THE BLUE EYES OF THE BROKEN DOLL (1974), aka HOUSE OF PSYCHOTIC WOMEN

Director: Carlos Aured

Writers: Jacinto Molina (Paul Naschy), Carlos Aured

Producer: José Antonio Pérez Giner

Cast: Paul Naschy, Diana Lorys, Maria Perschy, Eva León, Eduardo Calvo, Antonio Pica, Inés Morales, Pilar Bardem, Luis Ciges, Sandra Mozarowski

Gilles (Paul Naschy) is a drifter hitchhiking in rural France when he is picked up by Claude (Diana Lorys). She is a bitter woman with a disfigured right hand covered in a prosthetic glove. She offers Gilles handyman work and lodging at her remote country villa. Claude’s two sisters also live there with her, the wheelchair-bound Ivette (Maria Perschy) and nymphomaniac Nicole (Eva León). Gilles performs his chores while having a dalliance with Nicole and imposing upon Claude’s cold and remote demeanor. Despite his confident manner, Gilles is haunted by visions of him strangling a mocking woman. Meanwhile in the nearby village, a black-gloved killer is murdering blonde women and removing their blue eyes.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

Multitalented Spanish horror film player Paul Naschy toyed with the giallo genre when he wrote and starred in The Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll. Movie fan Naschy always paid homage to a lot of the genre films he loved by incorporating many tropes from them into his scripts. When adding his own attitudes and fixations, Naschy could create lively and often loopy storylines for his films. Naschy showed a bit of restraint here, yet he still provided a twisted, tricky plot with plenty of odd characters that should satisfy the expectations of giallo fans. That uniquely Italian genre seemed to suit Naschy well for this Spanish production.

We are introduced to Naschy’s character of Gilles in an interesting way. The film opens with Gilles amid the sprawling countryside as he walks along a road trying to thumb a ride. This places us on his side, if for no other reason than we can empathize with the plight of someone alone in the middle of nowhere needing a lift. We also can’t help but wonder why he is in this destitute situation and where he is headed. But our comfort with this character is soon disturbed; as he stops for a bite to eat, we see Gilles being eyed with suspicion by the village café patrons, including local police Inspector Pierre (Antonio Pica). Gilles quickly moves on.

As night falls our hitchhiking protagonist is picked up by Claude, an austere, beautiful woman who is self-conscious of her maimed right hand. Gilles seems unperturbed by Claude’s affliction and perhaps appreciates that this makes her feel as much of an outcast as he himself appears to be. Claude is played by Diana Lorys, who had appeared in many genre films. Lorys is perhaps best known for starring in the first Spanish horror film, Jesús Franco’s The Awful Dr. Orlof (1962).

Rather oddly for a giallo film, the kills do not begin until nearly halfway through the running time. Until that point, it is the strange characters of the three afflicted sisters in their remote country villa interacting with the mysterious drifter now staying with them that intrigues us. However, we are teased with some possible violence in Gilles’ past as he has recurring dreams or memories of strangling a beautiful woman laughing at him.

True heroes may be hard to come by in giallo flicks, but you can’t fault Gilles’ work ethic. He is certainly diligent in his chores of chopping wood, raking, milking cows, and laying plenty of pipe. After all, this is a Paul Naschy-written role.

Fortunately, sexy women are always plentiful in the giallo genre, which helps maintain interest until the bloodshed begins. Therefore, our lucky loner and live-in handyman Gilles is testing the boundaries of Claude, the apparent head of the household, appreciating the beauty of the paralyzed Ivette (Maria Perschy), and wallowing in the carnal comfort of nymphomaniacal Nicole (Eva León).

Once a black-clad killer starts murdering women in the nearby village, we are playing the whodunit guessing game. Naturally, Gilles is under audience suspicion due to his violent flashbacks and shady past. The three afflicted women he is living with all have their issues. Ivette’s new nurse named Michelle (Inés Morales) arrives instead of another nurse who was murdered, and she is making secretive phone calls. Jean, the previously fired handyman, attacks Gilles with a knife. René (Luis Siges), the odd character hanging out at the village café, ogles young girls and eavesdrops on discussions of the murders between Inspector Pierre and the local physician treating Ivette, Dr. Phillipe (Eduardo Calvo).

Paul Naschy’s script gives us climaxes that are red herrings just as much as many of the characters themselves. The film ends with a very morbid scene full of sick pathos. This conclusion is supposed to be loosely inspired by an actual 1865 case in Madrid, Spain. While Naschy’s scripts borrowed elements from many previous genre films, his main intent here seems to be emulating the giallo films as popularized in the 1970s by Italian director Dario Argento. Yet this film’s final scene reminds me a lot of Argento’s much later Trauma (1993).

Carlos Aured directed only four of Paul Naschy’s films and this ranks as one of Naschy’s best. Along with cinematographer Francisco Sánchez and editor Javier Moran, Aured has made this a visually nimble and occasionally striking looking film. There is cutting on action to new camera angles during often simple actions of characters, some lighting that ratchets up the mood and suspense, and shots that take advantage of interesting locations and scenery.

Giallo films are often graced with weird and catchy music scores. The Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll does not disappoint with some nice themes by Juan Carlos Calderón. Others have commented on the musical misstep that an almost jaunty theme used to introduce us to Naschy’s Gilles is also used during his final scene, which is totally inappropriate for the mood there. Composer Calderón is probably not to blame for the repeat of that piece of music. Perhaps someone thought that the music used to introduce the character of Gilles would be ironic for his last scene. It was Naschy who had the inspired idea to use the traditional French folk tune “Frère Jacques” as the leitmotif used for the killer. That song had always creeped out Naschy as a child.

The Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll is one of my favorite Paul Naschy films. As a giallo fan, I can appreciate that Naschy is giving us a fine example of the genre that is hardly typical. It has the giallo ingredients of sex, violence, and a mystery killer, while distinguished by its rural setting and damaged characters.