THE SCORPION WITH TWO TAILS (1982)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*

Several online reviews call Sergio Martino's SCORPION WITH TWO TAILS a "giallo," as if it were homologous with most of the sex-and-violence thrillers in that mold-- not least Martino's similarly titled 1971 opus, THE CASE OF THE SCORPION'S TAIL But the only thing the two movies have in common is that the scorpions in each title are eccentric pieces of jewelry. Thus, the ornaments in both movie function only as theoretical gateways to those who crafted them.

Originally the 1982 SCORPION, scripted by Ernesto Gastaldi and three other contributors, was intended to appear on Italian television as a mini-series. This is certainly the reason that too many subplots with little pay-off appear in this film of just a little over ninety minutes. But whatever final form the planned mini-series would have taken, the film that resulted is less a giallo than an occult mystery. Some giallos depend on a main character regaining some buried trauma. But SCORPION is structured like a Greek amamnesis, in that the heroine discovers that she shares a kinship with archaic Etruscan deities.

Joan Barnard (Elvire Audray) remains in America while her husband Arthur works an archeological dig in the land of the long-vanished Etruscans. Joan has two confidantes in her life, though both are somewhat opposed to her marriage with Arthur: her wealthy father (Van Johnson), who believes Arthur married Joan for her inheritance, and Mike, who never actually makes a pass but plainly has a thing for Joan. But Arthur's fortunes initially seem to be looking up, for he uncovers evidence of a buried tomb. He phones Joan to arrange getting more money to complete the dig.

Moments before Arthur's call reaches Joan, she falls asleep and experiences a peculiar dream. She beholds Arthur entering a cavern, where underground vapors rise from an abyss and a veiled woman stands near an altar. Arthur confronts the woman, but from behind him two feminine-looking arms entrap him from behind and twist his neck all the way around. Joan's awakened by the phone and speaks with Arthur for a few minutes. However, Arthur is then killed by an intruder who murders him the same way he was slain in the dream, except that the two arms twisting his head around look like those of a man.

Naturally, Joan wants answers as to the manner of Arthur's death, so with Mike in tow, she travels to Italy. She meets with various natives, particularly Contessa Volumna (Marilu Tolo), and a female colleague of Arthur's, Heather (Wandisa Guida), but none of them can throw any light upon the murder. Then she seeks out the dig-site, and meets two strangers, an old man and a young gypsy-girl, both of whom address Joan with a goddess-like monicker, "the granter of gifts." Joan has a waking vision in which she sees maggots pour out of a statue, and moments later, someone finds a dead body: that of Heather's driver, with his neck twisted around like Arthur's.

So like regular giallos, there is a mystery killer, but the script is far more concerned with portraying Joan's strange connection with the Etruscan tomb, despite her never having been in Italy before. She meets the strange old man again, and among other things he makes a recondite remark about how hard it is to know the designs of the ancient gods. The script then devotes considerable time to a crate of artifacts that Arthur was supposed to ship to America, and in time Joan learns that the crate was meant for her father, because there was heroin concealed therein. The father shows up in Italy, wanting to find the missing merchandise for his displeased customers, and it comes out that both Heather and Volumnia are mixed up in the drug-smuggling.  

The main problem with all these mundane crime-subplots is that, even though they also feel like elements of a giallo with detective elements, the smugglers and their plans are a side-issue, as is shown when competing drug-dealers attack an expedition descending into the tomb, killing Arthur's two female colleagues and Joan's father. Then Joan, who has continued to have weird visions throughout, seemingly beseeches the gods to slay the tomb's profaners-- and sure enough, the walls fall in, killing the gangsters but not Joan.

In the last thirty minutes, Joan learns that she's a dead ringer for a portrait of Kaere, an Etruscan high priestess who lived thousands of years ago. In the end, Joan is essentially taken over by the spirit of Kaere, and one of her unwitting male companions tries to help her stay grounded. But he too has profane intentions, and divine justice has the last word.

In the end, if SCORPION is judged a failure-- and indeed, Martino himself did not speak well of the project-- it's not because it has too little transgressive sex and violence, like a standard giallo. It's because Joan is a superficial character and her contact with ancient spirits doesn't represent either personal growth or devolution. While the icon of a scorpion with two tails doesn't really symbolize anything important in the story proper, SCORPION does suffer for having "two tales," one giallo and one occult mystery, that get in one another's way and keep the whole "animal" from prospering.