Amid other liquids, one practically can smell the dribbles of J&B through the screen of The Sister of Ursula, a title that tells you nothing and means only slightly more. It refers to Dagmar Beyne (Stefania D’Amario, Zombie), who’s not quite the main character, yet neither is her sibling, Ursula (Barbara Magnolfi, Suspiria). In fact, no character is developed properly enough to emerge as the lead.
Searching for their estranged mother after their father’s death, the two stop at a seaside hotel in Italy with majestic views and vistas and nightclub singer Stella Shining (Yvonne Harlow). Despite such amenities, Dagmar doesn’t want to stay: “Terrible things are going to happen,” she says. “I see blood.” She’s so certain that she herself will be murdered — not the most ideal of travel companions.
Terrible things do happen, to both the viewer and to the movie’s slutty female characters. Members of the latter group are slain by a killer in requisite black gloves, offed by a … well, a rather unique tool, let’s say. I won’t spoil it, but the shadow knows. The first to go is a prostitute who plies her trade underneath a decidedly unsexy Donald Duck poster.
Promiscuity reigns in this sleazy little thriller by writer/director Enzo Milioni, and each time people go at it, they do so to the tune of the same sax-fueled ballad of the damned. It’s meant to signal sexy, Pavlovian-style, yet is so overused, it will have an opposite effect on viewers. Milioni expended all his energy on these scenes, to the detriment of everything else. Unless you’re just looking for skin, there’s nothing to see here, folks; please move along. —Rod Lott