The setting is Barcelona, a glamourous European destination typical of the jet set denizens of these Italian Detective Horrors. Trouble starts when our heroine Minou (Dagmar Lassander) is assaulted by a strange man (Simon Andreu) who threatens she will beg him to rape her when next they meet (a breach of taste served with the misogynistic flair typical of the genre), then runs away (!) When she tells her husband (Pier Paolo Capponi), he naturally wants to call the police, but she says no: "All they do is make you fill out forms" (!) Well, in a case like this, lady, I think maybe you might make an exception and fill out a form for a change, just this one time. But she doesn't, of course, otherwise we wouldn't have a movie. She does, indeed, regret not making that call, as she is sucked down deeper and deeper into the gaslighting whirlpool of her stalker/rapist's devising, blackmailing her that he will show her husband the eponymous photos of the title. Her shoulder to cry on through this is Dominique (Susan Scott), a happy-go-lucky porn photo model (she sends the photos to Copenhagen for sale), a free spirit whose appetite for sex goes far beyond the job. Off the job, she sure likes to wear clothes, lots of them, and both of them galavant around town like a couple of high fashion Barbies . Each scene in new outfits of the most outrageously fabulous 70's fashions: hats, gloves, shoes-and wigs (!)-- to match (another convention of the genre). And I mean Every scene: After one last heart-to-heart sob session, Dominique finally convinces Minou to tell her husband everything. She tells her they'll go tell him Right Now!-but not until after they've changed into entirely different outfits, restyled wigs, and wiped away the tears to fortify their make-up, as is how they show up at his place in the scene immediately following. It's pretty obvious pretty early on who the real Bad Guy has to be, though there are a couple of clever red herrings to try to trick you. What's fun are the impossibly outrageous contrivances (also a convention) that wend their way to a ridiculously satisfying conclusion, and the particularly salacious aspects of this plot are notably original in that regard.
There, I said "outrageous" again, but Over-The-Top Outrageousness is really what a good giallo is all about. Enjoy.
There, I said "outrageous" again, but Over-The-Top Outrageousness is really what a good giallo is all about. Enjoy.