Superspectrum keyboardist Klaus Lund during the Opterà sessions, c. 1976
Opterà
from Opterà (1977) Marta Inzaghi — drums Klaus Lund — organ, harpsichord Vonetta Gayle — bass Giosuè Foà — violin Graziano Allam — guitar Kaspar Marwitz — bongos, percussion
Main theme / opening credit sequence. At its outset, Araldo Avignonesi’s Opterà makes a pretense of being a financial thriller, with murder and corruption unfolding around a widespread banking scandal; however, the threads of economic intrigue are discarded almost immediately. Instead, the film quickly shifts focus to philandering reporter Liberato Zummo (Bruno Impellizzeri) and his descent into debauched madness as he attempts to unravel the mystery surrounding a garroted banker. Despite a confused story and significant recutting following the director’s death in an automotive accident, the production is nevertheless considered one of Avignonesi’s most accomplished, with every shot beautifully and meticulously orchestrated. The potential existence of a lost director’s cut has led to speculation among some modern observers that it may have included sequences too closely inspired by actual persons and events for the studio’s comfort, but little evidence exists to support this. In fact, in a 1982 interview with Lentille, Avignonesi’s long-time friend and cinematographer Cesare Omo insisted he had done his best to uphold the director’s vision “with the full support of the studio”, despite a dwindling budget and intrusive deadlines.
The Contessa’s Seduction from Cruel Touch of the Endless Night (1972)
Imelda Bongiovanni — vocals Don Sergio — guitar, mandolin Csongor Eötvös — drums, bongos Lorenza Fermi — vibraphone Teobaldo Parlatore — piano, organ Émile Choicy — bass Bogdan Tsereteli — trumpet
While recuperating at the isolated castle, Maddalena finds herself unable to resist the dreamlike advances of the mysterious Contessa. A steamy, psychedelic fever from director Francesco De Luca, Cruel Touch of the Endless Night falls squarely into the erotic vampire subgenre. Standing on the shoulders of the previous year’s Daughters of Darkness from Kümel, Rollin’s The Shiver of the Vampires, and most obviously Franco’s Vampyros Lesbos, De Luca nevertheless applied his own aesthetics to the genre’s tropes. Less painterly in his composition than Kümel and more surreal in his horror than Franco, De Luca’s Endless Night presages an almost Lynchian terror combined with copious sex. Nadia Delucci’s otherworldly and compelling presence as the Contessa lends additional strength to the film (and could give even Vampyros Lesbos’ Soledad Miranda a run for her money), but an unfortunately workman script and often stilted dialog prevent it from reaching as high as it may have.
Original Italian LP cover from the 1972 release of the Cruel Touch of the Endless Night soundtrack
Empty Streets / Wine & Danger from In the Company of a Killer (1975)
Don Sergio — guitar, baritone guitar Vonetta Gayle — bass Vittore Svizerri — percussion, bells Giancarlo Reza — piano, organ, synthesizers, Mellotron, Fender Rhodes The Superspectrum Studio Orchestra — strings
Unseen fear follows the friends through the city’s empty streets. Eleonora and Viola finally unwind at the hotel bar, but each feels the tension of suspicion and danger. A competent mid-period giallo-thriller, Alessio Rossi’s In the Company of a Killer is mostly noteworthy for having two female leads who are both the investigators and potentially the killer. Melissa Sabbatini as Viola and Beatrice Giordano as Eleonora elevate the film with quality performances as two friends forced to take matters into their own hands as death follows their vacation across the continent. Despite their friendship, each begins to suspect the other is hiding secrets, eventually leading the pair to unravel into paranoia. The killer’s point-of-view shots, while not groundbreaking, are used to great effect to build tension through dramatic irony; a motif of the unknown killer hiding in plain sight in an environment presumed to be safe recurs throughout, and is one of the stronger elements of the film.
Beatrice Giordano & Melissa Sabbatini share a laugh between takes during filming
Swinging Cultists
from The Shadow Behind the Spectrum (1975)
Don Sergio — guitar, electric sitar Csongor Eötvös — drums Teobaldo Parlatore — piano, organ Émile Choicy — bass Ulisse Sal & Gruppo Due — ensemble vocals Lorenza Fermi — vibraphone Bogdan Tsereteli — trumpet
Luca and Irene attend the gala, but they don’t realize that many of the socialites around them are members of the same secret society that wants them dead. A strange outing from regular giallo director Matteo Alfonsi, The Shadow Behind the Spectrum is sometimes compared to Sergio Martino’s All the Colors of the Dark, released the same year. Both are often counted as gialli, despite not fitting within the genre well at all, focusing more on sinister conspiracies and the occult rather than black-gloved killers. The latter film, of course, had the benefit of Edwige Fenech’s star power, though Spectrum certainly makes do with lesser-known actors. Featuring Sofia Bassani’s not inconsiderable charm as Irene, the plot sees her and new husband Luca (played with appreciable good nature by Nicolo Lagorio) become the targets of a mysterious and possibly malevolent secret society after receiving her father’s inheritance. The film abounds in ambiguity but manages to stay engaging, thanks largely to the expertise of veteran cinematographer Cosimo Gagliardi, whose techniques gave the psychedelic occult sequences surrounding “the shadow” a true otherworldly impact. The film’s climax, in particular, combines impressive staging and cinematography with the tangible on-screen chemistry between Bassani and Erika Masin as the secret society’s leader. The lack of a cohesive ending to the story, however, did not bode well for Spectrum’s financial success, and the film remains rather obscure. Nicolo Lagorio & Erika Masin in The Shadow Behind the Spectrum
Sequence 2
from Children of the Witches’ Elm (1974) Teobaldo Parlatore — piano, organ Émile Choicy — bass Don Sergio — guitar, mandolin Wallace Winterbourne — Mellotron, synthesizers Csongor Eötvös — drums
Tristan is once again confronted with surreal glimpses of the truth behind the secluded village. Children of the Witches’ Elm, directed by Alessio Rossi, is an odd beast. With a script by screenwriter Morgan L. Ackerman and starring fellow Englishman Oscar Seaver, Witches’ Elm was a fairly blatant attempt by the studio to cash in on the relative success of 1973’s The Wicker Man. Following his father’s mysterious death, Seaver’s Tristan returns to his ancestral hometown, a small pastoral village in the shadow of the Italian Alps. There, he meets a beautiful young widow named Carlotta (played with relish by a then-unknown Annalisa Durante) and seeks to learn more about his father’s history. Of course, the idyllic township belies dark secrets, complete with sinister rites conducted around an ancient, pre-Roman dolmen jutting from the earth below the titular tree. Needless to say, Tristan doesn’t make out quite like he expected, although he does fare somewhat better than Sergeant Howie did on Summerisle. Rossi executes Ackerman’s script reasonably well, though the English release is marred somewhat by exceptionally poor dubbing even by the standards of the time; Seaver was the only native speaker in the cast, and due to an unfortunate studio fire, the ADR facilities were sadly lacking.
Poster for the British theatrical release of Children of the Witches’ Elm
Ritual of the Sun from Epsilon’s Breadth (1976)
Vonetta Gayle — bass Klaus Lund — piano, organ, synthesizers Kaspar Marwitz — vibraphone, percussion Vittore Svizerri — percussion, bells Don Sergio — guitar
The sun rises over the aftermath of Agent Equinox’s final mission; the end credits roll. Truly a strange film, director Morton Pembroke billed the British-Italian Epsilon’s Breadth as an “occult noir spy thriller” loosely based on J.D. Frost’s 1958 espionage novel The Autumn Nuance. The film stars Roland St. Exeter as Agent Verne Equinox, a former SAS airman with latent psychic abilities. Wildly ambitious or deeply unfocused depending on whom you ask, Epsilon sees Pembroke apply almost Jodorowsky-like surrealism and mysticism to Frost’s tense plot, in addition to peppering it with oblique homages to the short-lived American science fiction / spy series The Man From Y.E.T.I.. This marriage decidedly did not sit well with critics, who were less than impressed when it was released; pithy reviews such as the oft-repeated “highly innovative; nearly unwatchable” from Charlie Grist of the Illustrated London News earned it a degree of infamy. In more recent years, however, the film has found a small but fervent cult following, even resulting in a planned feature-length documentary which purports to examine the numerous interpretations of the film’s occult symbolism and allegorical nature.
Engineer Édouard Berberian during a mixing session for Epsilon’s Breadth, c. 1975
Dreaming Sparrow (Eleonora’s Theme) from In the Company of a Killer (1975)
Don Sergio — guitar, baritone guitar Vonetta Gayle — bass Kaspar Marwitz — vibraphone, percussion Giancarlo Reza — piano, organ, synthesizers, mellotron, Fender Rhodes
All songs composed by MASSIMO E MASSIMO Created by Cayce Crane & Kyle Tierce Produced & arranged by Kyle Tierce Mixed & mastered by “Dusty” Jim Moreland Additional engineering by Gilderoy Jones Archival film information compiled by Cayce Crane with additional assistance from Jean-Paul Berberian, Kyle Tierce, the Rossi Foundation & the KSRA © 2019 Superspectrum Music Library