Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion

 Le Foto Proibite di Una Signora per Bene (1970)

Told by a blackmailer that her husband had killed a business associate, Minou must, if she wishes to keep him from serving jail time, service him sexually in order to retrieve the taped audio recording, but will agreeing to even do this end this whole ordeal or just complicate her life further?

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“I would have adored being violated.”

“I’m ready for anything with the right person.”

While Susan Scott may be saddled with dialogue like this (of course, this could just be rubbish translation into English, but at any rate I laughed my ass off), she’s an absolute fox. I like when she’s more the lead than the supporting actress, but Dagmar was a proven commodity for any giallo at this point in her career. Still, Scott can be costumed in fur and a pimp hat and still look worthy of ravishing. A major babe. Okay, now I got that out of the way…

Hooked on tranquilizers, saddled with a hubby who not only spends too much time at the office but is caught on a cassette tape recording confirming his role in the murder of a business associate (or is it real?), Dagmar’s central figure is quite the common giallo heroine. I like my gialli heroines all mixed up and under turmoil, but also stunningly gorgeous and sexually liberated in an Italy that seems all about lavish lifestyles (with a heavy emphasis on style) and eye-popping fashion (maybe not always to my taste but it amazes me how often the lovely ladies cast in the movies still somehow make the outfits work). We often see them in the company of the rich, the jet set, at a club with lots of made Italians living life to the fullest when away from the doldrums of business. The men and their ladies, although Scott is too promiscuous and provocative to be entrapped / ensnared in a relationship. 

Dagmar loves her man, even having kinky sex with a blackmailing cretin so she can secure the taped recording, and afterward (when the dirtbag, satisfied with the dividends of his blackmail, commends her on her performance!) seeming to show a little bit of arousal from that little bit of action under the sheets! Simón Andreu, I have to admit, is a great heel in the movie. He’s so vile and unapologetic in how he treats Dagmar’s Minou, admitting to her that he fakes her husband, Peter’s (Pier Paolo Capponi) voice in the recording, solely staging this so he could bed her and take blackmailing photographs. He does it with a proud elation; through Andreu, he’s a showboater, a scorpion with a sting. For me, a good giallo always has one of these sleazebags. He has to make your skin crawl upon first sight. He immediately looks suspect the moment he shows up on screen. 

Minou remains bent out of shape, for obvious reasons, and to be called a slave by Andreu’s villain, so degraded and demeaned, an escape clause seems in doubt without a crumbling marriage resulting. Andreu has this cane with a blade that pops out when he wants to parade it around; it is a prop that further defines his character. A showboater needs a good prop to provoke a response. It seems he continues to bother her just to drive her insane for kicks. Like how he empties the apartment where she was to meet him as if Minou looks to have made it all up. Or when he appears at the window of Peter and Minou’s home just to let her know he was around (the rain pouring, the glass door open by him as if to say he could have intruded if he had wanted to). He’s an evil bastard.

There’s the murder that is listed as an unusual death in the news’ coroner’s report. A peculiar death that might be considered the fault of Peter because of a solid motive to want this Dubois under the ground…a loan for the special diving suit equipment that Peter’s company is attempting to perfect. Money seems to be scarce and Peter’s company is feeling the pressure to get the project completed in order to satisfy the loan requirement. What makes Forbidden Photos… different than the usual giallo is that the typical bloody violence and savagery is damn near non-existent, and this is concerned a great deal with story, particularly Minou’s predicament. The film places significant importance in how Minou is painted as making shit up because of her anxieties or the dependency on pills, perhaps even to get more love and attention from Peter, even though we know she’s telling the truth. Looks of concern are shared by Peter, the city’s commissioner, and her doc. Told she will be killed by him, Andreu seems to have total control of the situation. I thought the plot was reasonably well built because the whole point is to place the heroine in circumstances that seem to be enveloping her psychologically and emotionally. She can try to convince others until she’s blue in the face but without proof of her tormentor’s existence her pleading falls on deaf ears. Even Dagmar’s best gal pal (Susan Scott AKA Nieves Navarro) seems to be plotting against her, denying that she remembers giving a certain photograph to her as a “gift”.

There’s a reason for all that transpires. A giallo worth its salt has that wacky twist that always seems to say, “Ahh, the hell with it.” This one isn’t exactly the most original. How often are life insurance policies and forcing someone into suicide used in angles dealing with blackmail, adultery, betrayal, and murder. There’s no body count here, and the only deaths (two) occur at the very end when all is revealed with poor Dagmar enduring Andreu cutting her a bit and sitting on her with plans to torment her just a little more, Peter arriving just as another violation might seem imminent. Anytime money can be attained, a plot to murder someone you’re supposed to love often develops. Dagmar will need a savior and one who seemed to be against her may just be there for her as the killing hour approaches.

Emphasizing plot and Dagmar’s plight—the psychology of a dirtbag against an innocent woman wanting to protect her husband, and everyone looking at the heroine like she’s an idiot having vivid nightmares that seem all too real (but are just that, nightmares…according to them; although we know better)—Forbidden Photos… lacks some of the requirements from many a giallo enthusiast (like myself). Yes, Susan Scott’s character is a nymphomaniac and not ashamed of her lifestyle, either, who isn’t in for commitment as much as a good lay, but besides some projector nude modeling photos, there’s no nudity. 

There’s some carefully photographed sex that doesn’t reveal Dagmar’s body (it’s all soap opera lovemaking, but done in with style and flair, which is the case throughout the whole film), which is unfortunate. The violence is by gun, all noise and no blood. Even the minor blood used when Andreu uses his cane blade is minuscule. Your enjoyment of this will boil down to whether or not the character portrayed by Dagmar is important to you and your interest in the dilemma she faces. It is attractively composed and features attractive women to photograph; up close or from afar, Dagmar and Susan were loved by the camera. I could do without the excess make up on Dagmar’s face and the choice of both women wearing wigs during points kind of made me cringe. Some of the dialogue translated to English (especially the frank and sexually honest Susan Scott character) is priceless. Susan would pick up a guy at a funeral, or, in this case, a detective at a crime scene! Dagmar’s Minou gets put through the ringer, as any good heroine in a giallo should, and with doubts from those around her and a lack of support believing she might be accurate in her persisting of a certain guy actually, really tormenting her, this character will have to persevere after some heavy obstacles. Clever use of the giallo comic towards the end while Dagmar reads in bed.

Navarro (Scott) and Andreu would return for director Luciano Ercoli’s Death Walks at Midnight (1972) & Death Walks on High Heels (1971), completing a giallo trilogy. I like that within the giallo genre, certain "teams" seem to work with particular directors. Edwige Fenech and Isaac Rassimov often worked together (as well as, George Hilton) with Sergio Martino. Daria Nicolodi often suffered in Dario Argento's movies. Anita Strindberg also worked several times with Martino. The genre sure did give plenty of work to certain actors/actresses (mainly actresses) willing to fulfill certain requirements many would not be comfortable with.

Dagmar has an interesting career. I think her highest point, besides Forbidden Photos… was “Femina ridens” (The Frightened Woman (1969); I just don’t think she’s ever been as seductively captivating and alluring as she is in this movie). She has been in a variety of genres. She was in Lucio Fulci films like House by the Cemetery (1981) & The Black Cat (1981), in Devil Fish (1984) for Lamberto Bava (I’ve never seen it but from its reputation, this is considered one of the worst films ever made), in Hatchet for the Honeymoon (1970; I consider this a masterpiece, although many (if not most) Mario Bava fans consider it middle-of-the-pack for the Italian maestro), and even Werewolf Woman (1976), as well as, the uniquely named The Iguana with the Tongue of Fire (1971) and Reflections in Black (1975). I have a copy of So Young, So Lovely, So Vicious (1975), but it’s considered a lesser film in Dagmar’s early resume. You can find Werewolf Woman (probably cut to hell and back; I have yet to watch it) in the public domain in some terrible-quality versions. She was quite busy in the 70s. She kind of found herself in roles as women dealing with psychological crisis, typically where others seem to be plotting against her. I think Femina ridens is her best role because she seems to be under the boot heel of a sociopath, but the beauty of it is she’s really the one in control and uses her sex appeal to turn the psychological tables on her captor. This role, she uses her sexiness and applies feminine wiles to usurp his control, even though he is made to believe he’s the one calling the shots. I thought she was so yummy in Femina ridens she makes your mouth water. I couldn’t peel my eyes away from her. 

Here she’s the trophy wife who attends night clubs and enjoys the status her husband seems to provide her, and it is when she’s a target of a Sadean misfit who takes great pleasure in degrading / dehumanizing her sexually. Forbidden Photos hints more than elaborates,  showing a resisting hand being rope-tied to a post, faces while in the throes of coitus (the film does seem to establish that all of this doesn’t appear to be punishing to Dagmar, as her fingers grip Andreu’s back as if to signal passion), and bodies gyrating as to signify sexual pleasure. Ercoli doesn’t feel the need to detail sex explicitly; his style is less-is-more, and composition of his cast is certainly important. I consider myself a fan of Ercoli, although his giallo output was small. I like how he frames his actresses, the way the director lights darkened rooms, sometimes placing the camera right in their faces during pivotal scenes where dramatic turns in the story are given credence through the reactions of the characters, especially Dagmar. Ercoli loves faces and vitally important in that style is to have fascinating faces that compel and interest. Like Andreu and his damned cane with the ejecting blade, Dagmar’s eyes barely containing the hidden turmoil, and Susan’s naughty smile when talking sex.

While Forbidden Photos… doesn’t necessarily feature excess the giallo is known for (lots of sex, nudity, and bloodshed), it does have a heroine of considerable beauty, her life in danger, highly impressive cinematography, and a decently plotted story that allows Andreu to push Dagmar all the way to the edge, only for someone she trusted to betray her. I don’t really place this in my top list of giallo favorites, but it wasn’t a waste of my time. I certainly didn’t mind the eye candy visuals and lovely women. I tend to gravitate towards the giallo thrillers with a bit more excess, I must admit. Forbidden Photos… is certainly more restrained and tasteful than the typical giallo which opts to leave a rather healthy body count, crazy characters, wild plot twists, and lusty women often wearing little or nothing at all. This one has barely any of those popular aspects of the Italian giallo.

While her character does endure a terrible ordeal she didn't deserve, Minou is allowed a reprieve from further torment when those who are behind all of this get what's coming to them. She is the one smiling in the end. The city is active and busy, and Minou has plenty more fish in the sea. And while it doesn't appear she has convinced anyone of the peril that surrounds her, a friend in need is a friend indeed.