Interrabang (1969)

It is neither dumb nor smart enough to be fun, and spends way too much time with its boring human characters.

While it doesn't offer any answers, it both thrills and makes you think.

This movie feels like it was made purely to piss off people who want good shows

Strong acting helps the film overcome an uncertain premise and create characters that hold our attention absolutely.

Nothing happens in this until the final 10 minutes. And there's nothing at all "giallo" about it. My recommendation? Watch the 1st 10 minutes until you've had enough of sailing. Skip ahead and watch another random 10 minutes until you've had you eyeful of the lovely ladies. Then watch the last 10 minutes for the twists and turns.

This is the kind of late sixties film featuring jaded women, sick of free loving but not sick of talking crap, looking for fresh thrills on a yacht with a similarly free living photographer/playboy type. What's a guy to do when the yacht breaks down and you need to go to Kwik Fit to pick up another? Why, just leave them babes to sunbathe on a remote island - that's what!These babes consists of bored looking, miniscule bikini clad Valeria, microscopic bikini wearing nympho Margherita, and slightly bigger beach wear wearing Anna. Each woman reacts differently to the presence of sexy possible poet but also possibly an escaped murderer, Marco. When I say 'react'. I mean, 'barely react at all and shed clothes'.The characters in this film actually remind me of the burned out rich folk of Bret Easton Ellis' books, except without the graphic sex and violence (there's neither in this film by the way). Even when Valeria finds the dead body of a guy, she simply just walks away and doesn't mention it to anyone. Without fannying about too much and beating around the bush, Interrabang is a borderline arty giallo where not much happens at all, has a lot of jibber jabber (including even referencing Giallo books!), but then again looks really beautiful, has Euro babes lounging about, and a nice score. The ending made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever and every other review explains what an Interrabang is, so I'm outta here.

Fifteen years after he had been a protégé of Roberto Rossellini in 1953, Italian director Giuliano Biagetti somewhere stumbled across the term "Interrabang" (now consult your dictionary, per favore) and decided to knit the ultimate meta-thriller around it. The whole intertextual stupor begins with pseudo-existentialist banter between photographer Fabrizio and three trendy dolls (among them Haydee Politoff, who had played the lead role in the first installment of Rohmer's contes moraux, La collectionneuse, two years before) while heading to a rocky island for a fashion shooting, where a blue-eyed poet/ psycho is already waiting for the bikini bunch. The ensuing beach party is refined with Fitzgerald quotes, Daft One Dialogue ("How did you kill your woman?" "I didn't kill her. She was already dead for me."), the per se not-too-bad theme by Berto Pisano varied and overused to the retchy max, plus three dozen ultra-fishy "twists" buzzing off to Spasticland, breakneck-style. When Roberto Rossellini met Biagetti after the premiere, he put an arm around his old colleague's shoulders and told him a little secret about thrillers and postmodernist stunts, though Biagetti didn't listen because he was busy shaking hands with some stunning brunette in those very seconds. "It's no use breaking the rules, amico mio", Rossellini said, "if you don't even know 'em."

This movie is kind of a combination of an early "Diabolique"-style giallo with lots of plot twists and turns, and an island paradise sex romp in the spirit of such films as "The Seducers", "Il Dio Serpiente", and "Wave of Lust". It is more arty, or some might say more pretentious than most gialli or most island-lust flicks. It kind of resembles a couple Antonioni films like "La Aventurra" or (especially at the end) "Blow Up". A photographer is sailing with his wife (Beba Rancor), her sister (Haydee Politoff), and his nymphomaniacal model (Shoshanna Cohen). He leaves the three women alone to get a part for his boat. A mysterious man (Umberto Orsini)shows up, who might be an escaped criminal the police are searching for. This doesn't alarm the three women too much, and he rapidly seduces each of them. Nor are they particularly worried about the dead body of a police officer that appears and then vanishes. These woman are such bored, jaded bourgeoisie types that they don't even seem to care that this handsome stranger might be planning to kill them. The ending combines the surprise plot twists of "Diabolique" and the reality-confounding denouement of "Blow Up", and throws in yet another nasty surprise to boot.The movie does look very good and both the scenery and the actors are gorgeous. There's a lot less violence than in a typical gialli (especially the later ones) and less nudity than in a typical sex romp (only Cohen has brief nude scenes, but all three of the luscious actresses spend the entire film in the skimpiest bikinis imaginable in the 1960's).The title comes from a necklace the Politoff character is wearing of an interrabang, a question mark and a an exclamation point ("?!"). She delivers some philosophical speech early on about the existential meaning of the symbol, but it really makes little sense. Whatever the case though, it is a good title for THIS movie which is an alternately bizarre (?) and impressive (!).