THE NEW YORK RIPPER (1982) — A not-so-killer serial killer film
Everybody, duck!
The 1982 Italian giallo film The New York Ripper comes via director Lucio Fulci, best known for his 1979 zombie flick Zombi 2 (called Zombie in the States). Unsurprisingly, his effort here is also abundantly gory and perhaps more controversial. For the uninitiated, giallo combines elements of murder-mystery, suspense-thriller, and horror films, and it’s a precursor to American slasher films. The New York Ripper in particular is notorious for being banned in the United Kingdom for 20 years — even its DVD release faced censorship.
A duck-voiced serial killer is brutally murdering women in New York City, and the police are on the job. Lt. Fred Williams (Jack Hedley) works with Dr. Paul Davis (Paolo Malco) to create a psychological profile, gather evidence, and find a prime suspect. Meanwhile, a survivor of the Ripper, Fay Majors (Almanta Suska), fears for her life while assisting the police. Her boyfriend Peter Bunch (Andrea Occhipinti) tries to comfort her and keep her safe in his apartment.
There’s nothing groundbreaking about the plot, but many excellent films use similarly “stock” plots. This isn’t one of them. Why? The main characters simply aren’t engaging enough — they’re poorly written and conceived. Lt. Williams is stoic, seemingly disinterested in the Ripper case even when the Ripper intrudes on his personal life. Dr. Davis is intelligent, but lacks personality. Sadly, the most interesting characters are the Ripper’s victims. They display more attitude and potential in their limited screen time than any of the protagonists. Even the Ripper is just a basic serial killer who sounds like Disco Duck. Given this fundamental problem, the movie would be mediocre even without its exploitative nature.
Yes, this is an exploitation film, at least in practice. It shows all the depravity of the Ripper’s killings. Victims are cut open from their genitals to their chests; some have their eyes slit, and one victim’s breast is sliced medially. Arguably, showing the murders in detail makes it easier to sympathize with the victims and support the investigators. The sexual elements are a different story. Sex and masturbation are shown gracelessly. In one scene, a supporting character gets her genitals stimulated by a man’s foot underneath a table in a restaurant. It adds nothing to the film and should have been cut.
Beyond shock value, what does this film have to offer? To its credit, despite the weak characters, The New York Ripper is competently crafted and suspenseful. Much of the camerawork is handheld, giving the film an appropriately unstable, disturbed energy. Several scenes are lit creatively, particularly a sequence in a back room of a sex theater. Outside of the shock sequences, editing emphasizes tension and mystery. So it succeeds at being a horror-thriller, at least.
For fans of Fulci, giallo, or horror and exploitation films, The New York Ripper may be of interest. In a bare sense, it does work. But stripped of its gore and sex, what remains is a lackluster murder mystery with generic characters. It’s not rip-roaring, but rip-boring.
