
Dillinger Is Dead
Marco Ferreri’s 1969 Italian drama follows Glauco — a gas-mask designer played by Michel Piccoli — over one night in his Milan apartment. He cooks, watches films, cleans a revolver found in a 1934 newspaper, seduces the maid, rehearses suicide, and finally kills his sleeping wife before fleeing to Tahiti as a yacht chef. Shot by Mario Vulpiani with clinical detachment and scored sparingly by Teo Usuelli, the film treats bourgeois comfort as a sealed, suffocating environment. It is arthouse cinema at its most austere: refusing psychology, satire, or resolution, it renders alienation not as theme but as physical law.















































