The New York Ripper (1982)

Director: Lucio Fulci

Writer(s): Fulci, Dardano Sacchetti, Gianfranco Clerici, and Vincenzo Mannino

Starring:  Jack Hedley, Almanta Suska, Howard Ross, and Andrea Occhipinti

Depending on who you ask, Lucio Fulci’s The New York Ripper has either achieved cult status as one of the director’s best, and most brutal films, or is panned as being a cruel, misogynistic film with little-to-no redeeming qualities.  The former viewpoint is generally shared with fans of Italian horror cinema, or more specifically, the Italian “giallo” film, which is basically the Italian equivalent of the American slasher film; the latter, is shared by virtually every film critic who has seen it.

It is true that just about all of its violence is directed at female characters, and is shown in sometimes cringe-inducing detail; it is actually these qualities that I find most intriguing.  But rather than load the film up with graphic deaths, Fulci lets his foot off the gas about midway through, leading to a long gap between any murders.  And like many Fulci flicks, when there is no blood, it’s painfully boring.  So much so that my wife and I got up to do other things while just allowing this to run as background noise; when that still didn’t lead to anything, I eventually fast-forwarded it to the next violent scene, which mercifully happened to take us to the ending.

Typical of many Italian horror flicks released in the States, The New York Ripper features actors of all nationalities speaking in their native tongues, with all of it overdubbed into English.  While I find it to be an annoying trait (I would rather just have English subtitles), it’s made even moreso by the absolutely terrible dialogue, which is often unintentionally hilarious, although the terrible voice acting certainly didn’t help.  About the only good decision in the sound design is the batshit crazy idea to have the killer talk like a certain popular cartoon duck (?). While it may sound terrible (and for some folks, the execution will be as dumb as it sounds), I thought it was incredibly effective, and was one of the few genuinely brilliant ideas in a movie that is clearly content with achieving mediocrity.

Still, there are enough moments of graphic bloodshed to keep fans of violent cinema entertained for at least a few minutes, with the climactic scene (involving a razor blade and several parts of a woman’s body) being so effective that they are virtually “must see” moments of cinema brutality.  I certainly can’t recommend it as any sort of a classic, even within Fulci’s limited resume, but there might be enough here for gorehounds looking for a quick fix…just don’t expect much more than that.

RECAP:  In the film’s first-half, the misogyny and graphic violence actually combine to create an appropriately menacing atmosphere; one that is helped along by the peculiar decision to have the killer talk like a duck (?).  But by allowing the deaths to stop, and the focus on ‘whodunit’ to take over, all the momentum of the first half is gone, and there’s very little to recommend, beyond the sparse, yet impressive, bursts of violence.

SCORE: 4/10

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