The killer wears an owl’s head mask. A bulky, feathery mask with dark eyes and a beak. What a fantastic look! And now imagine an actor wearing that owl’s head with a suit and flying through the air on stage during rehearsal for a musical rock number. This happens in the first five minutes of Stage Fright: Aquarius (1987) and at that point, how could it get any better? It will. That owl’s head is first worn by an actor in a musical that’s set to open soon, which is bizarrely about a psychopathic killer of women. Then later, that very same owl-head is worn by a psychopathic actor (not just any psycho killer but one who used to be an actor!) who has escaped from a mental hospital! The killer proceeds to lock both cast and crew into the theatre with him during one dark and stormy night.
The dream of 1980s Italian horror, for me, is an aesthetic where everything feels like it will transform into a music video for either a new wave power ballad or a heavy metal chugger. And Stage Fright: Aquarius has this aesthetic energy in multitudes thanks to the theatre environment, the gaudy make-up and costumes, and fake scenery backdrops. I’ve always been a huge fan of director Michelle Soavi’s Dellamorte Dellamore (aka Cemetery Man) so it’s been great to finally catch up with his earlier work in horror like The Church and now Stage Fright, which was his directorial debut, produced by Joe D’Amato and written by George Eastman. Coming out of the gate firing with a musical opening number, the film does take time setting up all of the pieces, getting to the locked room/one night set-up. Once it’s there though, Stage Fright delivers in bloody, memorable deaths and stylish suspense sequences. The score by Simon Boswell is bombastic, and will charge into a rock metal number for a chase sequence, and then a syncopated rap beat for a “searching for a key in a desk” moment. Barbara Cupisti (also from Soavi’s The Church) is a solid lead, David Brandon is great as the bitchy British director, and there’s even a cast member who looks like a dead ringer for Sting. And every cut away to a couple of cops sitting in a squad car as it rains, trading weak banter as unbeknownst to them people are being hacked to bits inside, became funnier to me as it went on. Memorably gory “kills” with a high sense of style in the framing and atmosphere, heightened by some very “what the fuck?” moments.
Available to stream on Tubi (US). Recommended.
VHS Tracking 