2. The New York Ripper (1982)
Ah Lucio Fulci: one of my all time cinematic heroes, and the man behind the majestic Zombie Flesh Eaters, The Beyond and Don't Torture a Duckling. Fulci was never averse to a bit of extreme cinematic violence and gore, topped off with lashings of misogyny. These proclivities intermingled in 1982 to produce a squalid little movie called The New York Ripper. There is really no defence for this film: it is rightly excoriated by most critics and as well as being misogynistic, it is grimy, seedy, depressing and downright lame. There is a Donald Duck voiced serial killer (the duck voice is intensely annoying) on the loose and the film follows his killing spree along with a few obligatory red herrings thrown in for good measure. For the viewer's delight, women are routinely stabbed in the crotch with broken bottles and knives. Now, I know horror films need murder scenes but isn't multiple crotch stabbings a bit vulgar and OTT? Can we get a bit of variety Lucio? A bit of invention? The murderer is revealed, it is all very boring.... More interesting is the censorship history surrounding The New York Ripper: it has yet to be given an uncut print in the UK. In fact upon the film's first arrival in Britain way back in the hey day of the Video Nasties brouhaha (the early 1980s), the print was seized by the police and escorted by them out of the country. Not many films inspire such repugnance. At its heart a good old fashioned giallo, The New York Ripper tarnishes itself with its sleaze, unflinching violence and general unpleasantness. Boo Lucio, boo!