Happy Goat Horror

Okay, let’s get this straight: A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin is not just any giallo—this is a cinematic fever dream, a bizarre slice of 70s Italian cinema that veers into territory so strange, you’ll almost start questioning your grip on reality. But here’s the thing: it’s wonderfully weird. If you’re looking for something that defies expectations, dances through genres like an unhinged acid trip, and delivers a disturbingly beautiful nightmare, you’re in the right place.

First, let’s talk about the director, Lucio Fulci, who was no stranger to the twisted side of horror. Known for his visceral gore, Fulci always managed to inject a sense of disorienting atmosphere, but with A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin, he takes it a step further. This film isn’t just about the murder mystery and those iconic slashing moments (though there’s plenty of that too). It’s about diving into the psyche, and Fulci nails that uncomfortable, oppressive atmosphere like a master.

We follow Carol (played by the always captivating Florinda Bolkan), a woman whose mind seems to unravel after she begins to experience strange, psychedelic dreams—dreams that blur the lines between reality and her subconscious. There’s a murder, a scandal, and a lot of questionable behavior. But really, it’s all about the weirdness. The plot may sound standard on paper, but what Fulci does with it is anything but. It’s a masterpiece in psychodrama, a visual buffet of surrealistic beauty and nightmarish terror.

Now, let’s talk about the visuals, because A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin might just be one of the most strikingly beautiful giallos you’ll ever lay eyes on. The film’s color palette is drenched in wild hues that swirl around the dark undercurrents of mystery, sex, and violence. Those dream sequences? Prepare yourself for mind-melting moments that will leave you wondering if you’ve stepped into a Salvador Dalí painting or a strobe-lit fever dream. If you love the bizarre, the offbeat, and the unnervingly strange, then this movie will have you eating out of its metaphorical, lizard-shaped hand.

What really works for me, though, is how much A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin leans into its unexplainable weirdness without ever quite giving you a comfortable narrative to latch onto. I mean, this movie doesn’t let you off the hook. The twists, the bizarre dream sequences, the feeling that everything is just a little… off—it leaves you feeling like you’re caught in an endless loop of disorienting sensations. And honestly? That’s why I love it. It’s so unapologetically strange, you can’t help but get sucked in, even if you don’t quite understand what you’re watching.

Now, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t your typical giallo slasher. The pacing can be a bit slow, and the mystery isn’t as neatly wrapped up as you might expect. But for me, the strangeness is what makes it such an unforgettable ride. It feels more like a fever dream than a conventional crime thriller, and I can’t get enough of that dreamlike atmosphere.

And let’s talk about the music. A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin wouldn’t be the same without its hauntingly trippy score by the great Ennio Morricone. He brings his A-game here, mixing suspense with a kind of strange, dream-like melody that perfectly complements the visuals. It’s a soundtrack that keeps you on edge, yet somehow calms you, like the quiet before a storm you know is coming but can’t avoid.

But, let’s be real: if you’re expecting a straightforward giallo with a sharp, linear plot, you’re in for a bit of a disappointment. This film isn’t trying to be “normal.” It’s not going to hand you answers on a silver platter. But if you’re like me, and you’ve got an affinity for the bizarre, the unsettling, and the beautifully surreal, then A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin will become an obsession. You might not always understand what’s happening, but you’re going to love every weird, confusing minute of it.

In the end, what makes A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin a standout for me isn’t just its weirdness—it’s the way it transcends the typical giallo mold. It takes everything you think you know about the genre and turns it on its head, leaving you with an experience that’s as unsettling as it is captivating. Fulci created something truly unique here—both a psychological thriller and a hallucinatory descent into madness—and it’s this perfect marriage of nightmare logic and giallo stylization that makes it one of my favorites. If you haven’t seen this one yet, trust me, you’re in for a wild, strange, and unforgettable ride.