Although born from Italian pulp novels of the '30s, the giallo genre now seems to refer to cinema before referring to literature. And though Italians have the corner on giallo movies, French and Spanish filmmakers also took part in the craze during its heyday (1969-1982). It should come as no surprise that the two best Spanish gialli were written by and starred Paul Naschy, and directed by Klimovksy and Aured. The first in this pair of Freudian nightmares is Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll, directed by the latter. Instead of leaning on giallo plot descriptions to charm you into seeing this film (I'll save that for the next entry), I'd like to point out an entertaining facet of Naschy's oeuvre that is always overlooked, or at least only hinted at. More so than in any other Naschy film, Blue Eyes
shows you just how much Naschy loved his own body, or, shows you just how much he enjoyed sexually objectifying himself for the sake of his own movies. I can think of no other filmmaker, save for Woody Allen, who so reduces himself within his own work. With Allen the objectification is almost purely intellectual, maintaining that his superior intelligence, artistic talent, and neurotic charm should (and often does) result in his "getting the girl" by film's end. Naschy, however, takes every opportunity available to get naked (usually from the waist-up) in order to flex his superiority and his weakness at the same time. His superiority stems from his supporting cast finding his physique so irresistible; his weakness arises from the fact that he's almost always scarred, bruised, lacerated and beaten on or around his chest and torso, which allows many a woman to apply their apparently innate skills at wound dressing. It's fascinating to find a male filmmaker as comfortable as Naschy was with baring his body not for its own sake, but for the sake of all those who want to see it – one need only observe the angles at which Naschy shoots his nakedness once it hits the screen to know that it's all quite calculated. Perhaps due to the limitations forced upon him and other filmmakers by the censors of the time, Naschy took it upon himself to bear the brunt of a film's sensual/sexual quotient. Or maybe, Naschy was just an equal opportunity employer, who felt that there's no reason to lay the burden of sex-content solely on the female form. Either reason is fine by me, Señor Lobo! Aside from being a solidly entertaining and bloody thriller with a great plot and excellent acting across the board, Blue Eyes
provides an excellent introduction to the unique subject of Naschy's self-love.
Review of Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll
