A grim, if nicely shot, Italian/Spanish giallo filmed in Australia, featuring a couple of Hollywood stars of a certain vintage and lots of dodgy post-synch dubbing.
Loosely based on a real Australian murder case from the 1930s (though set when it was made, in the mid ’70s), the film consists of two stories told in parallel, one a murder mystery, one a melodrama. How or indeed whether these narratives connect is not made at all clear until late in the film and while this is an adventurous stylistic move from director Flavio Mogherini, it does lead to a muddled feel.
The murder mystery follows the discovery of the mutilated body of a young woman in yellow pyjamas. The victim can’t be identified and the body is put on public display in the hope that witnesses will come forward. Ray Milland leads impressively as a grumpy old-school cop brought out of retirement to help with the case. The melodramatic narrative is a psycho-sexual drama played out over a few years, following the restless, unhappy Glenda, sympathetically portrayed by Dalila Di Lazzaro, through a tangle of affairs including a lovesick waiter (Michele Placido) and a wealthy middle aged amoral lothario (Mel Ferrer).
At times the film feels like a construction of contradictions. The characters are universally unlikeable but the principal cast is excellent. One plot point in particular – the idea of the police putting the victim’s preserved body on public display in a glass case – could read as fetishistic sensationalism, yet it actually happened during the original investigation. Then there’s Riz Ortolani’s pseudo-disco electronic score, highlighted by two songs performed in a lightweight Nico-meets-Grace Jones style by Amanda Lear, Look at Her Dancing and Your Yellow Pyjama. They’re either awful or brilliant, I can’t make up my mind (also, note the use there of “pyjama” as a singular noun – for strictly disco purposes, obviously). One even scores the opening scene of the body being discovered; it’s quite bizarre.
With its handsome cinematography, ambitious structure and a plaintive quality rooted in its real-life origins, I expect I’ll revisit The Pyjama Girl Case at some point. This time round I watched the Salvation widescreen VHS which I picked up for a couple of quid online. Luckily I didn’t pay too much attention to the cover image before watching the film as it’s actually a huge spoiler, so beware of that if seeking the tape out.