italian giallo boom of the early 1970’s was mostly over by 1977, when The Pyjama Girl Case was released. But that’s not the only odd thing about this film. The writer/director was Flavio Mogherini who mostly specialized in comedies. He was a longtime production designer and art director, who collaborated with the likes of Fellini and Pasolini, and came to actual film direction rather late in his career. The film was set and filmed in and around Sydney, Australia, quite a different setting than traditional gialli which were typically set across Europe and in metropolitan American cities. Finally, there is only one murder in the entire film, and very little actual violence. For a genre which thrived on its murder set pieces, The Pyjama Girl Case is remarkably bloodless. In fact, the film is more a character study of two very different people who occupy completely different plotlines in the film, as well as a police procedural, than a lurid murder mystery.
The gorgeous Dalila Di Lazarro (Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I have the Key; Night Train Murders; Frankenstein ’80; Flesh for Frankenstein; Phenomena) stars as Linda, a slinky, sexy waitress involved with no less than three different men. She is unhappily married to Antonio (Michele Placido, who has had a prolific acting and directing career) while she is seeing the hunky Roy on the side (played by genre stalwart Howard Ross AKA Renato Rossini). She also has a complicated relationship with an older man, Professor Henry Douglas (the great Mel Ferrer). Linda keeps very busy juggling all her men yet seems to always be sad and discontent with her lot in life. Antonio is essentially a pig as well as a coward so that relationship is tumultuous, more infatuation than anything else. Linda feels trapped in what may be a far-too-early marriage and attempt at a stable relationship. Her relationship with Roy is all about lust and sex. While the physical attraction cannot be denied, this relationship is hollow as well. The Professor represents stability and gentility; Linda’s dreams for how she wanted her life to turn out. However, while he clearly lusts after Linda, he has no intention of risking his professional and private relationships for a tryst with someone whom he views as a whore.
But we are getting ahead of ourselves because the film actually opens on a beach where a little girl discovers the horrifically mutilated corpse of a young woman. Even in death the corpse is clearly beautiful though the victim was both shot and beaten in the face with a heavy, blunt instrument before having her face burned off in an attempt to mask her identity. Enter the inimitable Ray Milland (The Uninvited, Dial M for Murder, Love Story) as Inspector Thompson, an aging (and retired) police detective bored with his life and desperate to get back into the law enforcement gig. He is a gentle soul but is seen by his peers as over the hill and annoying. The captain lets him work the case of the mutilated corpse—for free—just to keep him happy and to shut him up. Officially, the case is being worked by the regular cops, too.
Of course, the regular cops quickly pinpoint a local pervert who happened to have quietly discovered the body before anyone else and stolen a watch from the corpse. He makes a gift of the watch to a local whore and the police end up discovering this fact and pin the murder on the pervert. Case closed.
But Inspector Thompson, a Canadian expat living in Sydney, doesn’t buy the explanation. Summarily dismissed and derided, he nonetheless continues his investigation until he makes a discovery that frees the poor accused man, embarrasses the police, and connects all the characters together neatly.
Based on an actual Australian murder case from the 1930’s, one of the more prurient set pieces in the film is when the police, who up to this point have no clues at all, encase the nude body of the victim in a Plexiglas viewing chamber filled with formaldehyde and put the body on display in hopes someone will be able to identify the victim. While this kind of thing was commonplace in the early Twentieth Century—although it was usually the corpse of a bandit that was displayed and not that of a murder victim, and nude, to boot—it seems completely incongruous in 1977. It simply isn’t believable for several reasons, including the fact that the woman’s face is totally destroyed so there is no real hope of identification by the general public to begin with, as well as the choice to leave the corpse fully nude. While one might argue the police did this so the public could identify any marks on the body, it would also make even better sense to clothe the corpse not just for reasons of taste but also to allow law enforcement to establish as accurate someone’s report of knowing the victim by identifying marks that no one else could have known about. A better choice would have perhaps been to make a period film. However, I’m sure budgetary constraints did not allow for a period film.
While almost all the violence done to Linda occurs off-screen, there are a couple of momentary gross-out scenes when the camera pulls close-ups of the head of the corpse. While not terribly realistic by special effects standards, nonetheless the face and head are quite gruesome to behold. The score, by famed composer Riz Ortalani, is not one of his best and ranges between good and annoying. The choice to place actual songs (sung by “Amanda Lear”) in the film is truly horrific, as are the songs. Ms. Lear sounds like a throat cancer patient trying to sing and the lyrics are simply terrible, perhaps lending credence to the rumors that “Ms.” Lear was actually “Mr.” Lear. In the commentary, Troy Howarth gushes about both the score as well as the songs, referring to them as “catchy.” I will have to respectfully disagree on both counts, though I think Howarth hits the mark on most everything else about the film.
Another point I don’t think Howarth and I are in agreement on is whether the film counts as a giallo or not. I won’t go into all the details, but suffice it to say that, while I think the film is a standout, I do not count it as a giallo as Howarth does.
Though the film score doesn’t score with me, the writing and acting certainly do. Die hard gialli fans may find the film slow moving and a bit boring, and one can see why if one comes into the film expecting the lurid deaths which typically occur in an Italian murder mystery. However, writer/director Mogherini has created a genuinely sensitive character study of people discontent with their lot in life and unable to control the events surrounding themselves. The story is quite strong and all of the actors portray their characters in a sympathetic, if not entirely empathetic, light. Di Lazarro is a standout as a young woman who is simply a pawn for the various men in her life. She is truly unhappy with her circumstances and things go from bad to worse as she loses her baby then her marriage. Leaving her husband Antonio with only the clothes on her back, she heads to the Professor’s home only to be turned away. The look on her face as she realizes her last chance at normality has just slammed the door on her is almost as heartbreaking as the look in her eyes when she must submit to a greasy gangbang with two older men in order to obtain enough money to go back home. There she meets back up with Antonio who, incited by Roy, quickly loses his temper, beating Linda mercilessly in a misguided effort to, as Roy puts it, “show the dog who is the master.” He is so guilt-ridden by his behavior, he pees his pants as he considers what he has done. Few gialli, if you want to call this film by that moniker, have this level of sensitivity.
Even Ray Milland, who won the Academy Award for 1945’s Lost Weekend, who supports in this film, plays a remarkably sensitive cop, who just happens to have a bit of a twisted sense of humor. It’s a strong late performance for the actor, who would go on to a series of television movies and guest appearances in TV series before passing away in 1985. The only regret with his performance is—minor spoiler—it doesn’t continue through to the end of the film as he, in a surprise twist, is killed an hour into the story.
Giallo or not, The Pyjama Girl Case is a unique entry into the Italian murder mystery canon and deserves to be re-evaluated over 40 years after its initial release. Arrow Video USA has recently released the film on Special Edition Blu-Ray, restored in 2K from the original camera negative. The film looks and sounds terrific. Included is an excellent audio commentary by the aforementioned Troy Howarth, author of the exhaustive compendium of gialli films, So Deadly, So Perverse (Volumes 1 and 2). Howarth is entertaining, funny, and filled with interesting facts and opinions, and his commentaries always make for a good listen. Also included are several lengthy interviews with the likes of critic Michael Mackenzie, Howard Ross, editor Alberto Tagliavia, and Riz Ortolani. An image gallery and theatrical trailer round out the special features. A collector’s booklet is included in the first pressing of the package as well. You can purchase the film directly from Arrow Video at http://www.arrowfilms.co.uk/category/usa/ or from Amazon.
