The House with Laughing Windows
Director: Pupi Avati
Release year: 1976
Stefano arrives in a half-empty Italian town at the behest of the mayor to restore a fresco inside a local church. The fresco shows the suffering of St. Sebastiano and was painted by a long-dead artist, Bueno Legnani. The locals seem to always be listening to Stefano’s conversations, and when he has to move from his hotel to a remote local house, he discovers in the attic a tape recording of a man’s voice who he begins to believe is Legnani, sending him down a rabbit hole he might not come out of alive.
Highly recommended on podcasts and online, I had no idea from the title what to expect, but this is impeccably crafted and scuzzy Italian folk horror. There is a yellow tint that makes the viewer feel dirty, and the barren landscape of river inlets, abandoned houses and deserted roads is endlessly unsettling. The fresco looks disturbingly modern in the old church, and the gradual uncovering of morbid details adds to the increasing sense of dread.
It’s described as a giallo, but it’s not. There are few deaths. Instead, there is a skillful ratcheting up of tension through artful use of the camera, the deserted locations, and the script taking its sweet time revealing key details through Stefano’s conversations with local townsfolk. The final fifteen minutes are wild and strange. The quality of the print on Amazon Prime wasn’t great—this deserves to be in HD.