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DANGER
: DIABOLIK!
5+/10
aka
Diabolik aka Danger : Diabolik
Italy
(Ity-Fr) 1968 : Mario BAVA : 82 mins (alt. versions run 99 and 105 mins)
Garishly mixing
Batman (filmed in 1966) and Barbarella (1968), Bava’s comic-strip
adaptation provides a fair amount of daft, decadent fun before running
out of steam around the hour mark. Barbarella co-star John Phillip
Law cuts a wooden figure with or without his mask as Diabolik (pronounced
“dyer-bollick”), a stylish criminal mastermind tormenting the government
of an unspecified, generic European country. Aided by the suitably glamorous
Eva (Marisa Mell), Diabolik pulls off a series of wildly audacious raids
– culminating in an explosive assault on the nation’s tax institutions.
Prodded by his increasingly-embarrassed minister-of-the-interior boss
(Terry-Thomas), veteran cop Inspector Ginko (Michel Piccoli, dubbed) enlists
the aid of gangland bigwigs in his fight against Diabolik, and eventually
tracks down the uber-thief to his opulent underground lair...
Given that
Bava is renowned for his extravagant use of colour, it’s unfortunate that
this review is based on the screening of an abbreviated, black-and-white
print*. Even so, on this unsatisfactory evidence Diabolik doesn’t
seem to have dated especially well. Scriptwriters Bava and Adriano Baracco
cobble together spectacular and extravagant antics into a somewhat laborious
plot that lumbering alternates between the stuffy, old-fashioned forces
of law and order, and the strikingly futuristic world of their seemingly
unstoppable foe. While Terry-Thomas splutters and fumes in suit and tie,
Law and Mell get to strut around in a series of cutting-edge outfits in
a subterranean pad that’s filled with ultra-modern design and architecture.
It’s tempting
to take this a step further, and interpret Diabolik in terms of
1960s Italian politics: our ‘hero’ is a swashbuckling, opportunistic individualist,
staging attacks on the manifestations of ‘decent’ society. He’s the criminal
as agent of iconoclastic (and anarchic?) social upheaval, railing against
the staid morals of the post-war generation. But he goes too far – the
climax sees him engulfed by molten gold, and transformed into a living
statue. While Bava coyly implies that he will escape to fight another
day, at fade-out Diabolik stands as a symbol of the rampant capitalist
imprisoned by the trappings of his own vulgarity.
But while
Diabolik isn’t without its intriguing subtexts, the film doesn’t
hang together especially well as entertainment. Bava makes no attempt
to hide Law and Mell’s acting limitations (both really are “just a pretty
face”), this being presumably intended to be all part of the stylised,
ironic fun. But a little of this kind of knowingly cheesy campery (“this
laser gun melts everything except you, honey!”) goes rather a long way.
The film is too silly for adults, but clearly not intended for children:
this much is made clear by Ennio Morricone’s way-out, prog-synthy score
- which is, nevertheless, the most consistently entertaining and impressive
aspect of the whole overcooked affair.
Neil Young
28th February,
2004
(*82-minute black-and-white version seen CineSide,
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 22nd February)
by Neil
Young
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