Some films flicker briefly at the edges of memory, like half-recalled nightmares. They weren't blockbusters plastered on every billboard, nor did they achieve the notoriety of midnight movie mainstays. They exist instead in that strange twilight zone of cinema, often discovered years later on a dusty VHS tape with cryptic cover art, promising something… different. Gianfranco Giagni’s 1981 oddity, Trickster, is precisely that kind of film – a disorienting descent into ambiguity that feels less like a traditional narrative and more like a fever dream committed to celluloid.
### A Puzzle Box of Unease
Forget straightforward plots or clear character motivations. Trickster throws you headfirst into a disquieting scenario involving two young men, Tim (Tommy Mock) and Gary (Tom Schanley), who find themselves entangled with an unnerving, wealthy older woman, Serena (Eve Brenner), in her secluded, decaying mansion. What unfolds is less a story and more a series of increasingly bizarre, psychologically charged encounters. The film deliberately obfuscates intention and reality, leaving the viewer adrift in a sea of strange games, simmering tensions, and unsettling power dynamics. Is it supernatural? Psychological manipulation? Something else entirely? The film offers few easy answers, preferring to dwell in the uncomfortable space of the unknown.
Gianfranco Giagni, who would later gain more recognition for the genuinely creepy Spider Labyrinth (1988), demonstrates an early interest here in atmosphere over linear storytelling. Shot on what appears to be a shoestring budget, Trickster leverages its limitations, using the shadowy corners of the mansion and the isolated setting to build a palpable sense of claustrophobia and decay. The production design, though sparse, contributes effectively to the feeling that Tim and Gary have stumbled into a place outside of normal time and consequence. It feels less like a meticulously crafted set and more like a genuinely unsettling, found location, adding a layer of verisimilitude to the strangeness.
### Echoes in the Static
Performances in low-budget genre films from this era can be a mixed bag, and Trickster is no exception. Tommy Mock and Tom Schanley (who later appeared in shows like Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman) bring a certain youthful uncertainty to their roles, effectively conveying the feeling of being caught in Serena’s web. However, it's Eve Brenner as Serena who anchors the film's peculiar energy. Her performance is theatrical, almost operatic at times, portraying Serena as both seductive and deeply menacing – a figure who seems to embody the decaying grandeur and hidden dangers of the house itself. Is she merely eccentric, or something far more sinister? Brenner keeps you guessing, her enigmatic presence dominating every scene she’s in.
Finding concrete behind-the-scenes details on a film this obscure is like chasing ghosts. Trickster vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, a footnote even within the bustling Italian genre cinema of the early 80s. Its obscurity is, perhaps, part of its strange allure now. Was it intended as a straightforward thriller that lost its way, or was this elliptical, dreamlike quality the goal all along? Without extensive production notes or interviews, we're left piecing things together from the flickering images on screen. It feels like a lost transmission, a cinematic enigma waiting to be rediscovered by those digging through the digital crates or, more fittingly, the back shelves of a long-gone video store. I distinctly remember seeing its elusive cover art once or twice back in the day, always skipping over it for something more recognizable, but the unsettling imagery lingered. Doesn't that masked figure on some versions of the poster still feel oddly disturbing?
### The Lingering Chill
Trickster is not a film for everyone. If you demand clear narratives, tidy resolutions, or conventional horror tropes, you'll likely find it frustratingly opaque. Its pacing is deliberate, sometimes meandering, and its logic is fluid, bordering on nonexistent. Yet, for viewers attuned to mood and atmosphere, there's a certain hypnotic quality to its strangeness. It evokes the feeling of being trapped in someone else’s unsettling dream, where the rules are constantly shifting, and escape seems increasingly unlikely. The score, often minimalistic and dissonant, enhances this feeling, underscoring the psychological tension rather than relying on jump scares.
It doesn’t deliver conventional thrills, but it excels at creating a persistent sense of unease. It’s the kind of film that might leave you feeling slightly off-kilter, pondering its ambiguities long after the credits roll – assuming you can even find a copy to watch. Its very rarity contributes to its mystique, making it a genuine deep cut for enthusiasts of bizarre 80s cinema.
Rating: 5/10
Justification: Trickster earns points for its genuinely unsettling atmosphere, Eve Brenner's committedly strange performance, and its status as a fascinatingly obscure piece of early 80s Italian genre filmmaking. Director Gianfranco Giagni certainly establishes a mood. However, its narrative incoherence, sometimes sluggish pacing, and extremely low budget prevent it from being a fully satisfying experience. It often feels more like a series of unsettling vignettes than a cohesive film. It's a curiosity, best appreciated by patient viewers looking for mood over plot.
Final Thought: Trickster remains a phantom of the VHS era – elusive, ambiguous, and strangely compelling in its refusal to play by conventional rules. It's a testament to a time when even the most obscure, low-budget efforts could leave a faint, unsettling echo in the cinematic landscape.