When I read about this mid-'90s attempt to recapture the long-lost
g(l)ory days of the giallo - a uniquely Italian thriller genre first pioneered by Mario Bava (BLOOD AND BLACK LACE) and raised to dizzying new heights of dementia by Dario Argento (DEEP RED) - I was more than a little skeptical, especially after some particularly hideous "official" attempts to revive the form in its parent country (namely the nad-squeezingly awful BAD INCLINATION - see review). This being an American-made underground effort shot in Long Island on a micro-budget, I feared the worst.

Well, I'm relieved to say Joseph F. Parda's FIVE DEAD ON THE CRIMSON CANVAS is a superior film to BAD INCLINATION. Granted, the Super-8 epic I made at age eleven in which GI Joe battles a box turtle is also a far superior film to BAD INCLINATION. Nevertheless, this film is not without its merits. Oddly enough, this is also a Super-8 effort (Joe and the turtle are absent, but there is a fish), and the medium lends a seedy, porn-loop vibe that actually enhances the experience. Despite the obvious adherence to the styles of Bava, Argento and their peers, it more closely resembles the work of eccentric Z-movie auteurs like Andy Milligan, Ray Dennis Steckler and Ted V. Mikels. Not that this is a bad thing... it's just a very different thing.

After a sleazy shower-murder prologue, FIVE DEAD sets up a classic whodunit scenario with self-absorbed egomaniac painter Richard Streeb (Mony Damevsky) laughing off critics at a showing of his works - all of which celebrate violent death in its many horrific forms - and shortly afterward meeting a grisly end in his own home, at the hand of a mysterious black-clad intruder. The killer drags the body from the scene, and Streeb's skeletal wife Gloria (Liz Haverty) has a tough time convincing the police that a murder has actually taken place. The slovenly, accusatory inspector Andez (Xavier Domingo) berates Gloria for being drunk at the time and posits that she made the whole thing up... or perhaps did the deed herself.

Rushing to her aid is Richard's brother Bill (Joseph Zaso), a weirdly intense man who decides to circumvent Andez's investigation and do a little sleuthing on his own. These efforts lead him on a nightmarish tour of his brother's disturbing world, in which nearly everyone has a sleazy secret, and nothing is as it appears.

Without giving too much away, suffice to say Parda piles on the thriller clichés with reckless abandon. The list of suspects includes a slimy, pony-tailed agent who keeps pet piranhas (whom he deliberately starves until they turn on each other); Streeb's mute, voyeuristic butler (who has a secret peephole into their bedroom) and lesbian maid (who flings herself at Gloria's feet pleading "Let me serve you!"); the artist's goofy spiritual advisor (who turns tricks for extra cash); the prudish art critic who dons Irving Klaw-style bondage gear when alone in her apartment; plus other assorted freaks and nutcases. We also get a surreal dream sequence in which Richard performs gory kitchen-knife surgery on his brother; a totally bizarre poetry reading at an anachronistic beatnik coffee bar; and one of the most hideous sex scenes I've ever seen. Everything wraps up with a contrived "twist" ending that I'd already figured out by reading the synopsis on the DVD case.

Weirdly enough, within this film's strength - a grimy grindhouse atmosphere created by the cheap film stock used - lie the seeds of its downfall: the limitations of sync sound in this medium prompted the filmmakers to shoot the entire production silent, with all dialogue and sound effects post-dubbed prior to mixing down to videotape. In nearly all cases where this technique has been employed (I know, because I've done it myself), this process pulls the audience out of that creepy world and reminds us that this is a direct-to-video exercise. Subconsciously, the viewer expects to hear warm, scratchy audio accompaniment to the soft, grainy ambiance of the visuals - not the clean, canned audio environment we get here. Ironically, the Foley work is pretty good - when we get it, that is; some scenes have weirdly selective sound effects (like the opening murder, where we hear the shower curtain being pulled back, but not the victim's screams).

It also doesn't help that the post-synched dialogue is mind-numbingly awful. It's not really the actors' fault; clips from the audition tapes (included in the special features section) demonstrate that the cast is capable of delivering decent, naturalistic performances - despite being saddled with painfully hokey dialogue - but the plodding, lifeless dubbing turns most of them into monotonic talking heads. To make matters worse, Parda commits a common faux pas of the novice indie filmmaker - falling in love with his own writing and refusing to pare it down - thus forcing us to sit through endless scenes of people sitting around tables sipping cocktails and laying out exposition, all rendered in the same flat, hermetically-sealed dubbing style.

Another unfortunate feature is the undue attention paid to the music track by composer Jerry Djerassi. The piano/synth score is adequate (if rather '80s-sounding), but often mixed way too high - often at the expense of dialogue - and doesn't always match the mood of the accompanying action. The most egregious example is a bland scene in which Bill and Gloria sift through Streeb's belongings for clues - accompanied by huge, dramatic synth strings that obscure several of their lines.

Flaws aside, there is indeed plenty to enjoy here - some effective camera angles and an expressionistic primary color scheme (no small feat for notoriously tough-to-light Super-8) manage to capture Argento and Bava's visual flair, and there are numerous references to the masters' greatest works (a nod to DEEP RED's first murder is the most effective example). Parda even throws in a few witty comic asides for horror buffs (listen for the sound effect when Streeb's agent feeds his piranhas). The blood-soaked murder scenes are staged for maximum impact, and feature some appropriately tacky gore effects, which add to the sleazy fun. Visually, it's a skilled effort that promises an intriguing future for Parda... though I'd suggest he do a few more script polishes next time before plunging forward with half-baked source material.

The Cinema Image DVD package is comprehensive and entertaining, presenting what is probably the best print available; Super-8 reversal stock is soft-edged and grainy as hell, but again it's part of the charm. The print used is pretty dirty, with scratches aplenty, but if you're not expecting 35mm purity, it's par for the course. The compositions fit well within a 1.66:1 widescreen frame, and the titles, though added digitally, are soft enough to achieve a film look during the opening credits, which feature a bloody-skull image from one of Streeb's paintings.

Audio, as mentioned earlier, could have used some more attention. The mono mix is clear, but undue attention is paid to the score to the detriment of all other elements. Since the entirety of the audio was created in post-production, a 5.1 mix could have greatly enhanced the sound environment... but as it is, the dynamics of this track often pull the film down.

A decent compliment of extras includes feature commentary by Parda and Zaso (who also served as producer), in which they expound in great detail on the many films and filmmakers who inspired their work, and provide lots of background on the arduous process of do-it-yourself filmmaking - which should be quite informative for would-be auteurs. Other extras include trailers for this and other Cinema Image releases, the aforementioned audition reel, and an animated still gallery which includes production stills and behind-the-scenes candids. A single-page case insert contains liner notes by Paul J. Brown of IS IT UNCUT? Magazine, who hails the film as a heartfelt homage to the gialli of yore.

If upholding that spirit was the only yardstick by which to measure a film like this, 5 DEAD would pass with flying colors. Unfortunately, its significant creative and technical flaws subtract quite a bit from the desired effect. Whether this is enough to spoil the experience for you depends largely on whether you consider the home-grown 8mm look to be an effective touch, or a no-budget hindrance. I personally love both the giallo genre and Super-8 film, so it was appealing enough for me to enjoy the experience... but admittedly it's a tough call. Hopefully I've provided enough material here for you to decide for yourself, but I'm not making any promises.