Original subtitles

Yeah.

Come in.

Hey!

Hey.

You alive in there?

Yeah.

I found this USB in the city,

and it's full of all this crazy shit.

Folders of posters, stills, and scripts.

All by this Italian director

Saturnino Barresi.

I've never heard of this guy before, but his films are more colorful

than any Argento or Fulci movie.

Who?

Listen to this.

The only information on him.

Saturnino Barresi, born 1938,

considered by some to be the true father of Italian horror.

Saturnino Barresi directed three largely forgotten films:

La Maschera Rossa Della Contessa Strabica, La Morte Tag--well,

something like the Red Mask of the Cross-Eyed Countess,

Death Cuts a Dark Figure, and Violenza Violenza.

Barresi claims to have completed his debut months

before Mario Bava began production on La Ragazza Che Sapeva Troppo.

Accordingly, some, including directors Pupi Avati

and Umberto Lenzi, consider Death

Cuts a Dark Figure to be the first giallo film.

Barresi was last seen in Times Square, where he was scouting

location for his fourth film.

So where are these films?

Well, that's the thing.

None of his films are on the USB,

only this still from his last and lost movie.

City Wide Fever.

I mean, don't you already have enough old foreign directors to watch?

Chlo', this could be the project I've been looking for.

I record my Barresi hunt, rediscover his work, and turn it into a documentary.

Nothing more interesting than documenting the story

of another white male director.

Let me show you something that's a little more exciting.

What's that?

My sexy ass outfit for tomorrow's party.

You're going to want to eat me up.

Hello indigestion.

All right, we're heading up to see my college professor Keith.

He's kind of gross, but he's really smart.

And if there's anybody who would know anything about Barresi,

it would be him.

You breaking up with me?

We were never, um...

Precisely.

You can see anybody you want--

I- I just--

Sam, come on in.

Yeah, I think you maybe know Raina, I'm not sure--you were in

a--I think you two were in a class that I taught last semester.

Sam is an amazing writer.

She wrote one of the best papers I've read in a really long time, you know?

And what was it about?

I remember. Don't tell me.

I totally remember.

The inexplicable appeal of Euro-Sleaze Cinema, why we love it

so much, our uncanny, innate and somewhat nonsensical

attraction towards all things sexual and violent.

How is it that a certain number of us, a rarefied, bonded lot,

are so drawn to this strange genre that was so popular in the 1970s,

these strange movies without proper endings, dubious, poetic,

but very violent, you know, with characters that drop

like flies and women who are savagely murdered.

How is it that intellectuals like us

are drawn to such seemingly shallow films?

Anyway, it was a great paper that she wrote.

Sorry about that.

Raina and I were just discussing uh--an extracurricular assignment of some sort.

But I'm really glad that you contacted me about your findings.

Journals from all over the world are going to be contacting me

to publi-, contacting us to publish our unusual discovery.

So you have heard of Barresi?

No, I haven't heard of him.

But how, how can we publish anything if we haven't seen any of his movies?

Yeah, well, because I know someone

who has seen his movies or probably has seen his movies.

He's an old colleague of mine, a Korean cinematographer, who shot

all the significant giallo and slasher films in the 1970s and 80s.

He is really amazing. I don't know if you knew this,

most people don't, some people do, but most of the horror from that time period,

much like the American railroads in

the 19th century, was built on the backs of Oriental labor.

Did you know that?

Anyway, this guy, my colleague,

really talented, but he's been out of work since Giuliani shut down 42nd Street.

And I heard he's fallen on hard times.

But, if anybody's heard of

or seen Bersoni, Bar- Baress-

Barresi.

Barresi, Barresi, yeah, this guy.

He's probably- he's seen everybody.

So he knows everything.

Wow. That's, that's great.

So, can you introduce us?

I- you can give him my email, maybe.

He's a 60 year old Korean cinematographer.

He's not exactly a TikTok influencer.

So how am I supposed to find him?

It's not a matter of how, but where.

Okay? Times Square, Times Square.

It's not the beacon of sleaze that it once was, but it's going to take

a lot more than an M&M factory to push out the vermin.

And I'm pretty sure he never left 42nd Street, you know, so he still haunts

the area, is what I'm told, in a porn shop of all places, one of these

kind of old time relics, prurient sexual masturbation booths.

Sticky floor, sticky magazines, unctuous sweaty-

So I have to speak to every pervert

in Times Square?

I never said it was going to be easy.

And look, you can put your phone down

for five minutes and actually go talk to people.

You'll actually maybe find him. Yes, sure.

But he only speaks Korean, so- Do you know anyone who speaks Korean?

I cannot believe you dragged me into this.

How many best, best, best, best, best roommates do I have who speak Korean?

No idea, but they're clearly smart enough to have ignored you.

Now it's bad enough to exploit my heritage, but to do it in Times Square?

It will be fun.

A demented ethnography.

We can go to Red Lobster and visit the porn shops.

Sam, it's Adam's birthday party tonight.

I know.

Now I'm happy to look at dildos and harass tourists, but we only have two hours, okay?

Then we head uptown and go to the party. Deal?

All right.

If we can harass the tourists with the dildos you got yourself a deal.

Promise.

We gotta go soon, Sam, I'm sorry-

If you have to go then go, but I'm going to keep looking.

He has to be here somewhere.

Why the fuck do you care so much?

I mean, we have plans tonight, and you're trying to break them

to look for a man who might not even be real, recommended to you

by that random creepy professor who's just trying to get into your pants.

I mean, life isn't a movie-

Is that a porn shop?

I could swear we've been down here a million times.

There's nothing there.

Are you even listening?

Where are you going? Sam!

Fuck!

May I, uh, help you, miss?

Yeah.

Hi, you, you work here?

Let me be a lesson to you, young lady.

Making brilliant movies about human suffering doesn't necessarily pay the bills.

Unless you're Swedish, or your last name is Bergman.

Which reminds me, Larry, have you seen that box of Swedish

sex dolls we just got in?

Here we go, little lady.

Pussy sells.

Monster movies don't.

You ever try, uh, monster pussy?

It's like, y'know, a pretty good one.

I think they got a big,

I think they have a big VHS player that this fits in, in the $10 room.

If you only brought five bucks.

Yo, Mike, we'll handle the customer service here.

How can we help you, Samantha?

Well, I've been looking around this area all day.

It took me forever to find this place.

Only those who really want to come find it.

For the horny, by the horny.

Right, well, I'm looking for a cinematographer--he shot

a bunch of sleazy New York movies back in the day.

His name is Hong.

Yes, they never come looking for us anymore to talk to us, huh Laurence?

Well, I'm sorry, he's not going to shoot your movie.

Many have tried to convince him, but it doesn't work.

He's gone to greener pastures.

Oh he's dead?

He's doing inventory in the back.

Hi. Sorry, are you Hong?

No.

I'm looking for a cameraman.

I'm a sex man.

Violent movies, women dying, sex and blood.

Saturnino Barresi.

Did you say Barresi?

Yes. Saturnino Barresi.

I'm looking- I'm looking for him.

Can you tell me where he is?

Hey Hong, get the fuck back to work!

Tonight.

You, me, Brooklyn docks.

I will tell you about Barresi.

How do I know I can trust you?

City Wide Fever.

It feels like I'm

in my favorite movies, Chlo'.

Like narrative sense

and reasoning, like, out the window

in favor of some horrific and weird plot.

Not even in my wildest dream,

I could imagine myself on the hunt for a director, so-

Well, I just can't believe that we found him.

You did.

I had just left your ass.

And then you did.

And then this wild porn store

just appeared out of nowhere.

And Hong told me to meet him tonight.

And he knew the title of Barresi's final film.

If things go as planned-

Wait, so you're going to meet this

strange old Korean guy in some random location in Brooklyn?

Yeah.

I mean, why didn't he just tell you while you were there?

Is he aware you're not going to fuck him?

Chlo', if you had been there, you would know that he's as excited as I am.

Oh, so you are going to fuck him.

Because there are plenty of cuter guys-

Can you be serious for a second?

This is a big deal.

I'm being serious, Sam.

I'm also being realistic.

I mean, this isn't Sorority House Massacre.

We're at a friend's house getting drunk.

At least one of us is.

I thought that you'd drop the Nancy Drew act if I helped you out this afternoon.

We can't just enjoy ourselves?

And fun is discussing which of the people here we want to fuck?

Fun is you telling me that you're not interested in anyone here.

I'm not.

And when did

it become so fashionable to wear such baggy pants?

Why does it make me so happy to hear that?

That I miss skinny jeans?

No, that you don't like anyone here.

I don't know, Chloe. Why?

I like when you look at me like that.

Like what?

Like that.

Fuck, it's 11 already! Okay, I've got to go.

I'll see you at home.

Good luck with the boys.

Luck from you?

I must be doomed.

So you're saying that the man you saw earlier is dead,

and that you ran straight here to tell me that?

Was killed.

Was fucking murdered right in front of me.

I have the video on my phone, look.

Jesus.

I don't want to see your fucking snuff film, dude.

I mean,

I'm not trying to shit on your story, but surely this is a prank?

I mean, the man did horror movies.

It was dark, you were drunk.

I wasn't fucking drunk.

I remember everything, and I know what I saw.

For whatever reason, someone doesn't want me to know who Barresi is.

Do you even hear yourself right now?

You were in Gowanus, down the street from Whole Foods.

Your creepy obsession with horror and death isn't cute anymore, Sam.

I mean, you're starting to freak me out.

I'm not obsessed with death.

And this is real.

Or at least it feels real to me.

Reality is just what we tell each other it is.

Sane and insane

could easily switch places, if the insane were to become the majority.

You would find yourself in a padded cell.

Wait, what?

Look,

I've tried to explain it to you, Chlo'.

This is following the same

chaotic un-logic of the movies I love.

It doesn't have to abide by the rules of our world.

Oh, cut the shit, Sam.

It's real when you want it to be, and unreal when it's convenient for you.

Was it real when you poisoned my cat while I was at home for Jewish Easter last year?

Your cat ate my fucking EarPods, Chlo'.

I didn't poison anything!

I have to get this.

Whatever, Sam. I'm going to bed.

Enjoy your fucking torture porn.

Raina?

Hi. What's going on?

Listen, something is happening

between me, you, Keith, and that director you talked to him about.

What?

But how do you know about him?

I haven't told anybody.

Can you meet me in the city?

Now? I know it's late, but we need to talk.

Where do I go?

Hey. I came here as quickly as possible.

I just don't know what to do.

I am so freaked out and confused.

And I feel like a loser.

Raina. Slow down.

Start from the beginning.

I met Keith

my freshman year.

Taught my intro to film class,

and he was cool and smart and thoughtful, and he was nice to me.

So not like the other boys my age.

We talked for hours about the movies I loved, movies

no one else understood.

It's like he was saying earlier, Sam.

It's like he understood the weird hold they had over me.

And then he tried to fuck you.

And the worst part is, I let him.

We've been seeing each other for almost a year,

but he's as old as my dad and super possessive.

When you walked in on us the other day, I was trying to cut it off, but

he just wouldn't listen.

He gets so angry sometimes.

And I'm ashamed to say it, Sam, but

after I left his office the other day,

I stayed outside the door to hear what you had to say.

I guess I was jealous?

I don't know.

I'm just so confused.

Don't even worry about that right now.

This is not your fault.

He's so gross.

Well.

Last night, a few hours ago, actually,

I went over to his house to tell him we were 100% over.

He wasn't there,

so I went in to wait for him.

And that's when I saw his computer.

I'm so sorry, but Keith lied to you.

He had pages of information on that director, Saturno-

Saturnino Barresi?

Yeah, well, it's clear he had a lot more information

on the guy than he was letting on.

Well, what did he say?

I got closer to take a picture,

and I heard a door slam in his apartment, and I freaked and ran.

I didn't capture any of it.

But I know how important this is to you, and I know how much I fucking hate Keith.

So I asked a bunch of people for your number and contacted you.

And now.

And now?

We have a few hours until Keith takes off with this computer.

I say we sneak into his apartment and steal the information from that fucker.

Well, this

will finally come in handy.

I can pick the lock.

Or we could use the spare keys.

I was fucking him for a year, remember?

Shit!

Keith loves long showers.

Let's just get his computer.

And get the fuck out of here.

Okay.

Let's do it.

Sam, we don't have much time, come on!

Sam!

Fuck!

His computer isn't here.

It's probably in his bedroom.

Raina, are you crazy?

He could walk out at any second.

Don't you want to find out what he knows about your director?

Let's do it.

Men are so fucking dumb.

What do we do?

Hide in that closet.

Wait. What about you?

I'll be fine.

I'll take care of it.

Just go. Go!

Raina!

I thought I heard someone in here.

This is a nice surprise.

Did you come to give your favorite professor a goodbye present?

Just a little something to remember me by.

Oh, yeah?

Well, I'm going to give you something to remember me by.

What the fuck?

What the fuck are you doing in my closet?

You snooping around?

You can't just break in! Get the fuck out of there!

What the fuck is this? What are you doing?

Say something!

I'm not leaving until I get answers.

Answers? For what?!

The DP you got me to track down.

And Barresi.

Barresi?

Don't tell me you're looking for Hong.

You are? Seriously?

Sam, you need to stop doing this, okay?

Whatever you're doing, stop.

Forget about Barrescon- Bara- Whatever his fucking name is!

What, so you can take all the credit for yourself?

Well, naturally, yeah, that was my plan.

But you know what?

The more I research Barresi, the more I learn, and the more I learn,

the more I find out the trail to him, the trail to his legacy-

Is a trail of blood.

I don't know, maybe, it could be.

In any case, I don't know, I don't care.

I'm getting out of the city tonight, okay?

I can't take it anymore.

The skyrocketing rent, the immigrants flooding into the city like a Tijuana tidal wave.

All the billionaires throwing subterranean pedophile parties right under our noses.

What the fuck are you talking about?

You're trying to tell me you don't know about the underground

tunnels in Williamsburg, where the rich, liberal Jews take fucking,

you know, children and, like, fucking do fucked up things to them.

Yeah.

Pelosi, Fauci, Obamas, the dirty little Clintons.

They're all part of it, man.

Fuck this!

What? No.

What do you mean about Barresi?

About City Wide Fever?

You don't see it, do you Sam?

Everybody who tries to find Barresi, everybody who tries

to watch City Wide Fever, they end up-

Huh.

How is it

my best and brightest student doesn't see it?

You know, you're so smart, so gifted.

You know, you got to stop messing with this, Sam.

It's going to get inside of you.

It's going to corrupt you.

It's like a sickness.

Oh, God!

Fuck!

What the fuck is wrong with you?

God damn it!

Seriously, man, what the fuck!

What the fuck is going on here?

What the fuck is going on now?

Sam.

Run!

Saturnino Barresi.

City Wide Fever.

Samantha Cardinale.

Samantha Cardinale. Samantha Cardinale.

Samantha Cardinale.

This is the train to Croton Falls.

The next station is Sleepy Hollow.

All right, toots.

Where to?

Where it says on the app.

45 Lampkin Lane.

Lampkin Lane?

What's a girl like you with a mouth like that going to Lampkin Lane for?

Can you believe it?

What'll I want to do next?

Vote?

Yeah, well, Lampkin Lane, I don't know who you're seeing there, but all I know is

you should change your fucking attitude before you get there, sweetie.

Look, I'm going to be honest.

A lot of people in this town think that place is haunted.

Say an old witch lives there.

Sort of mean old bitch.

Halloween '82.

Came from a broken home, so wasn't really scared of much.

Not really going to be scared of someone you don't know when you've already

seen the devil in your father's eyes, coming home drunk at the end of the night.

But that's a story for another time.

So we heard there's a witch lived in this house.

And, you know, we were intrigued.

So we knock on the door.

Instead of a witch,

I'm telling you the hottest woman I'd ever seen to this day opened the door.

You know Elvira?

Remember her?

It was like her, but with fatter tits.

God, it was hot.

She had a slip on, her dress was open.

This is the 80s, so she had a bush hanging out.

Go!

You know, I'm a kid, but I pump my chest out to look older.

I mean, I'm gonna be honest, with statutory laws

and everything at the time, you know, she would have really gotten in trouble,

but thank God we didn't have cell phones.

We go inside and she offers us liquor.

I mean, I'm not going to say no.

And speaking of liquor, I wanted to do more than that. You know what I mean?

So, anyway, one thing leads to another,

and, we're all getting shitfaced in the middle of her living room.

This chick takes her robe off, she goes,

you guys have heard of bobbing for apples, why don't you bob for some pussy?

We're like, all of us?

She goes, yeah, why don't you dip your little faces into my pussy pool?

We're like, but there are no apples.

She goes, well, I got a clit the size of an apple.

So we go, all right, Jesus Christ.

So I push my friend out of the way and I just go head first,

right in her clam dip.

And I'm sucking, I'm biting, I'm pulling.

I don't know you're just supposed to suck it.

I try to yank this thing out of her body.

She tells me she's getting the best head of her life.

I don't even know what that means.

Oh, one thing leads to another, she ends up squirting.

Have you ever known you could get a yeast infection in your own mouth?

I didn't know that-- --I mean, long storyshort, you'd think after 9/11

I'd get my act together, but, you know,

when those towers fell a part of me fell inside too.

I'll tell you what.

But, you know, that argument doesn't really hold up in divorce court, you know.

Here we are, honey.

What?

What do you mean? Where's the house?

Right down that path.

It's like a ten minute walk.

I mean, lady, I told you-

I know, I know, this ain't no place

for a pretty girl like me.

Who's there?

My eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be.

My name is Sam.

Are you Rutanya Alda?

I certainly hope so.

Oh, you,

caught me with my skincare mask.

I'm sorry to interrupt your-

I came here to talk about-

About Saturnino.

What?

Yeah. Yeah.

How did you know?

I've been waiting for this day for a long time.

I knew one day somebody would come along asking about him.

He was, after all, one of the great masters.

Yeah. Yes. Yeah.

Well, I'm

making a movie about him, and the strangest shit has been

happening.

So you knew him?

Well of course I knew him.

I knew all the Italian maestros.

Perverts, every one of them.

All that blood, all that nudity, all that sex,

all that violence directed against women.

That would never fly today.

Never.

There's so much more to those films than that.

There is a mutual understanding,

a contract between the screen and the viewer.

There's a palpable feeling, you know, the, the cloud or the fog of the unknowable.

When watching them, you have to enter the space

with no expectations, with a rejection of narrative, of,

a dismissal of logic and continuity and payoff.

Because the world--ours and the film's--it's so much bigger

than that, than a sensical conclusion.

These things--sex, death, love,

life--maybe they can't be understood.

So art doesn't need to be digestible.

It can just exist.

So what do you need from me, Samantha?

Well, I wanted to talk about Barresi's final film.

City Wide Fever.

City Wide Fever.

Yeah.

Oh, boy.

I never thought I'd hear that title again.

Well, ever since I heard about Barresi,

the film has been following me.

Samantha,

have you seen anything?

Have I seen people die, you mean?

Yeah.

Yeah, I have.

Do you know Hong?

He was murdered.

Oh my God.

It's starting again.

First Min, now Hong.

Min?

Min was Hong's Sister, Saturnino's wife.

More than just a wife--

his collaborator, his co-writer.

It was an open secret that Min played a large role

in Saturnino's films.

The scripts, the ideas, even the direction.

What happened to her?

She died.

Tragically, brutally.

Her throat was slit.

What, he killed her?

We don't know that.

But if he did, it was a terrible mistake.

Min's death ruined Saturnino.

City Wide Fever was never completed.

And what was shot was lost.

Nobody ever heard from him again.

Oh.

Mine is a very popular house tonight.

Excuse me, I'll be right back.

Where's the end?

Mom?

Hi.

Hey!

Hey.

Thanks for letting me crash.

Of course Sammy, you're my child.

Maggie and I just wish you'd come over more often.

You want some water? Juice?

Wine?

Yeah. Wine.

Wine works.

Thanks.

Of course.

A lot has been going on recently.

It would really help to get your advice.

I'm so freaked out.

Well, Sammy,

I'm sorry.

I have my virtual Buddhist group in a few minutes, you know this.

But don't worry.

You know what?

As soon as it ends, you and Maggie and me,

we'll sit down

and we'll talk all about your boy problems.

Or girl problems.

Whatever. This isn't about Chloe, is it?

Because I've been telling you for years that that girl is in love with you.

Mom, no, they're not, girl- they're not- they're not boy

problems.

Okay.

Whatever.

But in the meantime, I have a gift for you.

My favorite movie.

The Way We Were.

This is a movie about poise, class.

It's Robert Redford, Barbra Streisand.

At a time when being a New Yorker

really meant something.

Something special.

Thank you.

Okay, for now,

I'm going to go in my room.

All right.

Come here.

Let me look at you.

Yeah.

Look at this.

You know, you look terrible.

Why don't you go downstairs,

hop in the sauna,

get some color.

It'll do you good.

All right.

I'm going to be in my room.

Mom? Maggie?

Sam?

Chloe, what are you doing here?

Sam, I've been looking for you for days.

You fucking disappeared.

Disappeared?

No one's seen you since Adam's party.

Sam, it's Wednesday.

You've been missing for almost a week.

But how did you find me here?

We share locations.

I mean, you've been running all over the city.

I'm surprised that I even managed to track you down.

Although, at your mom's place?

I wouldn't have guessed that plot twist.

Where is my mom?

Oh, I caught her right before she left.

She said something about her Buddhist thing being moved to in-person last minute.

But it's always on Zoom.

They're super Covid-conscious.

What?

I don't know what the fuck is happening.

I'm not crazy or sick.

Sam?

I just need to solve this.

I can see all the pieces right in front of me.

I just need to figure out how to put them together.

Are you okay?

No!

Oh, yeah, I found that in your bedroom.

I hope that's okay.

I've been carrying it around everywhere,

you know, with all that weird shit that's been happening.

I guess I just wanted to feel safe,

you know?

So it was you all along Chloe.

What was me?

What are you talking about?

It all adds up now.

Saturnino was your dad.

Your mom was his wife.

Everything--Hong's and Keith's murders,

Raina's death--it's all your fucked up, twisted revenge.

What?

Obviously I knew you liked me,

but I never knew it would get to this.

Sam.

Why did you open the knife?

Wait Chlo'.

Fuck, you're absolutely insane.

I'm sorry.

Chloe I'm so sorry.

I don't know what the fuck just happened.

I'm sorry.

Wakey wakey, Chlo'.

We have to chat.

What's going on?

You look so cute, Chlo'.

Pink is your color.

I've solved it, Chloe.

I figured it out.

No response?

Poor baby.

Trying to make mommy proud?

You're insane.

Maybe.

But so is the curse of Barresi.

If he couldn't realize his final film,

then no one else can get close.

Anyone who tries is either cursed or killed.

They catch the fever, Chlo'.

And we've got it, real bad.

It's shattered any sense of reality.

I can break the curse.

I can finish Barresi's final project.

And I can put an end to all this suffering.

Sam, think about what you're saying, okay?

I mean, my parents live in New Jersey.

My mom's an oncologist.

But don't you see, Chloe?

That doesn't matter.

Not to the film, not to the fever.

Whether you remember killing Hong,

Keith, or Raina,

it's all been written

into the film.

What movie?

It's the film I've been star and director

of this whole time.

You're fucking insane.

Am I?

Let's review the facts.

Saturnino was your dad.

Your mom was his wife.

She helped write his movies, directed from the sidelines.

She never got the credit she deserved.

He couldn't take being second best to a woman.

If your mom couldn't be part of Barresi's final film, no one could.

Traumatized, a young girl--you--attempts

to vindicate her parents by recreating their final film.

The bodies pile up as her best friend,

an aspiring filmmaker, begins to solve the mystery.

Now, how does this story end, Chlo'?

I've forced you to watch enough slashers with me to know where

I'm headed. No?

Nothing?

The killer has to die.

Oh, but it has to be spectacular.

Garish, loud, violent,

and stylish.

Location is important.

In my room.

You finally have me to yourself.

Or perhaps in the porn shop,

where the story picked up steam.

Or maybe

at the party.

I can finally check out those boys you were talking about.

You gaslit me.

You followed me to my mom's house to pull one over on me.

But I figured you out.

I figured it all out.

And I got the best of you.

Of course, I don't get out

of this mess unscathed.

Now, how to finish you off?

I know I'm the expert here, Chlo',

but I'm open to suggestions.

Why do you have to come up with an ending?

Why not just follow the script?

Well the script isn't finished.

Then Sam,

how can you be so sure of this ending?

Because that's the logical conclusion.

I've seen enough of these movies-

Enough to know

that you could be the killer?

What?

Yeah.

Aren't there films where the protagonist,

the hero, turned out to be evil all along?

Yeah, bitch.

I did pay attention.

How do we know that you're not the real killer?

Now, where were we?

Oh, yes.

City Wide Fever.

Yeah. It was a mediocre story at its core.

Perhaps it was best it was never realized.

Would have been a blight on Saturnino's

illustrious career.

Oh, it's just a run of the mill story about a horror obsessed

girl convinced that she'd run across a major conspiracy.

Turns out to be the killer.

Poor narrative.

It was a time when the giallo,

the slasher, whatever you want to call it, was in full tilt.

Novelty was difficult.

Maybe Min's death,

Saturnino's disappearance--

maybe it was all for the best.

The two went out on top.

Poor Sam.

Blinded by the silver screen.

Here's your reality check, bitch.