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Tony Kendall with Hannelore Auer, his favorite co-star from the series, in KILL, PANTHER, KILL!


waiting fortune but Elizabeth as well, which he does by murdering Robert at Expo ’67 in the Swiss Sky Ride and trading identities with the dead man. At the crime scene, Tom has his trademark “Oh, no!” moment when he discovers his old pal Jo Walker also on the scene, hired by an insurance com- pany to secure the stolen loot. This time out, Jo is assisted by an admiring and sexy associate, Betty Rogers (Hannelore Auer—Tony Kendall’s favorite female co-star from the series), though he is prin- cipally on the make for “Robert’s” nurse Emily Lambert (the unfortunately named Corny Collins). For a change, the “three blue panthers” do not refer to a criminal organization but rather to a statue whose base contains a note pointing the way to where the jewels are hidden. On this production, some new blood was in- troduced to the production team by Ralph Zucker, an expatriate American producer and actor who had previously produced and acted in BLOODY PIT OF HORROR (1964) and directed the English version of TERROR CREATURES FROM THE GRAVE (1965), both in association with Massimo Pupillo. Despite some persistent rough edges, KILL, PANTHER, KILL (whose title echoes that of Erika Blanc’s Mario Bava film KILL, BABY... KILL!,


1966) is the most fully developed of Parolini’s con- tributions to the series. It benefits from an unusu- ally linear, clear-cut script, solid casting, strikingly atmospheric photography and the winning cen- tral presence of Blanc, whose doll-like beauty com- mands the camera like no other woman in the franchise—which is saying a lot. Between this and his previous Kommissar X film, Parolini had directed Tony Kendall and Brad Harris in another madcap adventure much-beloved by camp enthusiasts, THE THREE FANTASTIC SUPERMEN (I fantastici 3 $upermen, 1967), which put them and silent third-wheel Aldo Canti in capes and tights. It seems to be the film that galvanized their working chemistry because Kendall and Harris are now completely comfortable in their roles, which have seasoned in interesting ways. Kendall’s Jo Walker is now a contemporary ver- sion of Homer’s take on Hercules, an Alpha Male who almost incidentally performs acts of heroism between predominant acts of sloth, while Harris’ Tom Rowland, the one with the real Hercules phy- sique, can’t understand why he’s not getting all the girls—thereby also functioning as an Everyman audience surrogate. (It’s all so obvi- ous! Why didn’t they figure out this dynamic from


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