Francesco Barilli
Il profumo della signora in nero

If Mario Bava traced the evolutionary lines of the Italian thriller and giallo and Dario Argento perfected the genre, bringing it, at least in the early years of his career, to noteworthy qualitative and commercial heights, other authors - today unjustly considered as "minor" and in any case forgotten by the general public and younger audiences - have given important lifeblood to the genre, with interesting variations on the theme, with works perhaps underrated but capable of keeping the viewer's attention and, above all, as in the film in question... being frightening.

The work of a painter/intellectual occasionally lent to cinema or television (recently author of the Rai fiction "Giorni da Leone"), the film in question represents, in my opinion, one of the highest peaks of the Italian thriller, alongside the more well-known "Profondo rosso" ('75) and "La casa dalle finestre che ridono" ('76), even surpassing those works in terms of mise-en-scène elegance and photography, as well as emotional impact.

First of all, I specify that "Il profumo della signora in nero" ('74) is not the typical rational-themed giallo, so dear to Argento and his epigones, and in some respects to Avati in the previously mentioned work, where the usual differently clad killer eliminates various humanity until the final "agnitio", but rather describes the drift of a fragile mind in relation to the unexpected entry of the unforeseen - and, in some respects, the supernatural - into her life.

The life of the protagonist Silvia Hackermann is initially described to us in its normality, from the upper-middle-class home in the Coppedè district of Rome to the daily employment at a chemical company, including sometimes problematic relations with her boyfriend and courteous contacts with neighbors, acquaintances, and friends.

After an evening spent with some of her boyfriend's colleagues, including an African who playfully alludes to the supernatural traditions and events of his homeland, Silvia’s life changes slowly, in an imperceptible yet significant way: fatigue, little desire to work, persistent memories of an unhappy past and a conflicted relationship with her deceased mother and her lover, nervousness, and difficulty relating to others. From here, in a slow descent into hell, visions of her dead mother - so vivid they seem real - unexpected gifts from a stranger directly referring to the young woman's childhood, participation in a disturbing séance, the sudden death of her friend and neighbor, increasingly intense relationships with an elderly widower who lives on the same landing as the woman. And then the appearance of a mysterious little girl, whom only Silvia seems to see, who settles in her house and weaves an ambiguous relationship of daughterhood/sisterhood with the film's protagonist. When the unnatural becomes part of Silvia's life, the realization of a repressed trauma leads the woman to increasing aggressiveness and fear, leading to the film's tragic climactic scene, culminating in a final twist that completely reverses the story's sense, making it simply more chilling.

There should be rivers of ink spilled on this work, but for Debaser's readers, I believe some summary considerations around certain focal points of the film are more appropriate, clarifying why it is, in some respects, an exceptional work and worthy of being rediscovered or seen for the first time.

From a content perspective, while partially reconnecting to well-known models like Hitchcock (Marnie) and Polanski (Repulsion), "Il profumo della signora in nero" subverts many commonplaces of the giallo-thriller genre, altering the usual sequence of "crime-investigation-discovery of the culprit" that characterizes literature and cinema, which primarily moves within a rationalizing 19th-century framework where the detective restores violated equilibrium and recomposes shattered reality (think, paradigmatically, of the mirror reconstruction in "Profondo Rosso"). In Barilli's film, the paradigm is entirely different because, without giving too much away about the story's outcomes, the story develops along the directive of "identification of the victim and the murderer-crime-discovery of the culprit", leaving the viewer completely devoid of reference until the film's concluding scenes.

Precisely adhering to the atypical development of the plot, there are no scenes of violence until the last ten minutes of the work, where, on the contrary, there is an escalation that, at first, gives the film almost the character of a "slasher movie", revealing only at the peak of violent pathos the true nature of the events involving Silvia Hackermann.

From a formal perspective, the film is perhaps even more important. It should be noted that Barilli, as a painter, particularly focuses on the film's scenographic setting, which primarily develops in interiors characterized by, on one hand, extremely realistic furnishings and, on the other, the intrusion of entirely artificial and unreal lights (purple, green, blue, red), which play an essential role in creating a noxious atmosphere and in the story's development, serving a narrative function: echoing the protagonist's moods, or even anticipating the existence of dangers or "apparitions", the lights themselves are protagonists of the film. Partly anticipated by Bava in "Sei donne per l'assassino" ('64), this game would be taken to extremes by Argento in "Suspiria" ('77) and, above all, in "Inferno" ('80), which, in some respects, is strongly influenced by the film in question, both in the story's underlying sense and in the choice of Roman locations (the house is the same seen in Inferno).

The quality of the direction, photography, and filming is particularly noteworthy, especially since Barilli made use of some members of Antonioni's crew, capturing interiors of a now-bourgeois, now-ancient, always-decadent Rome. Also extremely valid are the music by newcomer Nicola Piovani.

Some narrative ideas would be plundered in the subsequent decades by unsuspected authors: from Kubrick, who in "Shining" ('80) dresses the twins the same way - except for the colors - as the little girl living with Silvia Hackermann, to Verbinski, who in "Ring" ('03) has Samara's mother appear like the protagonist's mother in this film.

Lastly, some notes on the performances: excellent the protagonist Mimsy Farmer, already seen in "Quattro mosche di velluto grigio", particularly immersed in the role, but truly excellent are the characterizations of all supporting characters, with a particular mention for Mario Scaccia as the widower and Orazio Orlando as Silvia's mother's lover.

In summary, a must-see film: both for its intrinsic quality and historical value and for its aptitude to scare: I won't tell you why, but throughout the story, there are three or four surprises that - if they don't cause you sleepless nights - will leave unpleasant sensations lingering in your mind.