An archeologist defiles a tomb in Egypt and lasers blind him. At the same time, his daughter Susie is given an ancient amulet by an old lady who promptly vanishes before her eyes. The family returns to New York City while the father (Christopher Connelly) recovers his eyesight. The weird happenings begin almost immediately, but I’m not sure the happenings are weird enough for fans of director Lucio Fulci. Egyptian eye-seeking lasers would be pretty wacky in most movies, but in a Fulci film they’re kinda tame.
Having made more than sixty films, even the most diehard Fulci fans can be forgiven for skipping Manhattan Baby. I’m a weirdo who eats, sleeps, and breathes this kind of weird shit; I’ve bought at least two editions of The Beyond; I’ve raved about The New York Ripper, City of the Living Dead, and even A Cat in the Brain on this very blog. Yet even I don’t remember hearing about this one until it appeared on streaming services several years ago. Nor have I felt a pressing need to watch it.
None of this is to say Manhattan Baby is a bad movie. Purveyors of elevated horror will probably hate it, casual moviegoers will probably laugh at it. But if you’re subscribed to this blog, I think it’s safe to say you’ll find roughly as much enjoyment as I did. Which isn’t a lot of enjoyment, but it’s enough. Again, the only thing hampering it is you simply expect more from Fulci. He’s uncharacteristically restrained here, even as victims fall into spike traps and stuffed birds come back to life to rip a man’s face to shreds.
On the other hand, I find Fabio Frizzi’s upbeat score as nostalgic as summer break, the cinematography is solid, and the acting feels stronger than in most of the director’s films. You also get creative imagery involving scorpions and cobras. I particularly liked it when the camera takes the point of view of a snake and slithers, absurdly, across the floor. It’s exactly the kind of flourish I would have attempted when I was a kid, making Evil Dead rip-offs on a hand-me-down camcorder.
The gore, when it’s there, is a solid three. I’m only docking it a point because there’s too little of it. Don’t sleep on it if you’re a Fulci completionist, but I’d save it for a rainy day if I were you.
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