Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (1972)

Oliviero is a burned-out writer, living at his estate near Venice, his dead mother dominating his imagination. He is also a degenerate: sleeps with his maid and his ex-student, hosts Bacchanalia for local hippies, and humiliates his wife Irina in front of strangers. She lives in terror. When a young woman is murdered, police suspect Oliviero. Things get complicated when his young, beautiful, and self-confident niece, Floriana, pays an unexpected visit. A silver-haired stranger observes. More women die, and thoughts of harming Irina give Oliviero new inspiration. What's Floriana's game and who's the observant stranger? Watching all is a black cat named Satan.

Possessing what could be the second-best title in film history (after 1963's "The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies," of course), "Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key" (1972) reunites director Sergio Martino and stars Edwige Fenech and Ivan Rassimov, who had previously collaborated on such wonderful films as "The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh" (1970) and "All the Colors of the Dark" (1972). (Indeed, this film's title was copped from a line of dialogue in "Mrs. Wardh"). This time around, though, the story mainly concerns a decadent writer, Oliviero, well played by Luigi Pistilli, who spends most of his days drinking booze and abusing his wife (giallo regular Anita Strindberg) both physically and emotionally. While a wave of murders sweeps through their small town, Oliviero's niece pays a visit, and so we finally get to see our Edwige, a full 1/2 hour into the picture. Gorgeous as always, Edwige here sports a short-haired bob for a change but looks smashing still. Anyway, truth to tell, I had no idea where this picture was going for at least the first hour. The film concludes very neatly, though, with some nifty surprises, and always keeps the viewer intrigued by combining a truly decadent atmosphere with bits of Poe's "The Black Cat," echoes of Clouzot's "Diabolique" (1955), some jolting murders, soft-core lesbianism and, typical for gialli, some red herrings.