Like the sour and salty odour of Parmesan, this film reminds you that not every Italian horror film is as serious as Il Demonio. Instead, the Embalmer embraces you like a melted Tellagio and a warm Cacio (with Pepe, of course). We have a killer who alternates between dressing up as a skull faced monk and dressing up as a scuba diving serial killer! This film takes place in Venice (hence: the killer using scuba gear to snare his victims), and although the kills are spread across the film like Bel Paese over a nice Panini, there are patches of the film where my mind was wandering, which caused a jerk reaction like that of the olfactory sensation of sniffing a particularly ripe Cambazola.
For the most part though the film is like cutting into a Calzone and seeing the contents ooze out. Loads of Mozzarella cheese, basically. From the Italian-Elvis clone bursting from a sarcophagus and singing an Italian-Elvis Clone song to the killer having a severe case of expositionitus, this film is like eating a sandwich which consists of a sharp Provolone with Parma Ham - High notes mixed with dull, Earthy plodding plot.
The milky Fontina element comes from the bad dubbing, the gratuitous touring of Venice (including a glass blowing shop!) and the bad acting. The pecorino like goodness comes from the surprisingly high body count and the fact that the killer is really the guy you though immediately was the killer.
It's kind of sweet (like Marscopone and Ricotta) that the film does try to give you some red herrings, but the film is not the best in terms of what Italian 1965 horror has to offer, kind of like Goronzola, you wouldn't pick it first if someone served you a plate of bad analogies.
This might come as a surprise, but I used to sell Italian cheese. Now I just watch it.