Born in Rome 08/08/42, Giannetto De Rossi worked as a makeup artist on the Burton/Taylor The Taming of the Shrew (1967), then on Sergio Leone’s epochal Once Upon a Time in the West (1968) the followi ng year, creating bullet hits, wounds, etc. In the early 70’s he alternated such prestigious gigs as Waterloo (1970) and The Valachi Papers (1972) with cheesy sex comedies like Pasquale Festa Campanile’s When Women Had Tails (1970), Bruno Corbucci’s mindboggling When Men Carried Clubs and Women Played Ding-Dong (1971) and All’Onorevole Piacciono Le Donne/The Eroticist (1971) by Lucio Fulci, the director with whom Giannetto would make such an impact ten years later.
Beyond possibly pinning the tails on those women in the Campanile film, De Rossi’s efforts on this tacky trio amounted to little more than routine make-up chores, and it was not until Jorge Grau’s 1974 Italo-Spanish coproduction Let Sleeping Corpses Lie (1974) that he was first given the opportunity to shine in the field of gore FX.
Pertinent grisly highlights include the deserved disemboweling of a tittle tattling telephonist and the similar demise of a Cumbrian copper. In another foreshadowing of great things to come, Giannetto had his first stab
at multiple zombie make-ups in this picture, and laughingly recalls how he nearly blew the “old lady” zombie’s head clean off her shoulders with one squib! Rumors persist of “missing footage” in which we would have witnessed the consumption of the aforementioned police officer’s eyeballs. No matter, the world had not seen the last of eye-violence, De Rossi-style… De Rossi’s C.V. for the rest of the ’70s ranges from the Art house to the outhouse, with credits that include Fellini’s Casanova (1976) and, just one year later, Enzo Castellari’s The Inglorious Bastards (1978) plus Joe D’Amato’s infamous Emanuelle in America (1977), where Laura Gemser’s expose of a snuff movie ring, played with characteristic tastefulness as a jolly soft-core romp, jars horribly with the grueling nature of what she unearths.
This includes, along with the more routine horrors of gang rape, buttock branding, breast blowtorching, nipple hacking, giant dildo and meat hook impalement, and the forced consumption (like anyone would volunteer!) of boiling oil. These gore FX (and such is the grainy, fly-on-the-South-American-torture dungeon-wall impact of the footage that many breathed a hefty sigh of relief when reassured that the atrocities really were staged effects) are attributed to Maurizio Trani in the film’s credits, while De Rossi is credited as boom operator.
But it has always beggared credibility that he didn’t have a hand in the splatter stuff, and when I met and interviewed Joe D’Amato he confirmed to me that this was indeed the case. Perhaps at this stage, having just worked for Fellini, De Rossi wanted to distance himself from guts and grue, feeling that his future lay in more “up-market material.
Any such notion would have been bashed right out of his skull by the phenomenal success of George Romero’s zombie epic Dawn Of The Dead and its drastic effect on Italian horror in general and the Latin living dead scene in particular. Completing his duties on Aldo Lado’s potboiling space-opera The Humanoid (1979), De Rossi was to spend the next couple of years wallowing in a gore-nucopia of graphically grueling delights.
Did you know that you always wanted to follow your father into the world of special makeup effects?
Giannetto De Rossi: No, no, no… Initially I did not even want to work in this business, but a series of minor events intervened. I hated Latin so I looked for a school that didn’t teach it – you know, where the language was not part of mandatory studies. So I tried to get into a school of fine arts, but I really didn’t know if I was able to draw at such a good level. However, I discovered I could soon after being admitted. I pursued a career in the “arts” after that.
Can you talk about watching your father at work in the early years?
Giannetto De Rossi: My father was working on films such as Il Gattopardo (The Leopard), with Luciano Visconti, and The Bible, the film that John Huston made. And I started out with him – like his assistant. But right at the beginning I didn’t like it. I would think, “What kind of job is this? Wiping the sweat off actors!” I could only see the superficial aspects of his job. Then on Cleopatra I worked on the scene in which Elizabeth Taylor is surrounded by the “marble men” and all of these small, colorfully made-up extras, and I realized then just how striking the set had become – like a beautiful picture. That’s when I became enthusiastic about cinema, and from that moment onwards I tried to raise the bar – and I was relentlessly working at a great pace throughout the sixties and seventies. I have some other good memories too – for instance, my father established a close relationship with Audrey Hepburn when he did Roman Holiday. I got to spend time with her and she was such a sweet person… dear Audrey… so adorable. This was back in the fifties. That was a very busy period for my father – he did Ben-Hur in 1959, which was a huge production….
You had done The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue (1974)
Giannetto De Rossi: Yes, that was with Jorge Grau. We began our work on that film in London, not Manchester, I think. Grau was a delightful person, very smart and what he tried to do with that film was to direct it as if it were a more realistic and serious story… as you probably know horror films in Italy don’t exist anymore – and they were not worthy of attention from the critics back then, so Jorge wanted to make something believable. He approached the film in a serious manner and he liked my work – we were both similarly crazy, always finding ways to make things more complicated for ourselves. I was sorry to hear of his passing.
And your work certainly caused the adrenaline to flow in your audience, for instance some viewers of the effects in Emanuelle in America (1977) thought it was a real snuff movie!
Giannetto De Rossi: The day before I would do these complicated effects, which had to be realistic, I wouldn’t sleep or eat anything. I would tell myself, “Giannetto, you can’t fall to pieces” but then two hours before getting started, the adrenaline would kick off again. At that time, in Italy, we would sometimes work 16 hours a day. Those who watched me at work thought I was mad because I was going at 200km an hour. Anyway, my priority in my line of work has been that I have always tried to create the effect directly on the actor, so that you will think it really happened. So no dummies, no inserts, and this isn’t easy, in fact it’s crazy. It only added to my pressure!
The picture that really launched his legend, as already stated, was Fulci’s Zombie 2 (1979). As well as the expected Romero lifts (the zombies’ intestinal barbecue and suchlike), De Rossi, in nightmarish concert with Fulci, evidenced an audacious inventiveness that would prove the hallmark of the latter’s zombie series.
We’ve already acknowledged the impact of Olga Karlatos’ eye-squishing, and as for the underwater biting contest between a shark and a skinny-dipping zombie… words fail me, A genius for improvisational ingenuity is also behind the climactic zombie-torching sequence. Close inspection of which reveals that only one Molotov cocktail was ever tossed (and filmed from several angles) in the gotterdammerung of the grungy deadheads, a barnstorming sequence fo all that. De Rossi is particularly proud of the unique look he attained for his zombies by the unlikely method of applying clay and pottery directly to the extras’ faces – “Fulci and I called them the walking flowerpots,” he told Italian journalist Loris Curci.
Luigi Cozzi’s Contamination (1980), made in the same year, characteristically attempted to combine the zombie boom with Alien fever, pitching Flesh Eaters star lan McCulloch against pulsating Martian pods and kicking off with a Hudson Bay helicopter intro that replays the opening to Fulci’s picture almost shot for-shot. The Corridori brothers must carry the can for the woeful “alien Cyclops” who pops his one-eyed ugly mug up at the “climax” of Contamination, but the exploding innards that regularly decorate Cozzi’s masterwork, and which caused much gnashing of teeth and clicking of scissors down at the BBFC, are all the work of our Giannetto.
With plenty more ZFE rip-offs in various stages of production in 1980, Fabrizio De Angelis figured “if you can’t beat,’em join’em” and decided to crank out a rip off of his own production. Zombie Holocaust (1980) borrows the Fulci film’s Caribbean locations and again trots McCulloch out, to take on both zombies and cannibals, all under the control of psychotic surgeon Donald O’Brien. De Rossi is on hand, with trusty sidekick Maurizio Trani, to help McCulloch bore into a zombie’s head with a handy dandy outboard motor and to render such additional magic moment as natives plucking out and feasting on an explorer’s eyes, the doc’s grisly brain transplanting antics, and some of the gloopiest, most laughable zombie make ups this side of… well, this side of Andrea Bianchi’s hysterical Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror (1981)
This saga of overacting bit-players besieged in a villa by ancient Etruscan dead dudes “boasts” amateurish looking zombies who spurt orange blood when decapitated, eviscerated, etc, and a clumsy restaging of Zombie Flesh Eaters’ most notorious moment, a pane of glass substituting for that bamboo splinter. Not that Nights is completely bereft of originality – the scene in which zombie gnome Peter Bark bites his mother Mariangela Giordano’s flapping chunk of her breast off stands as a film first, and thankfully looks as though it’s going to stand as a film last too! The fact that both Giannetto De Rossi and Gino De Rossi are cited as the men responsible for this movie’s lamentable effects seems to lend credence to the idea that “Gino” is a name used by Giannetto when he doesn’t want to fess up to his crappier efforts…
Having contributed to plenty of other people’s attempts to ape a Fulci zombie movie, Giannetto next worked once again on the genuine article… or did he? It’s often stated that De Rossi took a powder from City of the Living Dead (1980) and left its FX in the capable hands of his assistant Franco Rufini, the man named in the film’s credits, although Giannetto has spoken in interviews about contributing FX to the picture. This eccentric Italian attitude to accreditation is what simultaneously fuels and frustrates the efforts of those who make it their life’s work to straighten out pasta exploitation filmographies.
Can you recall your very first meeting with the late, great Lucio Fulci?
Giannetto De Rossi: As usual – it is what everyone will tell you. It was with his pipe in his pocket and every time he put his hand in his coat, half a kilo of ash would fall out. He was stupendous in his lunacy, and in his craziness, but he was also a real intellectual. I remember once with Lucio Fulci, after an effect, my adrenaline was rushing… you see I am adrenaline-powered. I can’t stop for even a moment when I am on the set. I have never taken a drug in my life, because I think I would die instantly. Anyway, Fulci looks at me after this effect, and I forget which film it was, and he saw my composure and said, “Are you still excited?” I touched my heart and it was going a mile-a-minute. It may seem incredible… but I was just trying to control my adrenaline and calm myself now that the special effect was over.
How did Zombie Flesh-Eaters come into your life?
Giannetto De Rossi: Well, with Fulci I had already worked on his comedies, The Eroticist (1972) and The Maniacs (1964). So he came to me. These seventies sex comedies are very different from his horror work! Yes, but they were still good fun to make. There is this surreal dream sequence in The Eroticist, which was drawn-up and conceived by me. I have always been very meticulous if I have a good idea. That is perhaps the reason why some directors couldn’t stand me!
But if I had an idea that I thought was worthwhile, I would go up to the director and tell him so. Now, Lucio Fulci was a director I would often express my ideas to. And do you know what? Forty times out of fifty he would follow my suggestions. In my view, he was an absolute treasure as a filmmaker – and as an individual, he was an absolute treasure too.
What did you think when you got the script to Zombie Flesh-Eaters?
Giannetto De Rossi: Well, let’s be totally honest here – it was clear that they wanted to do a copy of Romero’s film, Night of the Living Dead, and also his sequel Dawn of the Dead. However, Fulci was coming from a difficult place work-wise because both of these movies had been released already and they were big hits. So when I read the script I said, “Lucio, we can’t compete with what Romero has done, we should focus everything on the zombies and the special effects instead…”
Which you most certainly did. And is it true you did not have many people to play the zombies, despite the fact the film looks as if it is swarming with them?
Giannetto De Rossi: Yes, that is very true! And the thing is, if you have to create ten zombies per day, you need to get ten actors and you need to take individual, specific moulds of their faces and then you create prosthetics with the material of your choice. But they weren’t going to give me ten people for the whole period because this was just a low-budget production. Instead, they would just pick who they could get for that day of filming out in the Caribbean. So, I had this idea of using red clay and created the make-up effects on the spot. I would get a gentleman, sit him in front of me and deform everything, his nose, ears, his whole face. Poor things… these extras would go around like this all day and then in the evening they would need to take a 45-minute shower to get it all off again!
Now, the famous eye moment was a difficult special effect to realize.
Giannetto De Rossi: Everything you see in the film, the hand crashing through the door, the zombie looking at her in the shower… initially it was all much more banal. I told Lucio I would come up with something a bit more exciting. When I told him my idea, he agreed and I was lucky… I was in charge of that effect: I grabbed the head of the actress and the hand you see in the close-ups is mine. When it becomes a dummy head, I am the one pushing it into the spike of wood as well. I managed to establish the shot in such a way that you can mainly see the white part of the eye, which then gets squished. And it is made of mortician’s wax filled with egg. It came out very well on the screen, despite the fact you do not actually see any blood coming out.
And what do you recall about designing the zombies for the film?
Giannetto De Rossi: Regarding the zombies, I actually have a nice anecdote I want to share. My friend, Ottaviano Dell’Acqua, the famous stuntman, had to emerge from beneath the soil, in that famous sequence in the old graveyard. I had put a bunch of worms, suspended on some hooks, in the clay I had put on his face. There were a few on his eye and some others near his mouth. At one point, as we were working on him, one of these worms freed itself from the hook and nearly got into his nose. We caught it in the nick of time. God knows where it would have ended up if it had crawled all the way into his nose. It could have been a tragedy. That scene came out well, I think… when he rises from the dirt. Everyone remembers it. It was on Zombi 2 that we really established a feeling, me and Fulci, even if he was an intellectual and I am a little rougher.
So much so you would work closely together again on The Beyond (1981)
Giannetto De Rossi: There was great affection there and, yes, the closeness we had on The Beyond is comparable. However, Zombie Flesh-Eaters is a bit more special because it was our first horror film and it was greater than anyone could have expected.
I had a wonderful relationship with Fulci both humanly and professionally. He was a genius, a great talent, a pity only for that impetuous and difficult character he had, which created many problems in the workplace. I remember his pipe, which he never separated from and which he regularly let go out in his jacket pocket. So much so that at the end of the day he accumulated at least 3 cm of ash in his pocket. In my opinion it has not been re-evaluated to the right extent. He has known dark moments and strong despair during his career due to the failure of some of his films, but also garnered great acclaim, in particular with one of the films we made together, namely Zombies 2, which was at the top of the American box office for three weeks. From there he then took off, I think for example of another extraordinary film made together as And you will live in terror – The afterlife .
De Rossi wasn’t credited for his stint on Argento’s Inferno (1980) either then again, neither was the immortal Mario Bava and, given this track record of anonymous effort, it’s tempting to ascribe the visceral outrages in Fulci’s Contraband (1980) (officially credited to Germano Natali), The New York Ripper (1982) (Franco Di Girolami and Rosario Prestopino) and Manhattan Baby (1982) (Maurizio Trani) to the bloody hand of Giannetto de Rossi. The special effects in these films are certainly up to the high standard of his acknowledged work on the Fulci zombie pictures, and infinitely superior to some of the stuff in Fulci’s post Fabrizio De Angelis period.
Anyway, it’s safe to say that De Rossi contributed FX to City of the Living Dead (1980), and to say otherwise would be to deny him some of the stand out achievements of his career: the Black and Decker trepanning of John Morghen, poor old Daniela Doria literally puking her guts up, and sundry brainectomies all stand up to scrutiny far better than some of Giannetto’s contributions to the other Fulci zombie classic he worked on in The Beyond (1981).
In that movie such sequences as the supernatural spider attack, Dicky the Dog’s savaging of his blind mistress, and Joe the plumber’s eye gouging are indeed, as the Aurum encyclopedia has it, “tackled with admirable gusto”, but they’re often also imperfectly executed. Check out those embarrassing pipecleaner tarantulas, the patently latex appliances that mar Dicky’s finest hour, and Joe’s eyelid apparently glued to his extracted orb, not to mention the two inch nail that seems to magically quadruple in length in order to enter the back of a Mrs Mop’s skull and (you guessed) poke her eye out.
On the plus side though, there’s the excellent, gruelingly realized pre-titles chain whipping, crucifixion and burning of a warlock (De Rossi announcing himself particularly pleased with “that great purple look” of this unfortunate character’s acid-burned head) and, best of all, David Warbeck shooting daylight through the head of a bratty little girl.
De Rossi rounded off a hectic 1980 by working on Antonio Margheriti’s Cannibal Apocalypse (1980), supplying mainly bite wounds as man-eating Vietnam Vets John Morghen and Tony King go AWOL and mount an anthropophagous odyssey through Atlanta, Georgia. Rumours persist about the existence of a “much gorier” version of this movie, but after pursuing all leads, I’ve regretfully come to the conclusion that this is just another of those anorak-fuelled urban legends.
Giannetto De Rossi contributed gut-munching, eye-gouging, hand-lopping, dick-chopping, brain scoffing and tit-piercing of a quality as high as anything on Giannetto’s CV to Umberto Lenzi’s Cannibal Ferox (1981), the same year that Giannetto renewed his collaboration with Lucio Fulci in The House by the Cemetery (1981). The gore score was rather low in this one but the patchwork Dr Freudstein is an impressive creation, and his subterranean charnel house, in which little Giovanni Frezza finds himself trapped, a truly nightmarish one.
In 1982 Giannetto signed up for Piranha II: The Spawning (1981), the movie on which Ovidio Assonitis sacked James Cameron – which kind of makes him the film world equivalent of the music exec who passed on the Beatles! The tough time Cameron endured on this movie probably accounts for his legendary “hard guy to work for” persona… apparently the film was so under-resourced that Cameron was obliged to lend De Rossi a hand in the FX shop, churning out the flying beasties that emerge to bite the faces off a bunch of beach revellers chanting “We want fish! We want fish!”
Gianneito handled makeup chores on Conan the Destroyer (1984) and assisted Carlo Rambaldi on Dune (1981) and King Kong Lives (1986), also contributing FX to Rambo III (1988), before he was rewarded for years of labour under another alleged hard ass, Fabrizio De Angelis, when that producer offered him the chance to helm Killer Crocodile 2 (1989).
You have worked with James Cameron at the beginning of his career ….
Giannetto De Rossi: Yes, we were together on Piranha II: The Spawning (1981). Cameron was fired by producer Ovidio Assonitis. Funny, isn’t it? The guy is so rich now. Assonitis, like most producers who have some knowledge on directing, was expecting something totally different from Cameron. He was not satisfied so one day he just took over and completed the film. I shot a couple of sequences too, and the monsters weren’t so bad. Just another B-movie though….
What is your opinion on Italian genre directors?
Giannetto De Rossi: Dario Argento’s earlier works, the giallos, and most of all Suspiria and Inferno, were authentic masterpieces. The guy was a genius! Now I don’t like his recent stuff: Opera was disconcerting. It’s hard to understand what he’s up to! The situation in Italy is simply dramatic.
You worked on Conan the Destroyer (1984) and Dune (1984)
Giannetto De Rossi: I had come from the low budget horror films and I remember at the first important meeting I had for a major Hollywood movie, which was for Dune, we were all sitting around the table, all the effects people. And I started counting the Oscars won by everybody present, and I thought, “Great, so what am I doing here?”
What’s the real story behind Dune?
Giannetto De Rossi: You might want to know that I had a very hard time on Dune. I was assistant to Carlo Rambaldi. I worked on the Navigator, which David liked a lot, and did some minor stuff, like make-up and everything..
The worms were terrible…
Giannetto De Rossi: Yeah, they were big chunks of plastic with no life whatsoever. I was not involved with the worms! Rambaldi does beautiful things sometimes, and sometimes his work is not very good. When I saw the dailies of King Kong Lives (the producers wanted me to make a beauty queen out of Linda Hamilton!), my feeling was that they were really ruining the film with those cheap gorilla costumes. They were so fake .. Carlo told me he was given very little time to work on the costumes, and that they were running short on budget. Nevertheless, the results were not as successful as the first King Kong, but then Rambaldi had Rick Baker in the team, so I guess that, in part, explains the difference. As for Dune, the film should have run the original four hours Lynch conceived. And in that case, you would have seen another movie altogether. The worms were no good, working in the desert was terrible but Lynch is a wonderful director, and the actors were so brilliant! It’s a pity they decided to cut it down to two hours.
Sylvester Stallone called you to do Rambo III (1988), which was slated to be one of the year’s biggest blockbusters.
Giannetto De Rossi: Stallone is an incredibly intelligent person, incredibly spoiled, but a wonderful filmmaker. I actually think he could have done even more as a director, if he hadn’t surrounded himself with ‘yes-men’. I wasn’t one of them – I would tell him if I thought something did not work in his scripts, but that is me, I can never shut my mouth. Our relationship began when I was called to go to Hollywood to meet Stallone. It had been my dream as child to receive a telephone call from Hollywood and fly to Los Angeles and then it happened. I went to meet him at one of the studios – and he even had his own building. The appointment was early… I cannot remember when but let’s just say it was 10am. Well, at 11am I was still waiting. Eventually I got told to go into his office and see him. So I get up, enter his office and he was sitting on a sofa, at the far end of the room. He looked like Mussolini and he ordered, “Sit down” and I did. The first thing he told me was “You know everything about me but I know nothing about you. So tell me something.” I thought to myself, “Look at this idiot. Fine, I will play his same game.” I told him some of my credits: “I did Casanova with Fellini”. “Oh really? Who did Donald Sutherland’s makeup?” “That was me”. “And what have you done recently?” “Dune with David Lynch.” “I saw that. I liked the Baron. Who made-up the Baron? “Me. Shall I continue?” “No, that’s enough.”
Were things a little smoother after that first encounter?
Giannetto De Rossi: After this meeting, I thought I had broken the ice with him but actually on set, during the first ten days of Rambo III, he hardly acknowledged me. Immediately after, though, he offered me a job on his next film, Tango & Cash. I initially said yes but then I pulled out, because I had other things and I don’t fixate myself with a famous actor, even if it is Stallone. But he gave me a Rambo special forces pin for my work, and then he called me to do Daylight with him some years later. I said yes to that.
After thirty years in the business, and work on over a hundred pictures, De Rossi’s directorial debut was a sequel to De Angelis’ own picture from the previous year, a rip off of Jaws via Sergio Martino’s Great Alligator. De Rossi’s realization of a whopping, nuclear waste-mutated croc was undoubtedly the high spot of this modest effort, and we get to see much more of it in De Rossi’s maiden effort – almost all of it, in characteristic penny-pinching form for De Angelis, directly recycled footage from the first film! No doubt De Rossi had effectively had a hand in directing that stuff too, so we can concede Killer Crocodile 2 as the FX ace’s picture, while acknowledging that it was put together under such adverse circumstances as to provide little indication of his directorial skills, or lack of them.
During your very long career there was also room for the passage behind the camera. Can you tell us about those directorial experiences?
Giannetto De Rossi: By nature I’ve never been one to back down, that’s why I’ve never fossilized in a genre and I’ve always wanted to try different and difficult things. I’ve always had – and still do – need adrenaline. And it is precisely this need to measure myself with something different, mixed with unconsciousness, that pushed me to go behind the camera. I must say that I am not particularly proud of those films Cy Warrior (1989) and Killer Crocodile 2 (1990), which I also think are rather ugly, but still I will not regret not having tried them. They were a favor I wanted to do to producer Fabrizio De Angelis, who gave me the chance to do Zombi 2. He had a contract and a small budget to make these two films. One day he came to me and asked me if I wanted to direct them and I did. I’ve always been a grateful person. For example, to Raffaella De Laurentiis I owe my international launch with Lynch’s Dune . From that moment on, whatever he proposed to me, I accepted it, out of awareness of him.
Both of these projects were produced by Fabrizio De Angelis, who of course had also been behind Zombie Flesh-Eaters and The Beyond. Do you have any fond memories to share?
Giannetto De Rossi: Fabrizio De Angelis was smart, gifted and possessed a sly intelligence. But I used to call him the cobra. He had his career, and he did what he wanted. It was not the kind of career I saw as focused around a real passion for cinema. His love for the film industry just wasn’t as strong as it maybe should have been.
Did Cy Warrior (1989) and Killer Crocodile 2 (1990) live up to your expectations? In other words, are those the movies you wanted to make?
Giannetto De Rossi: Most important of all, I learned something from them…. I wanted to verify if I could ever be able to direct a movie. I made the monster, a very cheap one, for Crocodile, and then the producer asked me if I wanted to direct the sequel. We had a small crew, an even smaller budget and less than four weeks, which isn’t much. It couldn’t have turned out well, no way …. I was offended by the way I was treated. I wanted to make a serious movie, but the company I signed for didn’t give a shit. The monster itself wasn’t all that bad, but it just couldn’t work with the money they gave us. When I was offered Cy Warrior, Fabrizio De Angelis (the producer) was expecting something else from me. He was trying to sell a film which was completely different from the one I was making. It just couldn’t work…. I’m not going to say that he molested my creativity, because he is usually very good at what he does, but I swear I am never going to work in those conditions again.
You mean there is nothing worth saving from both Cy Warrior and Killer Crocodile II?
Giannetto De Rossi: Well, maybe there is something. But I am very severe with myself, and seldom satisfied with the things I do. Zombie is a good one though, and The Beyond had some very good effects. Fellini’s Casanova is another of the things I did best.
Asterix et Obelix contre Cesar (1999)
The Man in the Iron Mask (1998)
Kull the Conqueror (1997)
Catherine the Great (1995)(TV)
The Inner Circle (1991)
Dr. M (1990)
Killer Crocodile (1989)
Rambo III (1988)
State buoni…se potete (1984)
Conan the Destroyer (1984)
I predatori di Atlantide (Atlantis Inferno) (1983)
La traviata (1983)
Piranha Par Two: The Spawning (1981)
Quella villa accanto al cimitero (The House by the Cemetery) (1981)
E tu vivrai nel terrore-L’aldila (The Beyond a.k.a. Seven Doors of Death) (1981)
Zombi Holocaust (Zombie Holocaust a.k.a. Dr. Butcher M.D.) (1980)
Apocalypse domani (Cannibal Apocalypse a.k.a. Cannibals in the Streets a.k.a. Invasion of the Fleshhunters) (1980)
Zombi 2 (Zombie a.k.a. Zombie Flesh Eaters) (1979)
L’umanoide (The Humanoid) (1979)
King of the Gypsies (1978)
Emanuelle in America (1977)
Il Casanova di Federico Fellini (Fellini’s Casanova) (1976)
Cattivi pensieri (1976)
Non si deve profanare il sonno dei morti (No profanar el sueno de los muertos a.k.a. The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue
a.k.a. Let Sleeping Corpses Lie a.k.a. Don’t Open the Window a.k.a. Do No Speak III of the Dead) (1974)
Mussolini: Ultimo atto (The Last 4 Days)(1974)
Ash Wednesday (1973)
Valdez, il mezzosangue (Chino) (1973)
II prode Anselmo e il suo scudiero (1972)
La piu bella serata della mia vita (1972)
All’onorevole piacciono le donne Nonostante le apparenza…e purche la nazione non lo sappia (The Senator Likes Women) (1972)
The Valachi Papers (1972)
Quando gli uomini armarono la clava e…con le donne fecero din-don (When Men Carried Clubs and Women Played Ding-Dong a.k.a. When Women Played Ding Dong) (1971)
Quando le donne avevano la coda (When Women Had Tails) (1970)
The Invincible Six (1970)
C’era una volta il West (Once Upon a Time in the West) (1968)
The Taming of the Shrew (1967)
Io,io,io…e gli altri (Me, Me, Me…and the Others) (1966)
Svegliati e uccidi (1966)
La donna del lago (The Possessed) (1965)
Cadavere per signora (Corpse for the Lady) (1964)
I maniaci (The Maniacs) (1964)
Obiettivo ragazze (1963)
Le ore della’amore (The Hours of Love) (1963)
Deep Red Alert 02
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