Following a successful heist, a jewel thief is murdered on a train. His no-nonsense stripper daughter Nicole (knockout Nieves Navarro who we’ve seen in Death Walks at Midnight among many others) is gathered up by the police who are hoping she knows where her now deceased father stashed the diamonds. She’s unable to assist. Agitated cops are one thing but the masked man with striking blue eyes and voice box who breaks into her apartment and threatens her because he too is after them pesky diamonds is a more dangerous beast. She seeks comfort and protection in the company of her boyfriend Michel (Simón Andreu, whose fiendishly handsome ass we’ve seen in The Killer is One of 13, Death Carrie’s a Cane and others) but after discovering some contact lenses in his bathroom, thinks he may be a dangerous man to be around. What’s a stripper to do? Go to the horny married doctor who has been hitting on her after being captivated by her less than enjoyable acts, of course! She asks Dr. Robert Matthews (Frank Wolff who would sadly kill himself around this film’s release but if you’re here you may just recognize from The Wasp Woman and Beast from Haunted Cave) to journey with her to London and, he being an idiot with a medical degree and a boner, agrees. They stay in a cottage at a small seaside village populated with super suspicious locals. While there she poses as the doctor’s wife. The masked man follows close behind and bad things start happening. Looks like the romantic cottage getaway with the unhappily married man is going down the shitter with fatal results. Who is the madman? Where are the diamonds? Who is peeping on Nicole? Why is she so proud of her pancake butt? Is that priest also using a voice box? What the hell is with this small village? Why is a mysterious woman paying Nicole a shit-ton of cash? Can you really trust a French stripper? Holy shit! Did he just get shot?! We’ll get answers to all the important questions, except the pancake butt thing. Scotland Yard will get involved and the doctor’s wife Vanessa (dude has Claudie Lange at home and still ain’t happy, what a chooch) will also come into play. Nicole performs one of the worst strip routines I’ve ever seen and it’s not just because it’s racist to all hell. Although. That doesn’t help anything. She then follows that up with another routine that is fortunately not racist thanks to her not rocking a wig and slathering her body in bronzer but sucks all the same. But, despite her questionable talents in her line of work, Nicole is breathtakingly beautiful, so I completely understand the appeal. As a woman, she’s fantastic. As a stripper, there’s a lot she needs to work on. But what do I know? I’ve never been to a Paris strip club in the early seventies, so I could be off the mark completely. She also seductively eats fish with her greasy fingers which is not a thing and even her royal hotness cannot make look like a thing. Although it may not have been fish and been a bowl of fruit but it followed so quickly behind the doctor making a big deal about buying fresh fish that my distracted brain couldn’t help but connect them. Still. Ewwwwww. It’s an odd film without feeling like it’s trying to be and the same can be said for the other giallos I’ve seen from Luciano Ercoli. They may take a bit to get going but they’re filled with enough quirk to make me happy to take the long path to the more exploitive portions. There’s some genuine surprises along the way, one cheap yet effective butchering, out of place comedy adding to the charm and the title refers to the only thing a blind witness can offer up the cops.
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