I love me a good parody, and Eric Jackowitz’s short film The Seeing Eye Dog Who Saw Too Much is a great one. The film presents itself as recently discovered “lost” scraps of the 1975 Italian giallo Cane Guida Assassino, supposedly shot by Enrico Januzzi.
The film features a blind violinist, Anne (Gabrielle Montes De Oca), who was just selected as first chair in the Rome Symphony by the Maestro (Ethan Edenburg) solely on her talent. As the pair are about to make love, Anne’s solo fills the air. Who is playing this music? The Maestro searches for the source, and just as he discovers who’s behind it, the Maestro is murdered and decapitated.
When the police are at the crime scene, there is no usable evidence to find the killer. To Anne’s dismay, the only witness to the Maestro’s murder is her seeing-eye dog. Anne must find the killer to keep her life and career from collapsing into chaos.
“To Anne’s dismay, the only witness to Maestro’s murder is her seeing eye dog.”
Parody is one of my favorite forms of comedy, and The Seeing Eye Dog Who Saw Too Much absolutely nails it. It’s the kind of parody that works because it’s made by someone who clearly worships the genre.
Since coming to Film Threat, I’ve had the chance to watch ’70s Italian thrillers about women in jail and women traveling the Italian countryside, only to stumble upon a sex and death cult. Writer/director Eric Jackowitz nails every element of the Giallo (old-school Italian murder mystery). First, there’s the grainy film of the “recovered” scenes and the ’70s production values. Then comes the bad dubbing: English-on-English. Then there’s the matter-of-fact dialogue, “I made you first chair, now let’s have sex.”
Once these elements are perfect, we have a story that just slowly spins out of control by the end. In the end, Jackowitz delivers a pitch-perfect send-up where every absurd detail feels intentionally yet expertly wrong.
By the time the end hits and you’re wiping your eyes from laughter, The Seeing Eye Dog Who Saw Too Much has done the real magic: it’s not just funny, but an uncanny homage to what it’s spoofing. Eric Jackowitz proves that the best parodies don’t mock from a distance—they come from genuine love, sharp craft, and the freedom to get weird.
"…I made you first chair, now let's have sex."
