Film

The New York Ripper

Name: The New York Ripper
Genre: Horror, Crime, Thriller, Mystery
Released: 1982
Cast: Jack Hedley, Almanta Suska, Howard Ross, Andrea Occhipinti, Alexandra Delli Colli

Lucio Fulci's 1982 giallo-thriller transplants Italian horror sensibilities to New York's seedier underbelly. A burnt-out cop and a psychoanalyst hunt a brutally inventive serial killer through neon-soaked streets. It's visceral, misogynistic in ways that feel deliberate rather than accidental, and operating entirely on mood and shock rather than narrative logic. For fans of sleaze who value atmosphere over restraint.

TMDb rating

3.1

Should you watch it?

Watch it if you love Italian giallo at its most lurid and unhinged, where a killer's obscene phone calls and oddball set pieces matter more than a tidy solution.

Skip it if you need logic and tight plotting, since the investigation wanders and the rules of the mystery feel loose, and the violence is relentless and often misogynistic.

What it asks of you: Its 93 minutes move in uneven lurches, with stretches of talk and dreamlike drift punctured by sudden, graphic violence that is hard to shrug off.

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If you liked this

Dressed to Kill1980

De Palma's slick psychosexual thriller about a killer and a psychiatrist. Same obsessions as Ripper—fractured psychology, beautiful victims, voyeurism—but made with Hollywood polish and narrative precision.

But If you want restraint and subtlety. This is arch and operatic; it wears its Hitchcock fascination on its sleeve.

Possession1981

Andrzej Żuławski's fever-dream of a film: a collapsing marriage, a tentacled creature, pure unhinged atmosphere. Like Ripper, it's more interested in dread and transgression than plot coherence. Utterly committed to its madness.

But It's genuinely alienating. Long, repetitive, with dialogue that circles obsessively. Patience required; rewards not guaranteed.

Don't Look Now1973

Nicolas Roeg's masterpiece of paranoia and premonition. A couple in Venice hunted by something they don't understand. Suspense built from mood and suggestion rather than explanation, with a final twist that rewrites everything.

But It's methodical to the point of glacial. If you need plot momentum, this will feel like drowning in slow motion.

Not sure tonight? Get a pick in a minute, starting from The New York Ripper

The wildcard

Something you would not have found on your own.

The Case of the Scorpion's Tail1971

Both are giallos obsessed with corruption and surface beauty masking rot. Tarantino and Fulci inherited this language; this is where it was perfected.

Tarantino's admitted touchstone: Sergio Martino's earlier giallo masterpiece. A woman hires a private detective to investigate a murder. It does everything Ripper attempts—the twist, the style, the transgressive sexuality—but with sharper plotting and genuine elegance.

But Italian film from the era means dubbing and a print quality that can feel distant. That distance is part of its charm but not for everyone.

The Long Good Friday1980

Bob Hoskins at his most terrifying, playing a London gangster whose empire collapses in a single night. Crime procedural crossed with character study. Taut, intelligent, genuinely dark about how power unravels.

But British restraint throughout. No gore or sensationalism. If you're here for the viscera, you'll be disappointed.

Cruising1980

Friedkin's provocative, deeply uneasy thriller about an undercover cop infiltrating NYC's gay underground to catch a killer. Controversial for reasons that still land. Seedy, paranoid, genuinely transgressive in its ambitions.

But It skates close to exploitation and received massive backlash on release for its treatment of gay culture. Some of that criticism holds weight.

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie1976

Cassavetes' nocturnal Los Angeles nightmare. A strip-club owner gets tangled with criminals. Handheld, improvisational, reeking of neon and desperation. Mood supersedes plot; atmosphere is the entire point.

But Plotless, abrupt, with deliberately ugly cinematography. If clarity matters, stay away. This is pure character-suffocation.

Maniac1980

William Lustig's unflinching serial-killer portrait. Joe Spinell as a deeply deranged man. Raw, explicit, entirely committed to its grimy New York setting and its protagonist's fractured perspective. Uncompromising horror.

But Graphically violent and misogynistic. The film's perspective never quite condemns its lead. Not provocative—just bleak and exhausting.

Psycho II1983

Richard Franklin's underrated sequel takes Norman Bates seriously as a character. Twisty and smart in ways sequels rarely are, with genuine suspense and an appreciation for what made the first film tick.

But It exists in the shadow of a masterpiece and never escapes it. Competent isn't transcendent; you'll feel that gap.

Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer1986

John McNaughton's brutal, unflinching documentary-style portrait of a man and his crimes. Shot like a true-crime film. Refuses to sensationalize while remaining utterly unsparing about what it shows.

But Bleak, grinding, and deliberately unwatchable at points. It isn't fun or thrilling—it's an endurance test disguised as cinema.

Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer poster

Deep Red1975

Argento's giallo is the ancestor Fulci was channeling; Deep Red shows what the form could achieve when directed by someone with no interest in restraint or coherence.

Dario Argento's masterpiece giallo: a pianist witnesses a murder and spirals into investigation. Visually sumptuous, wildly imaginative in its setpieces, operatic in its violence. Proof that the genre reached genuine artistic heights.

But It's a giallo, so the plot is deliberately convoluted nonsense. If you need logic, look elsewhere. Also: Goblin's score is intrusive to the point of domination.