It’s never too late to dive into the filmography of a director you’ve neglected for years. Well, I hope it isn’t anyway, because Manhattan Baby marks my first experience with horror director Lucio Fulci. A man that based his work in the extreme gore and reactionary anger of those that found themselves viewing it, he developed his very own cult following over decades of hard work, diving into a variety of genres. Manhattan Baby sees Fulci in the throes of his contemporary popularity. A period where his work has been reassessed to credit his talents. Manhattan Baby is certainly underwhelming in that regard, a film that has some vague moments of interest.
Guitars that twang with such a mighty funk, Manhattan Baby’s strongest asset is its soundtrack. Often offering a rather syncopated style that leaps from brazenly good beats to chilling pangs of high-pitched wails. It’s a shame that this energy isn’t reflected in the performances or story, which begins to fizzle out long before the running time has wrapped itself up. Losing steam and trying everything it can to hold on to its rather over-baked storyline of possession through amulets, Manhattan Baby really does struggle to keep itself going.
What does save it, though, is Fulci’s direction. Really solid work from him sees some rather interesting shot composition, interesting choreography for scenes that could’ve easily faded into mediocrity. Demons and possession seem rather forthright in this, but never to a point where it really matters. Ancient Egypt and cursed tombs follow our cast of lead characters, and it begins to condense itself into a rather drab story. It feels like a deflated version of The Exorcist towards the end, and the parallels don’t end at exorcisms, priests with shady backgrounds, or cursed items from far off lands. There’s too much here that feels like it’s ripping from other works and changing the slightest of details. Perhaps the most unforgivable aspect of all is that it’s just not very good.
An odd choice for my first Fulci feature, but a nice amalgamation of his styles, camera work, and general consistencies and inconsistencies as a director, Manhattan Baby is an interesting film that wanes rather rapidly. It doesn’t quite work for me. My aversion to mummy-oriented films coupled with some unfortunately forgettable characters who do all they can to make this story work is just not enough to leap the hurdle of horribly dull writing. The legwork is there, the payoff is fumbled. It’s a film that finds itself with good company, and never quite capitalised on any of it.
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