With The Girl Who Knew Too Much, director Mario Bava planted the seed that would evolve into the sub-genre known as the giallo. In fairness, it doesn't much resemble the films that would typify this genre in the 70's. Bava's next film Blood and Black Lace would truly be the definitive template film that would inform the giallo. But there is no doubting that some of the recurring motives and ideas of this most Italian film genre began here.

As the title suggests, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is indebted to Alfred Hitchcock more than anything else. The idea of an innocent thrust into the middle of a deadly situation is one Hitchcock used many times. While the romantic sub-plot and moments of light comedy also recall his work. These latter two elements are mainly what mark out TGWKTM as a cross-over film, as they are certainly not features of giallo cinema as it would develop. But the light, comic approach is one of the things that make this one of the most playful and upbeat films that Mario Bava ever made. Unlike his three other gialli, this film actually has sympathetic characters. While it doesn't have the melodramatic tendencies that those ensemble movies had either. The approach is much more restrained, with a fairly simple amateur sleuth narrative being the framework. Completely different too is the black and white aesthetic. Bava is of course rightfully famous for his masterful use of colour but in this film he shows that his use of light and contrast is just as impressive. This is a very handsome looking movie. Letícia Román adds to this aesthetic too of course, seeing as she is a very beautiful woman. Visually, this is a terrific film. Story-wise, it's certainly less interesting. The fairly mechanical plot is sufficient enough in taking us from A to B but it isn't particularly memorable. But it does introduce some of the motives that would go on to form an important part of giallo cinema such as the convoluted mystery, the bizarre reasoning for murder and the importance of optical subjectivity as well as the focus on style over substance.

The Girl Who Knew Too Much is a film that should be seen by fans of Mario Bava as well as dedicated students of all things giallo. It's a film that is as breezy and light as the genre ever got. It's a lovely and beautiful looking flick from a master film-maker.

This Bava film (whose title is clearly a nod to Alfred Hitchcock), credited with being the first giallo, was also one I could have watched earlier – having long considered picking up the now-OOP Image DVD, not to mention via a DivX copy I've owned for some time – but thought it best to wait for this definitive edition (complete with a Tim Lucas Audio Commentary).

Anyway, I don't know whether it's because I preceded it with Riccardo Freda's delirious and luridly-colored THE GHOST (1963) or the fact that the film retains an incongruous light touch (and leisurely pace) throughout – including the heroine's ruse to ensnare her stalker by the unlikely methods adopted in the pulp thrillers she avidly reads – but, while I enjoyed it a good deal, it felt to me like an altogether minor work from the maestro! Similarly, the murder sequences – a stylized highlight of later giallos – are pretty mild here. Still, Bava's consistent virtues – as a director – for creating tremendous suspense and the fantastic lighting and crisp cinematography that come with his intimate knowledge of the camera are well in evidence.

The first half-hour is pretty busy plot-wise, as all sorts of things happen to the charming leading lady (the striking-looking Leticia Roman, daughter of Oscar-winning costume designer Vittorio Nino Novarese): first she gets involved with a drug-dealer, then the old woman she was to live with dies on her, after which she roams outside in a frenzied state to be held up by a small-time crook and witness a knife-murder across Rome's famous Piazza di Spagna! Her disoriented frame-of-mind is effectively rendered by Bava through simple expedients, such as distorting lenses and focus-pulling. Incidentally, the foreigner-investigating-a-series-of-murders-in-Italy plot line prefigures such notable Dario Argento films as THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE (1970) and DEEP RED (1975). Interestingly, since there was no yardstick for the genre as yet, Bava relied on such familiar film noir trappings as first-person narration to push the story forward.

The film also features a young John Saxon in his first of many "Euro-Cult" outings as Roman's boyfriend and Valentina Cortese as her wealthy, eccentric landlady; the script provides plenty of suspects, but the final revelation comes as a surprise (though, in hindsight, it seems pretty obvious) – and this is followed by a lengthy explanation of the motive behind the killings, which became a standard 'curtain' for this type of thriller. There's an amusing final gag involving a packet of cigarettes and a priest, while Adriano Celentano's catchy pop song "Furore" serves as a motif during the course of the film.

Additional footage was prepared for the U.S. version (snippets of which are present in the accompanying trailer), while the title was changed to THE EVIL EYE and Roberto Nicolosi's score replaced with that of Les Baxter (as had already proved to be the case with Bava's BLACK Sunday [1960])! It would have been nice to have had this cut of the film (which is said to stress the comedy even more) included for the sake of comparison – and it had actually been part of the original announcement for "The Mario Bava Collection Vol. 1", along with the similar AIP variants for BLACK Sunday itself and BLACK SABBATH (1963), but these were subsequently retracted! Incidentally, I now regret not renting the alternate version of THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH on DVD-R while I was in Hollywood – but, back then, I wanted first to watch the film as the director intended.

In John Saxon's otherwise entertaining interview on the Anchor Bay DVD (in which he recounts his experience working on this film and other stuff he made during his tenure in Italy), he erroneously mentions that he worked with director Lucio Fulci – whose name he even mispronounces as Luciano! Despite there being a considerable amount of dead air throughout Tim Lucas' Audio Commentary, it does a wonderful job at detailing the film's background – plus offering his own take on events: it does prove enlightening on several aspects of the film I had initially overlooked, such as how the costumes were carefully chosen to define character or the impressive contribution given by Dante di Paolo (George Clooney's uncle!) as the dour journalist investigating the murder spree. Surprisingly, Lucas also mentions that some of Bava's camera moves are more elaborate and graceful as seen in THE EVIL EYE (which makes me want to see it even more!) – but, then, important dialogue stretches heard in the Italian original involving the creepily asexual voice of the killer were bafflingly left out of the American version!!