It is nearly impossible to bring up 'Lucio Fulci' and 'giallo' without also bringing up Dario Argento; and while some will claim that Argento is the go-to-guy for stylish thrillers splashed with deliberate, often ostentatious uses of Technicolor, I am of the opinion that Fulci had the better stories (and sense of realism).
"The New York Ripper" strikes the same hostile notes of urban squalor that William Friedkin mined in his much-vilified 1980 effort, "Cruising"; only instead of a serial killer stalking patrons of the leather scene, Fulci has his slasher mutilating beautiful women in creatively gruesome ways (it is saying something that the film is still effective 25 years later). Unlike his previous forays into more supernatural terrain ("City of the Living Dead"; "The Beyond"), "Ripper"'s story holds together surprisingly well: down-and-out Lieutenant Fred Williams (Jack Hedley) enlists the aid of Dr. Davis (Paolo Malco--"House by the Cemetery"), a psychology professor who collaborates on the case; it is only when the killer lets one of his victims (Almanta Keller) go that the story starts to unravel. Along the way, we're treated to the specter of 42nd Street, live sex shows, kinky situations (including a suspenseful sequence where a woman bound to a bed escapes the alleged killer sleeping next to her), and an onslaught of brutality; Fulci has never been bashful when it comes to gore, and one can imagine his own demons being exorcised with each violent act portrayed in this film. Excessive, cringe-worthy, yet undeniably creative--there are extremes in "Ripper" that have not been equaled since. Yet Fulci's knack for creating suspense is also on full display (a very well-done scene on the Staten Island Ferry, for instance), along with his restless/invasive camera work (a great POV sequence wherein the police raid a suspect's apartment) that leaves no filth uncovered. Depending on your personal taste, "The New York Ripper" may be the kind of film that requires a shower after watching...and I mean that in the best possible way. They certainly don't make'em like this anymore.
"The New York Ripper" strikes the same hostile notes of urban squalor that William Friedkin mined in his much-vilified 1980 effort, "Cruising"; only instead of a serial killer stalking patrons of the leather scene, Fulci has his slasher mutilating beautiful women in creatively gruesome ways (it is saying something that the film is still effective 25 years later). Unlike his previous forays into more supernatural terrain ("City of the Living Dead"; "The Beyond"), "Ripper"'s story holds together surprisingly well: down-and-out Lieutenant Fred Williams (Jack Hedley) enlists the aid of Dr. Davis (Paolo Malco--"House by the Cemetery"), a psychology professor who collaborates on the case; it is only when the killer lets one of his victims (Almanta Keller) go that the story starts to unravel. Along the way, we're treated to the specter of 42nd Street, live sex shows, kinky situations (including a suspenseful sequence where a woman bound to a bed escapes the alleged killer sleeping next to her), and an onslaught of brutality; Fulci has never been bashful when it comes to gore, and one can imagine his own demons being exorcised with each violent act portrayed in this film. Excessive, cringe-worthy, yet undeniably creative--there are extremes in "Ripper" that have not been equaled since. Yet Fulci's knack for creating suspense is also on full display (a very well-done scene on the Staten Island Ferry, for instance), along with his restless/invasive camera work (a great POV sequence wherein the police raid a suspect's apartment) that leaves no filth uncovered. Depending on your personal taste, "The New York Ripper" may be the kind of film that requires a shower after watching...and I mean that in the best possible way. They certainly don't make'em like this anymore.