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Hatchet for the Honeymoon doesn’t behave like other gialli. This Italian-Spanish movie does something unconventional at the beginning; the identity of the killer is revealed to the audience. It goes against tradition to spoil the mystery so early, but after feeling restrained while working under producer Dino De Laurentiis only a year earlier, director Mario Bava sought a fresh start in 1968. This almost forgotten movie was that creative reset, though it wouldn’t be until years later that everyone better appreciated this late entry in Bava’s unique oeuvre.

After taking a meat cleaver (not a hatchet, mind you) to a young bride and groom on a moving train, Stephen Forsyth’s character introduces himself. Not only is he a “madman, a dangerous murderer,” 30-year-old John Harrington is the movie’s protagonist. “I am a paranoiac,” he narrates during his morning rituals. From there John confesses to killing five brides and hiding their bodies, all in an attempt to uncover the truth about his repressed childhood trauma. Now, while it would appear writer Santiago Moncada and Bava have stripped the mystery from their story, John himself is as intriguing, if not more so, than a standard whodunit plot.

John’s scathing wife Mildred, a role Bava especially made for Laura Betti, is then introduced. She shows no affection for her husband, and the feeling is mutual. Mildred lords her money over John, brings up his failings as a lover, and to make matters worse, she refuses to give John a divorce. Instead, Mildred is more keen on making John’s life as miserable as she feels. Betti delivers a memorable performance that cuts into the supposed suavity and sureness of Forsyth’s character. She plays the second greatest foil to John — the first being his own conscience — and she does it with flair.

Bava’s exceptional photography skills fill the movie, though his eye is sharpest whenever John adjourns to his secret and macabre lair. In a hidden and sizable room at John’s bride-wear factory sits a collection of creepy mannequins, all dressed in wedding attire. Euphoria and eeriness harmonize as John gingerly caresses his many inanimate “brides,” fingers the very same cleaver used in his past and future crimes, and lures unsuspecting women to their death. These private moments in John’s Bluebeard-esque hideaway also demonstrate the director’s sense of humor. Hatchet trades one self-indulgence for another when transitioning from John’s room to Mildred’s ridiculous séance. And in another instance of nearly missed drollness, a visual gag about burning toast follows John’s disposal of a model inside the factory’s incinerator. This movie was more strapped than others that Bava helmed, but it was rich in both visuals and wit.

There is a debate about whether or not Hatchet for the Honeymoon is a legitimate giallo. Above all it doesn’t hide the killer’s identity. However, it’s obvious Bava didn’t want to follow the same routine as before. Never one to play by the exact rules of the genre anyway, Bava is even bolder here. He makes the movie all about the villain as beautiful and empty as his mannequins, providing an absorbing, intimate study of Forsyth’s unhinged character. The story probes the darkest recesses of John’s mind and manifests his madness. It’s unsurprising to learn what made John homicidal, but Bava doesn’t ease up in his examination. On the contrary, he steps on the gas after John has followed through on what’s been telegraphed since Mildred first appeared.

With Mildred dead — Bava channeled Psycho when John dons a wedding veil during the slaying — Hatchet for the Honeymoon presents another element that challenges its place among orthodox gialli. The supernatural was teased earlier when Mildred conducted a séance, hinting at what’s to come next in the story. Rather than reaching out to the great beyond to speak to his loved one, though, John is haunted by Mildred’s ghost. At first only everyone else can see Mildred, begging the question if this is all a massive ruse to expose John. The closing scene, on the other hand, is Bava leaving us with an ambiguous parting gift; Mildred is now only visible to John. The supernatural wasn’t common in giallo movies, but Bava is nebulous with the concept. There’s no confirmation that everything, along with seeing his own childhood self everywhere, is the work of John’s guilty conscience, or it’s really something uncanny.

Hatchet for the Honeymoon wasn’t a smooth production. On top of being underfunded, there was tension on set. Forsyth handed in what’s been deemed the best performance of his career, despite receiving no actual direction from Bava. And co-star Dagmar Lassander was not pleased with Laura Betti being given the more significant role. The movie was then unceremoniously dumped into theaters in 1970. After ample panning and neglect for most its life, though, Hatchet enjoyed a favorable turnaround much like all of Bava’s output. The movie stands out due to its nonconforming and perverse story, but the director’s unique style makes everything even more savory.

Regarding the more recent subgenre of charismatic yet deeply disturbed men, Hatchet for the Honeymoon was as prophetic as it was darkly poetic. This shadowing of a handsome and undetected killer predates the likes of American Psycho, but don’t let its age fool you. This movie is as twisted and unsparing as its modern descendants.

Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.