Death Smiles on a Murderer (1973)

Death Smiles on a Murderer is the kind of Gothic horror that feels less like a story you follow and more like a fever dream you slip into—lush, morbidly romantic, and haunted by the sense that every hallway holds a secret. Joe D’Amato leans into an eerie, trippy atmosphere where amnesia, obsession, and the supernatural blur together, and the film’s pleasures come as much from its uncanny mood and decadent period vibe as from its jolts of violence. With Ewa Aulin radiating an otherworldly pull and Klaus Kinski bringing his signature, unsettling intensity, it becomes strangely mesmerizing even when it’s at its most grotesque. Fair warning: the gore is severe and the sexuality is provocative, so it’s not for the squeamish—but if you like your horror dreamlike, nasty, and fascinating in equal measure, this one lingers.

Death Smiles on a Murderer is clearly aiming for that dreamy, decadent slice of early-’70s Euro-horror: gothic mansions, twisted family desire, and an undead woman drifting through a fog of trauma and revenge. The problem is it often feels more like a string of lurid shocks and sleazy set-pieces than a story with real emotional weight, with pacing that can wander and characters who are hard to care about beyond their depravity. The violence is not coy—there’s nasty, up-close gore and sadistic imagery—so if you’re sensitive to sexual assault themes, childbirth death, or cruelty played for exploitation, this will likely feel ugly rather than thrilling. If you can meet it on its own terms, there are redeeming pleasures: a moody atmosphere, striking gothic visuals, and the sheer unhinged energy of the cast, but it’s very much for fans of grimy, transgressive Italian horror rather than viewers seeking a classy or coherent supernatural mystery.