Mario Bava’s influential giallo A Bay of Blood (1971) in many ways sets the slasher mold, while still towering over many of its imitators through its dark humor and wacky cast of characters. After the mysterious death of a wealthy countess, both inhabitants and locals become potential suspects in this stylish but brutal whodunit.

Among the players at the titular bay are the schmoozy real estate agent and his lover/secretary, an entomologist and his tarot card-reading wife, a gang of “teenagers” clearly played by adults, a resentful groundskeeper, and a scheming couple who emerge from their trailer to claim the land as their own.

Between the visitors frolicking along the shores, the locals minding their own business, and the opportunists seeking to claim the territory, the plot grows ever-convoluted. The vast character count and names become impossible to keep track of, shedding any obligation to follow the plot and instead just enjoy the joy ride.

The stilted, unnatural dialogue and biting cruelty of the players give A Bay of Blood a memorable personality where other filmmakers would have made a lifeless slasher. Bava here injects character and intrigue, where scenes of pure expository exchanges and plot information are enjoyably heightened to the max. The outlandish tarot card-reader, who foresees the horrors reaching the bay, is a comic high point, whose look is complete with dark eyeliner, bangle bracelets, and a solemn temperament as she warns of what’s to come. Most of the other characters are preposterously, irredeemably evil, whose biting remarks and ruthless nature are equally funny.

In addition to the characters and performances, the humor is also conveyed formally through its editing and music. An early scene of the secretary at home bidding her lover farewell, abruptly cuts to the shore, a close-up of the groundskeeper gnawing at a fish. Moments later, the countess’s scheming stepdaughter enters the frame, accompanied by the flare of an electric guitar, instantly signaling her evil. Shortly after that introduction, a joyful cha-cha-cha beat plays as a jeep of young adults rolls into town and they frolic about, oblivious of the violent fate awaiting them at the bay. The musical score by Stelvio Cipriani (in his first collaboration with Bava) feels at home with the mid-century bongos and moody rhythms of Carlo Rustichelli’s score for Blood and Black Lace, shifting between an ominous lounge sound, to dreamy string orchestrations.

As usual, Mario Bava’s cinematography is visually rich, in terms of the image, with deep in shadows and full of color, as well as its composition, framing gloved hands at the scene of the crime, or an unseen observer stalking their victims-ot-be. The camera serves the mystery narratively, controlling what’s in view, while filling the frame with colorful saturation and a pulpy excess.

Taking place in the contemporary 1970s in the woods and cabins lining the shores, the setting doesn’t quite reach the fantastical heights of the castle of Black Sunday or the mid-century fashion atelier of Blood and Black Lace, but its playful energy and stylistic pulse make A Bay of Blood another strong point in Bava’s horror-splattered filmography.