Subsequent to the success of his Il gatto dagli occhi di giada (Watch Me When I Kill) (1977), producers asked its director, Antonio Bido, to direct another giallo. Unfortunately, he did not have a script prepared, but a friend of his wife led him to a young talented writer. Bido found one of the young writer's short stories intriguing and thought it would make a good film. Bido wrote the script with Domenico Malan and Marisa Andalò (who would become his wife). Starring Lino Capolicchio, Stefania Casini, and Craig Hill, Bido's film is Solamente nero (The Bloodstained Shadow) (1978).
Capolicchio is Stefano, a university professor from Rome, who is heading to Venice to see his brother, Don Paolo (Craig Hill), the priest of the local parish. (Although the film is set in Venice, Bido admits that he only shot one scene in the city. Solamente is actually filmed on the Venetian island of Murano.) Aboard the train, Stefano meets Sandra (Casini), also from Rome who is returning to the town of her childhood. Stefano meets Don Paolo who misses his younger brother and is also eager to share with Stefano the local gossip (almost letting slip information that Don Paolo learned in the confessional). Over dinner, Stefano sees an older woman dining alone. Don Paolo informs Stefano that the woman is a spiritualist who hosts seances for a select group of the locals. Stefano receives a sinister vibe from the woman. That evening, Stefano retires, along with Don Paolo in the rectory. Don Paolo is awakened by screams coming from the window. It is dark and rainy, and at his window, Don Paolo witnesses what he believes to be a murder, a strangling of a woman in the street. Don Paolo summons his assistant and Stefano to investigate the scene, but no corpse is found. The following morning a corpse is found across town, the body of the sinister spiritualist, strangled in the same manner as a young woman many years ago. The case of the young woman was never solved. Don Paolo begins to receive threatening and cryptic letters, and Stefano becomes sleuth--determined help his brother by learning what happened to the sinister spiritualist and also, the murder of the young woman years before.
Adrian Luther-Smith in his essential Blood & Black Lace: The Definitive Guide to Italian Sex and Horror Movies makes this very astute observation about Solamente nero: "Bido again takes his cue from Argento (a child-like painting holds the clue to the killer's identity, while [Stelvio] Cipriani's excellent score imitates Goblin's Suspiria score), Pupi Avati (the casting of Lino Capolicchio, the lead from La casa dalle finestre che ridono), and Fulci (echoes of Don't Torture a Duckling), but originality has never been the main point of Italian thrillers." Bido wanted to hire Goblin to score the film. Unfortunately, Cinevox (Goblin's record label) wanted the film's producers to pay for the score up front, which was contrary to the current custom in the Italian film industry where composers were paid from the film's receipts (or total gross). Claudio Simonetti, Goblin's front man, suggested Stelvio Cipriani for the score. Cipriani composed the music, but Goblin, subsequently freed from their Cinevox contract, arranged the music (according to Bido who credits the success of the excellent score in equal measure to both Cipriani and Goblin). Finally, just to coattail a little further upon Luther-Smith's observation, it should be noted the casting of Stefania Casini is notable, because she previously appeared in a very obscure, little-known film entitled Suspiria, shortly before The Bloodstained Shadow. 
Solamente Nero (The Bloodstained Shadow) is a very handsome production. The Murano setting of the film is essential not only to its atmosphere but its overall success. Bido, along with cinematographer Mario Vulpiani, was able to capture the isolation of a small town and its few inhabitants. The essential theme of Solamente is the dark, hidden secret of the town's past becoming exposed and revealing itself anew. So while amateur sleuth Stefano searches for present clues, he is uncovering important past ones (relating to the girl's death years before) and vice versa. Even if Bido would have been unsuccessful in tying his themes to his location, like Pupi Avati in La casa dalle finestre che ridono, Bido's authentic location would have created its own atmosphere. It is that beautiful and powerful. In a wonderful, signature giallo sequence, Casini's Sandra is being followed through the city's narrow alleyways and covered walkways. The stalker's point of view is focal, shot perfectly with handheld camera work. The claustrophobic feeling is inherent in the tight framework while the location only makes it more uncomfortable by being so genuine. 
Bido admits tension is essential to a thriller, and if he were to shoot one, today, there would be certain scenes that he would not include. Bido cites his love scene between Sandra and Stefano as the type of sequence that he would exclude. That scene is quite lovely, actually, and quite welcomed. I would disagree with Bido that this is the type of scene which slows the film's tension. For example, why Dario Argento was so adept at creating gialli was because his characters were focal in driving the narrative. It was through the eyes of the amateur sleuth which led the viewer through the plot. Whatever deficiencies existed in the plot, they were often overcome by a very close and obsessive main character. What the main character sees is more important than what is shown. David Hemmings in Profondo rosso (1975), one of Argento's masterpieces, is a perfect example. When The Bloodstained Shadow is away from Stefano and scenes are shown to further the plot (to give clues to the viewer), the tension is lessened. However, this is a minor quibble and may be an inherent flaw in plot-driven (or even mystery) cinema. Or it could be that Capolicchio and especially Casini are so very likable and watchable, their performances carry the film on equal footing with the narrative.
As in any good giallo, the real relish is reserved for the murder sequences. These are the most memorable scenes of many gialli, and The Bloodstained Shadow does not disappoint. Bido admits "Argento was his teacher," and like Argento, there is a real dedication to the subtlety of an elaborate killing. Hiding the killer's identity is essential in the scene, and the creative fun comes from quick shots of black gloves lovingly gripping a knife or some black shoes walking in the same rhythm of its victim. Frequently, all the meticulous small shots come together in an over-the-top, excessive killing crescendo. In gialli, murder is an orchestra.
The Bloodstained Shadow is stylish and, above all, smart. I originally purchased the DVD as part of the Anchor Bay Entertainment Giallo Collection years ago. I believe that set and a subsequent single-disc release is now out of print; however label Blue Underground, re-released The Bloodstained Shadow in a single-disc, affordable edition. All objective facts, save the material from Luther-Smith, are taken from an interview with Antonio Bido included on the original Anchor Bay DVD of the film. Fans of the giallo will not be disappointed. 
"My colors, my colors...they run hot in my veins" are the opening lines by an unknown narrator, spoken over a blurry, brown-hued opening sequence, where a bound man is being stabbed by two, dressed in white. The film cuts to the view from a ferry, where young Stefano (
The village is quiet, as are the residents. Stefano goes to the local hotel, where he receives a strange and threatening phone call telling him to leave. Stefano meets an old friend, Antonio (Giulio Pizzirani), at the town's only restaurant. Antonio has discovered "the strangest story ever" about a "house with laughing windows." Antonio promises to tell Stefano all that he has learned, but he never gets the chance. One evening, frantically Antonio calls Stefano and asks to meet him in Stefano's hotel room. As Stefano arrives, Antonio is seen falling from the window, where behind the curtains, the shadow of someone lingers. With his friend's death and the mysterious circumstances around the church's fresco and its artist, Stefano is finally motivated to uncover the mystery at all costs.
Pupi Avati is by no means an Italian genre director, but The House of the Laughing Windows has quite a cult following by genre fans. Also with Zeder (1983) and Arcane Sorcerer (1996), Avati proves himself to be an extremely adept film maker in regards to creating an engrossing and intriguing mystery; an atmosphere of dread and foreboding; and visuals, both beautiful and horrifyingly mesmerizing. For example, subsequent to Antonio's death, Stefano must leave the hotel, because an important guest is arriving and that guest takes Stefano's room (which is revealed later to be untrue). Stefano is gratefully housed somewhere else, a villa in the countryside, where a decrepit, dying woman resides alone. Avati treats the viewer to a brilliant tracking sequence from Stefano's P.O.V. through an overgrown trail, and as the leaves scrape of the side of the camera, the villa is revealed in the daylight tinged in darkness and decay. The villa is also covered with bizarre and haunting frescoes, and at night, shadows make noises and unwelcome visitors come and go. The details of the remaining mystery should remain hidden, although I will say that it does end unpredictably and is quite satisfying.
Avati also proves himself to be quite adept at creating drama. The blossoming romance between Francesca and Stefano is a welcome addition, and the scenes between the two actors seem real and natural. One of the best characters to develop throughout The House of the Laughing Windows is Coppola, the driver for the mayor. At the onset of the film, I thought that he would be another peripheral character in the village; however, his character becomes increasingly important to the plot and to the drama. Gianni Cavina gives an excellent performance as Coppola (he also co-wrote the screenplay). Cavina conveys a lot of the sadness and emotion in the film, especially in an interesting scene, where he tells Stefano about his initial meeting with Legnani. Lino Capolicchio carries The House of the Laughing Windows very well, as he is able to perform with both a youthful innocence and a reckless, impulsive abandon. Francesca Marciano, as Francesca, is always captivating on screen. She is absolutely beautiful and her performance is pitch-perfect.
Pupi Avati's The House of the Laughing Windows, in my opinion, is equal to the best work of Mario Bava and Dario Argento in terms of cinematography (by 
Not surprisingly, Your Hands on My Body strongest points are its script and its equally strong performances. The oft-told tale of romantic self-destruction is far from new, but the characters interact in bizarre and compelling ways. The feeling of being privy to an intimate conversation appears many times for this viewer. Lino Capolicchio's performance, as Andrea, is essential to the film's success, as his performance was also instrumental to the success of Pupi Avati's masterful House With Laughing Windows (1976) and also in Antonio Bido's stellar giallo, The Blood Stained Shadow (1978). Colette Descombes gives a terrific performance and sizzles in a sweet way, as opposed to her deviously wonderful performance in Umberto Lenzi's Orgasmo (1969). Erna Schürer, as Mirelle, shines in her supporting role. Giorgio Gaslini provides a subdued complimentary score. 