Director Paolo Cavara started out in the world of mondo filmmaking, working with fellow collaborators Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi on the influential Mondo Cane and, later, Malamondo; but in 1971, he joined the giallo movement with the intriguingly-titled The Black Belly of the Tarantula. Unlike a number of other gialli, this one wasn’t based off a pre-existing work in the Italian pulp library; instead, it came from a story by Marcello Danon and was adapted into screenplay form by Lucile Laks. Cavara presents many of the tropes of the genre in this potboiler about a series of murders involving women who are being blackmailed about their sexual proclivities, all featuring the same MO: a needle inserted in the neck to paralyze the woman while the sex maniac eviscerates them while still alive. However, as many have pointed out, The Black Belly of the Tarantula also creeps into poliziotteschi territory fairly often as it follows its main character Tellini (Giancarlo Giannini), a detective working on the case whose personal life becomes intertwined with the investigation.
Cavara’s premise revolves around the idea of feminine promiscuity and voyeurism. The movie’s opening murder is both seductive and viscerally disturbing, with the viewer subjected to various point-of-view shots watching as the murderer phallically jabs a needle into Barbara Bouchet’s skin before savagely desecrating her body. The Black Belly of the Tarantula interestingly provides ample graphic sexually-tinged killings – there’s no rape, just violation – that are both obvious titillations and yet statements about female agency. The killer’s modus operandi is to incapacitate the victim, to make them limp but aware before their final endurance – which later becomes the crux of the killer’s own psychological illness. Laks’ script, however, gives these women ample power throughout the movie: Bouchet’s character Maria is a sexually liberated woman; another victim helps run a secret drug-smuggling ring; and Laura (Claudine Auger) owns a popular women’s spa where she gets all of her material for blackmail. While none of these characters are guiltless, they’re also much more empowered than typical slasher fodder, which becomes an even bigger affront to the killer’s impotence as explored in the film.
In short, The Black Belly of the Tarantula feels like an early exploration of the male inferiority complex and the more contemporary “red pill” movement. Cavara is obviously interested in utilizing the ideas that made the giallo so popular – here, instead of the typical black leather gloves, we see the killer don a very cool pair of gold-colored plastic gloves to tie into the spa setting – but also circumventing the typical male gaze related to sexual violence. That’s even more so the case when Tellini accidentally shows his own sex tape to his police force after assuming it was some sort of evidence of the killer’s identity; the all-male audience mocks and goads this upsetting personal voyeurism rather than immediately shutting if off, another reference to male vulgarity even from a group meant to protect the victims.
The film does unfortunately flag in its middle half, with its focus on the police investigation and Tellini’s wavering confidence in his own abilities getting in the way of the murder proceedings. The film’s conclusion is also somewhat lackluster; since the killer is only tangentially related to the overarching plot, there’s no real way for the audience to organically solve the case, and it relies on explicit exposition to connect the dots. Being able to solve the case through the merits of the storyline isn’t always a necessity, but here it feels like giving clues was an afterthought instead of tightening the narrative structure.
Even so, The Black Belly of the Tarantula is an enjoyable entry in the giallo genre that covers all of the common elements while offering a unique murder method that actually makes good use of its title. It’s both tawdry and nuanced, thematically resonant and exploitative at the same time.
The Black Belly of the Tarantula 4K UHD Review
Celluloid Dreams continues their lineup of stellar giallo releases with The Black Belly of the Tarantula released in a four-disc special edition package loaded with material. Arguably, this release probably has more variations of the film than most people will even attempt to watch. First and foremost is the 4K UHD disc, which features both the original 1.37:1 original aspect ratio as well as a matted 1.85:1 version; the film did make theatrical rounds with this widescreen version that, because of its more zoomed presence, tends to remove some of the great cinematography from the film’s intended shots. Both options are lovingly restored from the original 35mm camera negative, and no matter which version you choose, the image quality is excellent. Medium-bodied grain reveals loads of depth and detail, especially when it comes to the film’s excellent 1970s background decor and clothing textures. Skin tones are consistent in grading. The HDR-10 here elevates many of the film’s darker moments, providing deep blacks while maintaining good clarity and delineation. The other elements of the color grading reveal rich saturated reds and greens, most notable during the blackroom investigation. It’s clear a lot of work went into restoring this transfer, as documented in the accompanying transfer notes in the booklet, and audiences have most likely never seen the film looking like this. For Blu-ray, the two features are split onto two separate discs; this is because Celluloid Dreams has also provided international cuts in both aspect ratios. The international versions came from some inferior sources such as a Color Reversal Intermediate and a Spanish standard-definiton intermediate, and so are featured more for completionism than reference. Along with those alternative options, there’s also a “Grindhouse” version of the film available from an uncorrected positive print that showcases the film in a lurid pink hue.
For audio, Celluloid Dreams provides both Italian and English language with DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono tracks. However, the essay booklet notes that the Italian audio elements were significantly degraded, and so Celluloid Dreams has also offered a remixed/restored alternative version of the Italian audio to give audiences a choice for their preference. While the original Italian track is a bit more authentic, it does feature a particularly scratchy and audible background hiss that can impact the presentation. The new remixed version completely removes that hiss and is the vastly superior listening experience, though the booklet notes do say it’s sourced from an “incomplete high-fidelity source.” The English track features no such issues, and is actually not a bad dub. English subtitles are presented for both the Italian and English versions as some dialogue is changed.
Onto the extras! Celluloid Dreams has provided an entire extra disc of special features, along with a new audio commentary track from critic and Celluloid Dreams co-found Guido Henkel. Like always, it’s a thorough, well-researched discussion about the film, both diving into the production of the movie as well as critical analysis of the subtext and themes displayed throughout; it’s a recommended listen, especially after viewing the movie, since it gives a number of details one probably wouldn’t notice until after the killer reveal. There are a few new featurettes with cast and crew interviews. The first is with Edda Dell’Orso, vocalist for some of Ennio Morricone’s soundtrack, and she discusses her early career that led to her choral performances and ultimately working on film soundtracks with some major composers. An interview with Pietro Cavara, director Paolo Cavara’s son, details his early life and career with particular interests in travel that led to the mondo documentary style; later, he discusses the meticulous nature of the director and even recounts a very early memory on-set.
Two shorter archival interviews are also included. The first is again with Cavara’s son Pietro Cavara, who this time does some critical analysis of The Black Belly of the Tarantula. Lorenzo Danon, son of producer and writer Marcello Danon, gives a slightly longer interview with an overview of Danon’s career before more specifics about the production behind this film.
A new visual essay from Andy Marshall-Roberts highlights the giallo genre as whole before documenting The Black Belly of the Tarantula‘s place in it, particularly its similarities to other gialli such as The Bird with the Crystal Plumage and The Night Evelyn Came Out of the Grave. Another video essay from The Flying Machete Brothers/Howard S. Berger discusses the film’s use of abstraction and obfuscation of the killer that leads to objectification of its female victims; it particularly pinpoints certain sequences within the film with symbolic relevance to this critical analysis, as well as the movie’s use of mannequins throughout.
Celluloid Dreams has also assembled a number of trailers, including English and German, TV spots, and some censored Japanese VHS clips. Also included is an image gallery.
This special edition release also contains a number of physical extras. There’s reversible cover art featuring the Italian box art; a new hardbox case; and reproductions of a number of lobby cards. A booklet contains new essays from Jim Branscome and JA Kerswell, along with full-color photographs of location comparisons between those in the film and current photo shots. A lengthy explanation about the transfer rounds out the booklet. Also of note, the limited edition through Celluloid Dreams’ website comes with color fotobuste cards.
Extra Features
Disc 1 (4K UHD)
- NEW 4K transfer and full restoration with HDR-10
- NEW Commentary Track by film critic Guido Henkel
Disc 2 (Full Frame Blu-ray)
- NEW transfer from 4K master and full restoration
- NEW International version from restored 4K master
- NEW Commentary Track by film critic Guido Henkel
Disc 3 (Widescreen Blu-ray)
- NEW transfer from 4K master and full restoration
- NEW International version from restored 4K master
- NEW Commentary Track by film critic Guido Henkel
Disc 4 (Extras Blu-ray)
- NEW Grindhouse Version from 35mm theatrical print (1080p; 1:24:57)
- NEW English Trailer restored from 4K (1080p; 1:56)
- German trailer (1080p; 3:34)
- NEW English TV Spot (1080p; 1:03)
- NEW English TV spot (Grindhouse) (1080p; 1:02)
- NEW “The World of Paolo Cavara” Interview with director Paolo Cavara’s son, Pietro Cavara (1080p; 22:16)
- NEW “Made-up Words” Interview with soprano Edda Dell’Orso (1080p; 25:12)
- Archival Interview with producer Marcello Danon’s son, Lorenzo Danon (1080p; 16:06)
- Archival Interview with director Paolo Cavara’s son, Pietro Cavara (1080p; 4:54)
- NEW “What a Tangled Web We Weave” Video Essay by Andy Marshall-Roberts (1080p; 20:50)
- NEW “The Uncanny Peephole” Video Essay by Howard S. Berger (1080p; 22:35)
- NEW Image Gallery (chapter breaks; 2:04)
- Censored Japanese VHS clips (1080p; 0:24)
Physical Bonus
- NEW A 80-page booklet with an essay by Jim Branscome (Cinematic Void), an essay by JA Kerswell, and a collection of Then/Now location photographs by Andrea Girolami
- NEW A set of reprints of 16 publicity photographs from the original American press materials
Verdict
The Black Belly of the Tarantula is a particularly compelling giallo with a unique killer MO and an engaging poliziotteschi subplot. Celluloid Dreams’ release is excellent and is a must-have for fans of Italian cinema, from the immaculate video transfer to the illustrious set of extras included both on disc and as part of the physical box. Recommended.
