With the recent Elijah Wood remake of Maniac, attention has quite rightly turned to the original video nasty, the grimy 1980 film helmed by near legendary exploitation director William Lustig (Maniac Cop).
It’s a seedy looking uncomfortable film, gritty and unrelenting, chronicling the shadows and the sleaze of 80’s New York City as a psychopath lurks in the darkness preying upon women. It’s shot on 16mm and later blown up to 35mm, which gives the film its grainy grubbiness. When combined with the frequent point of view shots and handheld camera it offers a certain verite seediness to what already feels pretty verite and very seedy.
The subject is typical misogynist exploitation fare, lingering sadistic, highly gruesome murders shot with concerning gratuitous relish, where victims are tormented before being scalped. This is the cinema of taboo, designed to shock and provoke. The cover alone is enough, a shot from the midriff down of a man clutching a bloody knife in one hand and the scalp of a woman in another, whilst his jeans seem creepily engorged in the groin area.
It’s the kind of film not unlike Fulci’s similar New York Ripper or the more recent Serbian Film that once watched you feel the immediate need to wash, if only to get the grime off your psyche.
Yet what elevates Maniac beyond your standard slasher fare is the twitchy sweating uncomfortable performance by Joe Spinell, a character actor who to this point had bit parts in The Godfather, Taxi Driver, Rocky and Cruising amongst others. Spinell conceived of this role himself and is credited with the story as well as serving as executive producer, and there’ no doubt he’s personally responsible for the menacing unhinged character of Frank Zito.
Zito is simultaneously vulnerable and sadistic, and these contradictions drive Maniac, as Spinell’s laboured breathing and muttering on the soundtrack alongside Lustig’ frequent point of view shots place the viewer into Zito’ anguished inner world. Zito hears and responds to voices and is engaged with an ongoing conversation with himself, simultaneously repelled and excited by his crimes, yet strangely tormented as he relives the abuse he suffered as a child with each murder.
The score is from Jay Chattaway, and while it’s quite sparse and creepy, mixing electric and acoustic instruments it does posses that big 80′ synth sound and when combined with a deep sparse bass guitar is suitably edgy. It has of course recently been reissued in a limited vinyl run from Mondo, that sold out immediately and is now highly sought after.
Curiously the only non-female victim is effects guru Tom Savini whose head explodes from a close impact shotgun blast. Whilst its great to see a young Savini putting the moves on his lady, perhaps the most important point is that he’ responsibly for all the hyper gore effects, which is always a good thing.
Maniac is a moment in time, and it’s a time that’s passed. It’s the violent grimy sleaze of a New York that no longer exists, a low budget shocker that marries its politically incorrect slasher schlock with the kind of tour de force performance that you rarely encounter in exploitation film.
