Mario Bava
Operazione Paura

I want to talk to you about Mario Bava (1914-1980), the grandfather of Fantaghirò, Desideria, and Sorellina, but also the father of a way of making cinema that has had much to teach and apparently still serves as a school. We are in the realm of Gothic Horror, but it's Italian horror, post-war, where nothing is wasted, and so tripe in the Roman style and tomato puree become guts and blood, intestines, … all for a little more than 10,000 lire. Some actors were embarrassed to say they had acted in Mario Bava's films because the set was indecent, and the scenes they had to film, from the actor’s perspective, looked ridiculous. Only by watching the film as spectators would they change their minds.

'Operazione Paura' (also known as "Kill, Baby, Kill") is a celebration of making cinema with a plate of pasta and a glass of wine; the budget is extremely low, but there are so many ideas, so fervent that the film seems not to be penalized at all by the lack of resources (it was shot in 20 days). To get to the point, the film is about a doctor (Giacomo Rossi Stuart), who goes to the small medieval village (although I think the film is set in the 1800s), where he has just obtained a practice. Once there, he immediately becomes aware of the unusual situation of the inhabitants: mysterious deaths, rumors, ravings, … he begins to investigate, slowly discovering the deranged and sick truth. I cannot go further.

The film is a true cult classic; all the greats of world cinema recognize its influence (one above all, Quentin Tarantino); the settings overflowing with colors, the warm, at times almost sultry photography, the psychedelia of certain scenes. If we really want to find a flaw, we can talk about the acting of the actors, certainly not above average, but then again, the production was what it was, so one could certainly not have a Marcello Mastroianni. Bava settled for Giacomo Rossi Stuart (father of Kim) and Erika Blanc, the two main characters, around whom the entire film revolves and the protagonists of the most hallucinated scenes in the film, such as the doctor chasing himself in a room whose exit door opens onto the room itself, creating an extraordinary effect of disorientation for the spectator. Another great scene is the never-ending spiral staircase, creating an effect similar to the one just mentioned. Not to forget the ethereal little girl playing with her white ball, an emblem of the film and a key presence to understand the whole story: even Fellini was impressed by it, reinventing the character in his Toby Dammit (the third episode of the film "Tre passi nel delirio," a small masterpiece).

Only recently reevaluated, Mario Bava's filmography surely deserves a prominent place within Italian cinema, if only for the genius of such works, which cost very little but are today, March 5, 2007, of inestimable value.

"Question: How do you explain that the French and Americans appreciated your films much more than we did?
Mario Bava: Because they are sillier than us!"