A set of German lobby cards for Das Geheimnis der grünen Stecknadel (1972).
This was the 31st and second last Rialto Wallace and is internationally better known as a giallo under the title What Have You Done to Solange?
This international version is actually a longer cut to the German one and one of these days I'll need to compare the two versions properly.
(Edwin Zbonek to the right)
Though his career spanned from 1960-1982, the bulk of Edwin Zbonek's TV and movie work is from the 1960s.
He is mainly known for his TV movies but also directed two of CCC’s Bryan Edgar Wallace films: Der Henker von London/The Mad Executioners (1963), a film that combines a plot about a group of vigilante henchmen in London with that of a sex fiend/mad scientist, and Das Ungeheuer von London City/The Monster of London City (1964), featuring a narrative about a modern day Jack the Ripper.
With their splashes of grand guignol and smidgens of giallo-like elements, these are some of the best and most enjoyable Krimis outside the Rialto series. They are also remarkable in that they both somewhat dared to defy the classic idea of a Happy End that for the most part was prevalent in other films of this genre. They also presented suspects and villains that were able to elicit a certain kind of sympathy with the audience and operated in a grey area away from the traditional black and white scheme presented elsewhere.
Zbonek had also been first choice for Das siebente Opfer/The Racetrack Murders (1964) but not been available.
His feature film Am Galgen hängt die Liebe [tr. Love Hangs on the Gallows] (1960) was also written by him. Set in wartime Greece it has been described as a “partisan spaghetti western with hard Heimatfilm contours”.
He again served as combined writer/director for Deutschland - deine Sternchen [tr. Germany - Your Starlets] (1962), an early film about how the yellow press pushes the career of starlets.
Also worth of note is his action drama Die Flucht (Mensch und Bestie)/Man and Beast (1963) with Götz George as a concentration camp escapee chased by a vicious dog during a manhunt. Disillusioned by the cuts imposed on what he considered his most personal work so far, Zbonek subsequently for the most part decided to focus on more commercial productions.
Prior to becoming a director, Zbonek was one of Austria’s best known movie critics for radio and newspaper.
Parallel to his work for cinema and TV he was also a well known stage director in prestigious theatres and opera houses such as the Burgtheater and the Volksoper in Vienna and for a while even was the festival director of the Viennale. He also directed an impressive list of radio plays.
Sieben Tage Frist is one of the few Krimis that is actually a bit more readily available. Under the title School of Fear a dubbed version can be found in some regions on Amazon Prime or Cultpix. Nevertheless, it is also one of the lesser known examples of the genre. Even on German TV it had only ever been shown once, yet a lot of people who have actually watched this often rate it as one of the best and favourite Krimis ever made.
The reason why the film may not automatically come to mind in discussions about the genre is that it’s not just not part of a series but indeed epitomises quite the opposite of classic Krimi as it’s generally known.
Shot in 1969 towards the end of the great Krimi era, this is a contemporary thriller based on the novel Sieben Tage Frist for Schramm [tr. “Seven Days Grace for Schramm”] by German author Paul Henricks.
In actual fact despite being directed by Alfred Vohrer and starring a couple of familiar Krimi faces, the film can easily be described as an anti-Wallace.
Set in a wintery landscape in the German Federal State of Schleswig-Holstein, the plot takes place in a boarding school for boys as opposed to all the various Rialto institutions for girls. Urban London is replaced by a barren coastal seaside that also features a solitary brothel with a somewhat blasphemous and political wall painting.
Students read underground magazines and use swear words. Bullying and animal cruelty is part of life for the school’s pupils.
Homosexuality was only fully decriminalised in Germany in 1994 but gay acts between adults above the age of 21 were already made legal in 1969, the year this film was shot, and a gay subtext clearly permeates this movie. We even get a glimpse of some brief full frontal male nudity.
And if that wasn’t enough at some stage we even get a Nazi war crime reveal.
For the most part Krimis were part of the German entertainment establishment of the 1960s and as such remained staunchly apolitical. Barring some mild references to the Third Reich in some of the earlier Mabuse films of the 1960s (small wonder given their pedigree), it is genuinely difficult to come up with other contemporary samples of the genre that contain elements of “Vergangenheitsbewältigung” (= coming to terms with the country’s past).
The student revolts of 1968 changed all that and left a big impact on German culture and society and this film is a reflection of this and an attempt to create a mélange of a traditional Krimi with a social awareness.
The link that ties those two spheres together is the employment of old school talent in front of and behind the camera.
Rather than use an up and coming director of the New German Cinema who had declared that “"Opas Kino ist tot” (Grandad’s cinema is dead), Luggi Waldleitner, the producer, wisely chose Alfred Vohrer to direct this production. Vohrer together with cinematographer Ernst W. Kalinke (another established Krimi-routinier) captured the bleak winter landscape remarkably well but also - typical for similar productions of the time - overdid the zooms.
This is Joachim Fuchsberger’s seventh and final collaboration with Vohrer and given the context of this production it is symptomatic that he no longer plays the dashing young hero but instead a teacher at the school, ie an older authority figure to the younger generation (albeit one that is most interested in solving the crimes).
Horst Tappert is the constantly (to the point of comical annoyance for the viewer) cigar-chomping-and-spitting investigating officer. Given that in real life Tappert a few years after his death was outed as having been a member of the SS, it is ironic that in this film he is one of the men responsible for revealing war crimes. One wonders what must have gone through his head when he shot this film. Did he ever ponder what would happen if his own involvement in Nazi atrocities became public knowledge?
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The only one of the younger actors with anything resembling a film career was Frithjof Vierock who was mainly known as a comedy actor and at this stage had been in the business for close to a decade. For Arthur Richelman who plays Kurrat, the main pupil, however, this would remain his only feature film.
There is no debate: School of Fear is a highly unusual and more contemporary classic Krimi than anything else we have come to know from this genre. It is much more political, radical and socially conscious than the other series and for that reason alone it is worth a rediscovery.
And yet, I also can’t help but feel that it is this very contemporariness that also dates it more than its better known predecessors.
Nobody would accuse the Edgar Wallace Krimis to still be super current in 2024. They clearly have developed various sheets of patina but as they are set in an entirely fictitious universe that never really existed in the real world, they also contain a timelessness that School of Fear, a production clearly routed in 1969, lacks.
The German trailer has comments from the three leading actors that despite their lengthy résumés, none of them had ever been in a film that "hits the nerve" as much as this one.
The German PAL Region 2 DVD appears to also contain the English track and is available from Amazon UK, Amazon US and Amazon DE. It is, however, very pricey at this stage.
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It is the brainchild of Boris Brosowski from the Death at the Grindhouse blog. He had contacted me with the idea and in early September we met in person when I was visiting Germany again and hit it off instantly, chatted for hours about all things Krimi and Cult movie related over a few bevvies and then at the end of an amazing meeting when we realised we hadn't even properly discussed the magazine we just briefly asked ourselves: "So, are we going to do this?" and answered it with a "Hell yeah!"
And now less than three months later the inaugural issue is ready for sale. It is first English language magazine dedicated to this genre and we're in it for the long time. Exclusively available in print, it can be ordered via Amazon UK, Amazon US or through any of the other Amazon channels worldwide.
The reason why we numbered this as 0 is because we wanted to first of all learn to come to grips with the minutiae of physical publishing as well of course as figuring out how well we can work together.
From next year on we will start with a proper Number 1 - even bigger, even better - and have also already assembled a little line up of established genre writers so exciting days ahead.
Boris has set up a blog exclusively for the magazine as well as a YouTube channel.
Killer with a Silk Scarf is one of those productions that has so much going for it and then shoots off most of its ammunition in the first quarter of an hour before meandering along for the rest of its running time.
It is the directing debut of Adrian Hoven who also produced the film and appeared uncredited in the role of a sleazy gambler and would-be debonair member of the demi-monde. Hoven was a popular actor who can also be seen in the Rialto Wallace Das Rätsel der roten Orchidee/Secret of the Red Orchid (1962) and the non-Wallace Krimi Die schwarze Kobra/The Black Cobra (1963). He would later gain notoriety by producing the Mark of the Devil (1970) and then directing its notorious sequel.
This is a modern and contemporary crime thriller set in Vienna based on a novel by female author Thea Tauentzien and distributed by Constantin Film.
We are clearly no longer in cosy Edgar Wallace territory when right at the start we are being introduced to a "bar singer" (Helga Line) arguing with her beau, Boris (Carl Möhner), while being observed by her illegitimate daughter (Susanne Uhlen) through the letter slot and subsequently strangled.
The daughter is living with a greedy foster family who only cares about the money they make of her. A neighbour comments that Lineés character was a good'un despite her disreputable profession as she otherwise would have simply got an abortion rather than give birth.
All those topics bring us closer to a much more realistic approach to the thriller genre than what we would otherwise expect from a 1960s Krimi.
Adi Berber is briefly shown as a police inspector, a very welcome change of pace for the actor who was often typecast as a threatening menace. It would have been welcome if his part could have been extended. Berber died of cancer before the film was released and his lines had to be dubbed by somebody else.
Berber is not the only actor to get short shrift. Liné is very prominently placed in the credits and yet her part may be crucial to the plot but she is also just on screen for a few short minutes. Again, quite shocking for black and white Krimis of the time, we see Boris put his hands down her blouse and over her braless breast as a forceful display of possessive behaviour.
Silk Scarf further breaks with established traditions in that it is not a Whodunnit and that the main protagonist is a young girl physically threatened by the villain. The killer is clearly known right from the start and the focus is on the hunt for 10-year old Susanne Uhlen’s character.
Uhlen is the true discovery of this film in which she gave her debut. She would subsequently become a very popular TV Star in Germany with a career lasting up until very recent years.
In the later part of the film Hoven is edging again by introducing some mild nudity and showing a chase sequence in the sewers of Vienna (clearly inspired by The Third Man) that culminates in seeing the corpse of a burning man surrounded by sewer rats. Little wonder that the sadistic Mark of the Devil was not far around the corner for him as he was clearly aiming to break some boundaries.
The trouble with this production is that despite a strong start and somewhat arresting finish, the plot dawdles aimlessly for a large part of its running time.
With the killer being known it would have been important to create genuine tension yet even some of the chase sequences are lacklustre and a lot of time is spent with police interviews that for the viewer (who knows the culprit) just aren’t terribly involving. The one thing that positively sticks out in that part of the film are the scenes on contemporary Vienna, most notably of the amusement park Prater.
Even introducing a further element of chasing a large sum of money that the victim had brought in from abroad is not majorly adding to the excitement.
The main inspector is played by Folco Lulli, largely unknown in Germany, but obviously hired on behalf of the Italian co-financiers Sagittario Film.
Lulli’s character is assisted by Herald Juhnke (Das Testament des Dr. Mabuse/The Terror of Dr. Mabuse, 1962) as a mild comic relief character.
We are led to believe that no matter where she goes the girl just happens to stumble upon Boris and yet at the same time the police are incapable of locating her after a journalist revealed that she can identify her mother’s killer.
From a distance of nearly 60 years watching how this girl gets treated by the authorities is an eye opener: being lied to about her mother’s death and told she’d just be in hospital is considered a blessing; even when she is aware of her mother’s death she is expected to show up in school (but doesn’t); the threat of an orphanage is always looming over her and her foster parents do not show the slightest bit of interest in her other than as seeing her as an extra source of income.
Upon release Silk Scarf flopped. On the list of the most successful German Krimis this production ranks as #82 and in 1966, the year of its release, with just 204,000 tickets sold in Germany it barely broke into the country’s Top 200. It appears that an English version may at one stage have been shown on US TV.
It is a film that showed a lot of promise and willingness to break established Krimi boundaries but ultimately wasted them with a stale execution.
One of the biggest draw backs for anyone outside of Germany trying to get into the Rialto Edgar Wallace Krimi series has always been the lack of English friendly versions of the films.
True, you could get the complete German box set either from Amazon UK or Amazon DE but only about 2/3 of the films there have English language subs or dubs so any new English friendly print deserves some praise and as it happens Creature with the Blue Hand, one of the two films in this new release, is a Rialto Wallace.
I had previously reviewed the film here and posted a lobby card set here.
This Double Feature comes with a booklet and a series of extras:
Having in the past already written a few lines about the proto-Giallo Zimmer 13/Room 13 (1964), methinks it's time to post a set of lobby cards for this film.
