
You know, it’s funny, but glancing over at my current top ten film discoveries of the year list over at Letterboxd, I can say with absolute clarity that The Double is not as great a film as probably any of them. And yet, I’ll be hard pressed to find a film that I love more this year than this hypnotic and trippy Italian film from director Romolo Guerrieri. I’ve long wanted to see this rarity so I am thrilled that Radiance has made it available as an excellent special edition Blu-ray, filled with essential extras. I adored every frame of this Eurocult arthouse classic and am glad I held off suffering through a subpar grey-market copy.
If a stranger asked me what kind of film I love the most, I could hand them a copy of The Double and it’d suffice as an answer. This film is filled with one moment after another that scratches a very specific itch I have, that only films from Europe in this period can scratch. Like there is a moment in The Double where a still photograph of Lucia Bosé appears on screen. Within seconds, the corner begins to burn leaving the impression the film screen itself is on fire. Suddenly, another edit and we find lead Jean Sorel holding the burning photo flanked in front of a fire behind him. My description doesn’t do this jaw-dropping sequence justice but it is just one example of The Double’s main strength (of many), namely the editing by Mario Bava regular Carlo Reali.
The Double has an intriguing plot, kind of a neo-noirish giallo-like setup but the script from Sandro Continenza and Sauro Scavolini is its least interesting aspect. In its original book form, I am sure the basic narrative is far more valuable but The Double as a film is, to my eyes, essentially a sensory exercise. From the dynamically strange editing to Guerrieri’s rather languid but forceful direction, The Double’s plot drifts from memory as if just a dream while its most evocative imagery continues to haunt.
Romolo Guerrieri was around forty years old when he directed The Double. He began as an assistant director in the fifties, before eventually graduating to the lead director’s chair a decade later. After making a few Italian westerns, Guerrieri hit influential gold with The Sweet Body of Deborah (1968), a massively important film in the popularization of the Giallo in Italy and beyond. On the basis on The Double, along with his earlier hit, Guerrieri seems primed for a high profile career behind the camera. Sadly, Guerrieri’s career never equaled his many more popular peers, with just a couple of titles appearing after 1980.
Along with the unforgettable direction and editing, The Double features sumptuously sunny cinematography by no less than Fellini DP, Carlo Carlini. Add on Armando Trovajoli and you have the stuff of Eurocult dreams. I found The Double an overwhelmingly seductive experience, so much so that the film’s fairly few faults fell easily to the wayside for me.
As great as The Double is stylistically, the film’s cast really transforms it into an absolute classic, to my eyes. One of my favorites, Ewa Aulin, appears giving one of her most interesting performances. Sorel and Bosé are also extremely memorable, although I do wish Marilù Tolo’s role was more substantial. Regardless, The Double’s cast is the equal to the film’s breathtakingly weird design.
Radiance’s Blu-ray features two heavyhitters offering thoughts on the film, in the shape of Tim Lucas’ commentary and Stephen Thrower’s interview. Both of these talks add much to my appreciation of the film and the people who made it. Also, on had are fairly recent interviews with director Romolo Guerrieri and star Ewa Aulin. It is always so thrilling to see interviews with Ewa, so this was a special watch. Finally an excellent print essay is also included by Nathaniel Thompson, rounding out this terrific package. Watching The Double made me feel like I was a kid in a cinematic candy shop. A huge recomendation. Order now directly from Radiance or MVD, here in the States.
-Jeremy Richey, July 2026-

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