File 3 . Gateway for the Dead : Art and Madness in Jörg Jäger’s Lost Films

1974 - Broken Body of an Angel ‘Corpo Spezzato dell’Angelo ’- dir: Sergio Strazzi 

The film’s most infamous scene unfolds in a single, uninterrupted shot. 

The camera glides through a dark hallway and into an unlit living room. It explores the empty space, searching, before finally finding a woman’s face. She’s crouched, hiding behind a large sofa, wide-eyed and visibly shaking. Somewhere offscreen, a door creaks open.

With virtuoso confidence the camera begins to drift left, revealing a brightly lit doorway at the back of the room. Creating a dark, menacing silhouette - a man stands silently in the doorframe. The camera creeps towards him. He begins to raise the strange object he's been holding by his side.

As it comes fully into view, the macabre reality becomes clear. Matted hair between his fingers. Ripped and torn flesh. The pale outline of a gaunt face. 

A mangled, severed head fills the screen.

The shot holds. Its eyes flick open. Slowly, its mouth contorts into a frozen, silent scream.

"I remember James (Ferman) pausing the playback on that frame and declaring to the room, ‘All of this has to be cut.’ Only minutes earlier, he’d been praising the beautiful camerawork - but now he was clearly annoyed. That was a common reaction. That film upset a lot of people in the organisation."

– Jean Wilkins, BBFC editor

Broken Body of an Angel (Corpo Spezzato dell’Angelo) was released in the winter of 1974. It was director Sergio Strazzi’s fourth film and his first giallo. Although popular with audiences, it achieved only modest success at the Italian box office, fitting comfortably into the steady stream of lurid murder mysteries that had filled Italy’s working-class cinemas over the previous five years. The film was well-received by the local press, with particular praise for its complex and subversive themes. An inventive and solid thriller - though not necessarily a classic.

Ten years later, it would resurface in the UK under very different circumstances. On May 18th, 1984, the front page of the Daily Mail screamed in giant letters: “BAN THESE SICKO NASTIES!” Bowing to mounting media pressure, the British government was preparing to categorise 73 films as obscene - making it illegal to own a copy of any of them.

Beneath the headline was a grainy photo showing a pile of the shabby “video nasty” cassettes. Wedged between the garish boxes of Cannibal Holocaust and Killer Nun was a handwritten sleeve marked Body of an Angel.

The film had been submitted to the British Board of Film Classification (BBFC) twice - first in 1975, then again in 1978. Both times, it was cut so drastically that the distributor pulled the submission entirely. There is no evidence that a single copy was ever sold in the UK. Why was it on the banned list?

“Angel? That’s the holy grail of nasties. Piss poor Danish bootlegs started doing the rounds in the early ’90s - but a UK release in the ’80s? I never saw one. One lad swore he saw a copy in a Dudley corner shop, but nothing ever turned up.”

– David G. black market VHS dealer

Sergio Strazzi was born in 1942. His working class childhood in Calabria wasn’t particularly eventful. He initially aspired to be a painter, but in 1959 a chance job building a film set opened up a new career path. Highly artistic and technically gifted, he quickly rose through the ranks to become a cinematographer, earning a reputation as a skilled craftsman in the Peplum (sword-and-sandal) genre.

In 1968, he directed his first film: the low-budget spy thriller Caccia all'Uomo (Manhunt). This was followed by two well-received neorealist dramas, Il Codice Nero (The Black Code) and La Primavera Arriva (Spring Is Coming), which cemented his status as a bold new voice in socially aware cinema. After joining the anarchy-aligned art collective Arte Libera in ’72, Sergio set out to make his next project subversive and politically charged.

The original script for Corpo Spezzato dell’Angelo was a straightforward poliziotteschi cop thriller. Strazzi was drawn to the core idea - a killer targeting a cabal of rich industrialists - but he liked little else. Italy at the time was a boiling pot of political and criminal corruption. He wanted to go further - to explore the concept of justice in a lawless, selfish society.

“I was young, and I was angry. The Angel rewrite poured out of me – I knew it was my best work. It was passionate, straight from the heart.

I was also stupid. I picked a fight with the people ruining my country.”

– Sergio Strazzi, 1997 interview

Broken Body of an Angel (Corpo Spezzato dell’Angelo) is a beautifully crafted film. Now completely rebuilt and remastered by L’Immagine Introvata, watching it today feels like a revelation. Finally free from the bootleg VHS purgatory where it languished for 40 years, it unfolds into a sleek widescreen experience. Confident and stylish, it’s as bold as Dario Argento and as bloody as Lucio Fulci - a cynical satire smashed together with a downbeat, savage giallo.

Strazzi repeatedly surprises us with brave tonal shifts that feel out of step with giallo clichés. It’s a genuinely refreshing experience – and at times, a challenging one. Giannetto De Rossi’s gore FX are as mean-spirited as ever. While no longer cutting edge, they still carry a disturbing, queasy quality, lingering unflinchingly on graphic scenes of dismemberment.

Yet the FX aren’t the most shocking aspect of the film. The protagonist isn’t the cop, shambolically trailing a killer around the city – it’s the killer himself. Fabio Montecarlo’s portrayal of the downtrodden antihero is compelling. We spend much of the film following him as he stalks and studies his prey. Slowly, we come to understand his pain, and the twisted logic that drives him. The death of his daughter – the “angel” – being the tragic catalyst that pushes him over the edge.

His victims are truly vile: a collection of corrupt executives and politicians. Sometimes exaggerated, even cartoonish – all modeled on real elite figures in Italian society. While these characters may seem unrecognisable to modern audiences, their impact in 1974 cannot be overstated. Even today, few filmmakers would dare to depict the murder of recognisable public figures.

Unlike the typical giallo, where the audience is meant to identify with the beautiful woman in danger, here we feel little sympathy for the men being hunted. It places the viewer in a strange position, unsure of their own moral compass. In many cases, we want them to die – and die horribly.

“The Italian audience loved the killer. I was surprised - and a little scared. I hadn’t intended him to be a hero - he’s a vicious, sadistic murderer. I simply wanted to ask the question: what happens when no one stands up for the poor man? What happens when he breaks ”

– Sergio Strazzi, 1997 interview

The film still holds undeniable power. It reflects a decade in turmoil and a country falling apart - it feels resonant and modern, as if nothing has changed. It’s provocative and unsettling, yet fearless and inventive: art as a mirror to society. An angry voice speaking for the forgotten and abused. 

It’s the perfect example of a ‘lost classic’ - though ‘buried treasure’ might be more accurate.

Angel had serious problems. The initial wave of positivity in Italy had suddenly ground to a halt. It was now a ‘problem’ film. Germany issued an outright ban in 1976. Spain, Greece, and France followed in 1977. In the U.S., it briefly surfaced in a heavily cut form in 1978 - then vanished. Across Europe, governments banned it or censors butchered it. Distributors backed away. Gradually, the film faded into obscurity.

After Angel’s release, Sergio found it hard to fund new projects. He drifted through the ’70s picking up TV work. It was eight years before his next and final theatrical release – 1982’s La Febbre della Morte (Death Fever) – a rather muted contribution to the Italian zombie trend.

In early 1985 a friend sent him the Nasties list, surprised to see Sergio’s lost film on it.

“I was shocked. Ten years earlier I thought I'd made a cursed film. I let it die and moved on. Its reappearance was mystifying.”

– Sergio Strazzi, 1989 interview

We can’t say why it was on the list – but we do know how it got there. 

In summer 1984, Member of Parliament Graham Wright was suddenly all over UK television. He was personally going to rid Britain of these ‘obscene nasties’ corrupting the hearts and minds of young children. A short, mediocre backbench MP of little note, he’d never even appeared on national TV until that January year. Then, overnight, he was everywhere. He drafted the original UK nasties list.

Similar characters popped up across Europe in the early ’80s – self appointed moral defenders battling a degenerate, corrupt society, all waving around the same lists. Censorship and media watchdog groups had existed since the ’50s, but they'd mostly been fringe outfits. Now their ideology was back, rebranded as a serious political movement.

“A wave of censorship hit Europe and the US in the early ’80s. Promoted as a moral crusade to ‘save society’, it was clearly a backlash against the progressive explosion in the arts during the previous two decades. A small group of politicians rewrote laws across Europe, Asia, and America – always using the same campaign strategies. In many cases, literally using the same language and terminology.”

– Steven Harris, Social Studies Professor, Warwick University

Almost none of these politicians began their careers as moral guardians. Most didn’t enter parliament promoting those kinds of ideologies. They all ‘saw the light’ - and suddenly became Christian, family-oriented cultural caretakers. 

These were heavily funded politicians with access to respectable social studies. Recent investigations reveal huge undisclosed donations, shady corporate alliances and manipulated social data scattered throughout the history of this movement.

Their objectives were aligned as well. Across the world, specific groups of artists, musicians, writers, films, and organisations were demonised and prohibited. Progressive and alternative artistic perspectives were repeatedly reframed as ‘evil, satanic, degenerate, and perverted’.

It was a witch hunt planned with military precision. We now know Broken Body of an Angel was directly targeted and removed from circulation. The film has been found on multiple internal ban lists across Europe.

Sergio Strazzi did not know this. And he never understood why his film was so persecuted. He died in 1999, not bitter, only puzzled and pragmatic about his failed experiment. 

So today, 40 years later, we have access to all the “nasties.” Fully uncut, and beautifully restored. Society hasn’t collapsed. We haven’t turned into evil satanists. In fact, they now feel almost quaint and archaic compared to the corporate forces actually doing real damage.

The real tragedy was the impact on the artists. Sergio Strazzi’s career was clearly stalled by the film’s brutal mistreatment. How many others were damaged by these moral crusades?

This story still leaves us with so many unanswered questions – why was Broken Body of an Angel such a threat? Why was creative media targeted like this? Why did so many governments across the world suddenly adopt the same damaging ideology? 

There is a lot more to explore around this topic. We will revisit it soon. 

The 4K remaster of Angel will be released later this year.