Hatchet for the Honeymoon (1970)

Hatchet for the Honeymoon (1970)

“A woman should live only until her wedding night — love once, and then die.”

A psychotically ill wedding dress designer (Stephen Forsyth) married to a shrew (Laura Betti) murders young brides while attempting to resolve childhood traumas. Meanwhile, an inspector (Jesus Puente) trails the case while a beautiful new model (Dagmar Lassandar) expresses romantic interest in Forsyth.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Henpecked Husbands
  • Horror Films
  • Mario Bava Films
  • Mental Illness
  • Serial Killers

Mario Bava directed this atmospheric psycho-thriller film which begins by revealing the identity of the killer (the protagonist/narrator himself):

and builds tension by exploring how he will eventually be found out. As with so many Bava films, atmosphere is far more important than plot, and one watches primarily for the visuals — but it’s hard to ignore the awkwardly earnest performances, the dubbing, and the sappy musical soundtrack. Things finally become more interesting once the tables are turned and we know Forsyth will soon be caught — which is ultimately for the best of everyone involved, including troubled Forsythe himself.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Atmospheric cinematography and sets

Must See?
No, though of course Bava fans will want to check it out.


3 thoughts on “Hatchet for the Honeymoon (1970)

  1. ⭐️⭐️⭐️ out of ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

    An enjoyable and unusual Italian Giallo and as you say it looks a peach. I think it better than you do but it’s far from the best in the genre. See Argento’s Deep Red (1975) or The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970) or even Bava’s Blood and Black Lace (1964).

  2. First viewing. Skip it.

    Typical Bava garbage which – even on its own terms – is something probably unintended: ponderous.

    The protagonist (as narrator) tells us he’s a paranoiac when there’s no indication of that and, instead, he shows himself to be more of a garden variety psychopath (with a bit of sociopath thrown in; he makes love to mannequins – gee; kinky). But anywho…

    I’m admittedly not a fan of giallos. The ones I’ve seen tend to quickly become formulaic. In this particular entry, there’s little going on – nevertheless, Bava stretches what’s there to a point where it could snap from inertia.

    ~ until a clumsily developed supernatural element takes over. (Well, *something* had to, I suppose.)

    There’s lots of tedious talk (dialogue is not a strong point in giallos) and, in one major and unintentionally funny murder sequence, the killer is dressed as a bride. Um… why? But then… who cares?

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