Rabid Dogs: Lucertola Media I/ Spera Cinematografica Rating: USA: Unrated
Mario Bava’s 1974 movie, Rabid Dogs, was very nearly consigned to being known as the master’s "lost film". Shot in the summer of 1974, in Italy, Bava filmed most of the footage necessary to complete the movie (save for a short prologue), had Stelvio Cipriani complete a score, and cobbled together a workprint version of the film. However, one of producer Roberto Loyola’s financial backers died in a car accident that very summer, which cast the whole project into serious jeopardy. With no money to pay for the post-production services and editing, the film was shelved, and later taken as an asset in Loyola’s bankruptcy settlement. Things looked bleak for Bava fans, and it appeared as though this film would never see the light of day. However, nearly twenty years later, Spera Cinematografica (a company headed by Lea Lander, one of the film’s stars) raised the cash to finish and restore (after spending twenty-some years in purgatory, the print available wasn’t in the greatest condition) the film—which stands as one Bava’s most incredible works.
The cover gives us the high concept by asking us to imagine "Quentin Tarantino remaking Last House on the Left—inside a moving car". And while that’s an intriguing notion, I found this film to actually be better than that high concept idea implied. Four Italian men, Doc (Maurice Poli: A Cat in the Brain), Blade (Aldo Capponi in his only film role), 32 (George Eastman, named for the measurement of his ‘unit’—in centimeters), and Fagio are planning to steal the payroll cash of a medium sized pharmaceutical company. They succeed, but the cops arrive as they’re making their getaway. In the ensuing shootout, Fagio, the driver, takes a fatal shot and the car is hit in the gas tank. Without a vehicle, our three crooks are forced to flee on foot, entering an underground parking garage with the police in pursuit. There, they take two women hostage, before Blade kills one to show that they’re deadly serious. They keep the other, Maria (Lea Lander) and again take off. Outside the garage, they hijack a car driven by a man named Riccardo (Riccardo Cucciolla) whose son is sick and needs an operation. Of course, Doc and crew don’t care about that—they just want to get away. So, with their three hostages (including the comatose boy), they set out on the road trip from hell—a trip that will culminate in murder and one of those remarkable, unexpected, Bava twists.
Rabid Dogs stands as perhaps the most interesting film in Bava’s filmography, for several reasons. First off, this was the only Bava film to completely eschew the fantasy/horror elements he was so well known for. This film takes place entirely in the real world, with no supernatural or fantasy elements coloring its narrative whatsoever. Now, some may argue that Bay of Blood was also grounded in reality, and I’d agree to a point, but ultimately that film seems at least fantasy-tinged, with its ‘everyone kills everyone’ murder motif and its elaborate death setpieces.
So, this is definitely Bava’s only foray into the ‘real’ world that we all live in, which is scary in a way, because if this is the real world as seen through Bava’s eyes, then maybe we’d all be better off living in his fantasy worlds. This is, without a doubt, the most nihilistically bleak film the director ever made. There’s no redemption to be found here, not for the good, nor the evil, and to further complicate matters, you can’t always tell the difference between who’s good and who’s evil in this film—a point that Bava drives home in the film’s final scene. No, Bava’s world in Rabid Dogs is a scary place, where might is right and he who has the gun makes all the rules. It’s a man’s world, where machismo holds dominion over all, and women are relegated to being sexual objects—objects that can be plundered by the men at any given time with little to no consequence (at least for awhile, anyway). There’s no hope in this world Bava’s crafted—just a never-ending stream of despair until you finally die—and death must seem like a blessing.
As I mentioned above, most of the film takes place inside a car…which Bava uses to his advantage as well. The car almost becomes a microcosm of the criminal’s society. Here, in the car, just like in their everyday life, the guy with the gun is in charge. Disputes are settled with threats, and occasionally, violence. Most of us realize that even in the real world, societies based on this kind of power structure eventually crumble because those who live by the sword tend to die by it as well—and here, in this miniature version of the criminal’s world, that same result comes to pass. We watch as the criminals, at first calm and in command of the situation, begin to lose control. Blade and 32 are psychopaths—men for whom committing acts of murder and rape is as simple and commonplace as eating for you and I. Placing them in this closed environment, with the lovely Maria, and adding alcohol into the mix, their natural tendencies are bound to come to the forefront. As a result, the society disintegrates and a (very) brief power struggle ensues—a conflict once again resolved through violence.
The filmmaking itself is brilliant here, as it often was in all of Bava’s work. Unfortunately, Mario had something of a cursed career—some of his best work was thoroughly trashed at the time of its release (including Bay of Blood and Lisa and the Devil, his two films made prior to this one) and didn’t find a truly appreciative audience until after his death in 1980. However, had Rabid Dogs been released upon completion in the 70s, I have little doubt that it would have resurrected the filmmaker’s career. Crime films were a very popular genre at the time, and this film stands right alongside some of the best films of the time (in fact, I think it’s a step above some of the more highly regarded works). Rabid Dogs is a minimalist masterpiece, showcasing Bava’s ability to wring tension out of the most claustrophobic of situations, with little at his disposal other than a camera, some actors, and a score. Gone are the odd lighting effects and weird gels of his fantasy works, replaced by a camera that never blinks, and captures the cruelly hot Italian summer in all of its drab, oppressive glory.
Of course, the stylish camera movements are still here, and the cinematography (which was done by Bava himself) is equally impressive. About the only negative that I could find in the filmmaking itself is that some of the edits are a bit choppy—which might have more to do with the restorers trying to cobble together a decent source print than anything Bava did.
The acting here is top notch, with all of the ensemble cast turning in credible, intriguing, performances. There’s no weak link here—everyone shines in the scenes they need to carry, and the result is a film that seems very real—and very intense. No one has overly fond memories of the shoot—they were all required to cram into a small car and endure the swelteringly hot Italian summer—even having to film some scenes with the windows up while Bava filmed from a flatbed truck running parallel to the vehicle. It was an intense shoot by all accounts, but it adds a certain amount of realism to the proceedings and ultimately strengthens the film.
The prologue scene that I mentioned earlier wasn’t filmed during Bava’s lifetime, but rather shot in Germany in 1997 based on the extensive notes Bava had left behind for how he wanted to film the opening. The weeping woman in the shot seems like a loose end for much of the film, at least until the final scene, where her real identity is driven home with ferocious intensity.
Since Rabid Dogs was assembled from a very old source print, and said print wasn’t in the greatest shape, it was cleaned up as well as it could be for a DVD only release. The disc isn’t flawless, but it is very watchable considering that it sat in some basement for over twenty years. The film is in Italian, subtitled in English, with some really good subs done by Tim Lucas (the Video Watchdog himself, and a man who’s widely regarded as the world’s leading Mario Bava authority). The film also features some essay type extras on the restoration process, and the film’s history (the history stuff again written by Lucas). It’s a fascinating and informative read.
Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Stelvio Cipriani’s (City of the Walking Dead) magnificent score. Much like the film, the score is a minimalist masterwork—in fact, there’s really only one piece played throughout much of the movie—but that one piece is incredible, signaling that the tensions are rising just as effectively as John Williams’ theme from Jaws. It’s a prime example of the effect music can have on a film.
Ultimately, viewing Rabid Dogs was a bit of a bittersweet experience for this Bava fan. There’s no doubt that it’s a brilliant film—an intense, noir-ish, ironic crime thriller that has aged really well over the last 25 years. I’m delighted that it’s available, so that Bava neophytes can see just what one of the masters of Italian cinema was capable of creating—often with a microscopic budget. On the other hand, it makes me incredibly sad to know that this film languished in purgatory for all those years—a lost relic, hidden from us all by a bureaucracy more concerned about money than art. It’s a bittersweet feeling because Bava didn’t get to make many films after this one—he was over 60 and his previous works hadn’t been well received. However, if this film had been released, it almost certainly would have re-established his career and added to his legacy—while he was still alive, as opposed to now, nearly 20 years after his death. Rabid Dogs is well worth checking out and comes highly recommended from this Mario Bava fan.
For Master of the Macabre Mario Bava (Black Sunday), it was to be the most startling film of his entire career: After a botched payroll heist, a trio ...More at Buy.com Marketplaces
DVDS. An unreleased suspense thriller from Italy's master of horror and fantasy, {$Mario Bava}, {#Rabid Dogs} makes its belated debut in this special ...More at DeepDiscount.com
Epinions.com periodically updates pricing and product information from third-party sources, so some information may be slightly out-of-date. You should confirm all information before relying on it.