Lucio Fulci’s sleazefest The New York Ripper (1982) is a masterwork of perversion. Sexually explicit and gruesomely bloody, the film features a serial killer ripping his way through the seedy streets of New York’s Times Square. Inexplicably, the mysterious killer speaks in a Donald Duck quacking voice (!) and viciously slices up a series of sexy women in a series of increasingly gruesome murders.
Fulci was no stranger to sleaze and gore, but with The New York Ripper he made what has to be considered one of the sleaziest and goriest giallo films of all time. It’s the kind of film that makes you question your own sensibilities while watching, then leads to a long shower afterwards to cleanse the filth from your system. After all, this is early ‘80s Times Square at its most squalid, and the Italian filmmaker takes full advantage of the exterior location shooting.
Of special note, Alexandra Delli Colli plays Jane Lodge, a wealthy trophy wife who gets off on slumming it with nocturnal visits to the city’s red light district. Whether attending a live sex show, being molested at a pool hall, or taking a stranger back to a seedy hotel for some BDSM play, Jane always dons the finest black lingerie under her glamorous couture. The camera spends an awful lot of time focused on Jane’s crotch, lingering on her silk stockings tops, garter belts, and panties, shot after shot, so forgive me if it’s the imagery I most associate with the film!
Spoilers, but Jane’s perverse walk on the wild side eventually leads to her death, just another in a long line of spectacularly beautiful giallo victims to bite the dust, several of whom bite it with Jane in this film. There’s also a standard-issue exasperated and ineffective police detective (British actor Jack Hedley) trying to solve the serial murder, plus a colorful and memorable assortment of supporting characters spitting out dubbed lines with sass and snark. When the cop tells the prostitute (Daniela Doria) he’s sleeping with to make him some post-coital coffee, she snaps back, “Sweetheart! I’m a prositute, not your wife. If you want coffee, make it yourself!”
It’s not all sleaze and snark, though. There are some memorably tense and well executed shots in the film, including a harrowing subway scene in which Fulci expertly ratchets up the tension with claustrophobic high angle shots and wide angle views of the nearly empty subway car. Fulci’s stylish visuals are always a treat, and here he makes excellent use of vibrant color in scenes bathed in red or green light.
The tagline for The New York Ripper say it all, really: “New York City: It’s a nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to die there!” Another one used declared it, “The sickest movie ever made,” and while I’m sure there’s plenty of competition for that title, The New York Ripper is definitely one of the stronger entrants in the field. Fans of late-period giallo need to see this one, but just have that hot shower queued up and ready to go when the film ends.
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