Showing posts with label Dario Argento. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dario Argento. Show all posts

Saturday, October 29, 2022

Ten Days of Terror!: Mother of Tears

Film: Mother of Tears (La Terze Madre)
Format: DVD from Harvard Diggins Library through interlibrary loan on basement television.

It’s probably not a popular thing to say on a blog that spends a lot of time talking about horror movies, but I’m not a huge fan of the style of Italian horror movies. That seems strange to say, because it often feels like style is all that Italian horror movies have. It often seems to me a number of Italian horror movies don’t start with the story or with the plot, but instead with the idea of a couple of scenes that the director wants to get to. Once those scenes are envisioned, the rest of the movie is essentially built around those scenes as best possible to make a semblance of story. This is not always done successfully. And that leads us to Dario Argento’s Mother of Tears (or La Terze Madre, if you prefer).

The sell on Mother of Tears is that it finally finishes Argento’s Three Mothers trilogy, following Suspiria and Inferno. It’s been quite the wait. Suspiria came out in 1977 and Inferno in 1980, with Mother of Tears released in 2007. A three-year gap followed by a 27-year gap suggests that if a fourth film is to be made, it will see the light of day in 21,690 (after all, the second gap is the cube of the first gap, so the next gap should be a cube of the second). Waiting just north of 19,500 years for a fourth installment might just be long enough.

Sunday, February 2, 2020

Stop Bugging Me!

Films: Phenomena
Format: DVD from NetFlix on The New Portable.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I’m not a massive fan of a lot of Italian horror. So much of it turns out to be nonsensical in my opinion. I get the sense in many cases that a lot of Italian horror—Dario Argento’s films as much as anyone else’s—are not written with the plot in mind. Argento seems to write with scenes he wants to film and then writes something that sort of loosely connects them. That seems like the case with Phenomena, a film that has particular plot points that seem like they should be important and then turn out not to be.

So let’s dive into this thing head-first. We’re going to start with a murder—a young woman gets abandoned by a tour bus somewhere in Switzerland, gets attacked, and is beheaded. Eight months later, Jennifer Corvino (Jennifer Connelly) show up in roughly the same area as a new student for that favorite of all Argento tropes, an all-girls school. We’re going to learn three things about Jennifer that are of varying levels of importance based on what you think the movie is going to be about. First, she is the daughter of a famous actor. Second, she frequently walks in her sleep. Third, she has the ability to talk to insects.

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Wednesday Horror: Opera

Film: Opera
Format: DVD from NetFlix on Sue’s Mother’s Day present.

So I think it’s something I can say now officially—I don’t like Italian horror. It’s something I’ve struggled with in the past. There are a few gialli that I like, but even those have issues with not being that coherent all of the time. Films like The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, for instance, are interesting and have some good parts, but even those are movies that I’m not convinced I want to watch again any time soon. Even the really celebrated ones like Suspiria are ones I like for reasons beyond the disjointed plot. So Opera, another Argento film, is one that has gotten a great deal of praise. I gritted my teeth and hoped for the best.

Now that I’ve seen it, I have a new hypothesis about a lot of Italian horror films. I don’t think the plot comes first. I think instead that the director or the screenwriter gets an idea or two for particular scenes that would look really interesting. For Suspiria, for instance, the first death scene, the barbed wire room, and the blocks of primary colors were probably the initial thoughts. For Blood and Black Lace, it was probably the fashion, and shots like the model being drowned. For Opera, it’s probably the ravens and the needles. Once those visuals have been thought of, the director/screenwriter tries to figure out a way to connect all of those different scenes into a narrative. Typically, this is done with…varying results of coherence.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Ten Days of Terror!: Deep Red (Profondo Rosso)

Film: Deep Red (Profondo Rosso)
Format: Internet video on laptop.

My viewing of Deep Red (Profondo Rosso) comes with a number of caveats. The first is that I initially tried to watch it on one of the weird little channels I have access to on the Roku. It was Midnight Movies or Drive-In Classics, or something like that. I actually got through a pretty good portion of it that way, but I found the experience frustrating. On whatever channel that was, the film stopped for commercials every 10 minutes on the dot regardless of what was happening on the screen. Middle of a conversation, right at the moment of someone being killed. Hell, in the middle of a word sometimes. So, eventually, I went to a version I found online which was of lower quality, but was ultimately shown without breaks.

The other caveat here is that Deep Red occurs in multiple versions. The original release is slightly over two hours long, but the American release is about 101 minutes. The excised portions are evidently comedy and romance portions and were never dubbed into English. So, while I may have missed some of the movie, I’m at least convinced that I watched the entire American release of the film.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Ten Days of Terror!: Inferno

Film: Inferno
Format: Streaming video from Hulu+ on laptop.

Dario Argento’s Suspiria is not only thought of as the quintessential Italian horror film, it’s also surprisingly divisive. There are those (like me), who see it as one of the great visions of its decade within the genre and those who, not without reason, find it kind of silly. Inferno, Argento’s film from 1980, builds on much of the world created in Suspiria, and at the very least is its visual sister. In a real sense, Inferno is the middle film of a trilogy starting with Suspiria and concluding with The Mother of Tears, which Argento made within the last decade.

Sad to say, this is also lesser than Suspiria for a number of reasons. Primary in this is that the plot is a lot more opaque than in the first film. Here, we appear to be introduced to people specifically so that Argento can have them killed off, admittedly in inventive ways some of the time. Still, there are multiple characters who exist here just long enough for us to get a name before someone stabs them or does something else nasty to them. More or less, Inferno is an excuse for Argento to kill off a bunch of people in a variety of inventive ways and to show us some gore without worrying too much about such niceties as a story that makes a lot of sense.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Giallo

Film: L’uccello dalle Piume di Cristallo (The Bird with the Crystal Plumage)
Format: DVD from NetFlix on kick-ass portable DVD player.

See enough movies, and eventually, you see something from pretty much every genre. I’m not terribly familiar with the giallo style, despite having seen a few. I know the basics, but I can’t really tell you what is derivative versus original in the style because I’ve only seen those few. It’s an interesting style, though. With gialli, it’s all about murder and sex, even if the sex isn’t explicit. The more lurid the sex and the more awful the crimes, the better. All of this led me to L’uccello dalle Piume di Cristallo (The Bird with the Crystal Plumage), the first film from Italian stylist Dario Argento.

Like most gialli, the film plays with our expectations of what we think is going to happen and with twists at the end. This is pretty standard fare for the genre as I understand it. I wasn’t caught terribly off guard by the twist, even though it’s a good (if standard) one. Part of this may well be Argento’s novice status behind the camera at the time, which may also account for the relatively linear plot. The twist, in fact, feels a little forced, like it was put there because the audiences expects it in the genre, not specifically because it will make the movie better or more interesting. So the good news here is that the film is interesting almost in spite of its simplicity.

An American writer named Sam (Tony Musante) is in Italy where he had hoped to become inspired to write. It hasn’t panned out for him, though, so he’s all set to return to the States with his girlfriend Julia (Suzy Kendall) when he witnesses an attempted murder in an art gallery. A woman named Monica Ranieri (Eva Renzi), who happens to be the wife of the gallery owner, Alberto Renzi (Umberto Raho), is stabbed by a gloved and trenchcoated figure. Sam sees the attack but doesn’t get much of a look at the attacker, and the woman lives. Unfortunately for Sam, he’s now a bit of a suspect, and is forced to hand over his passport. And it turns out that there have been several such murders recently, leading the police to believe that they have a serial killer on their hands.

It soon becomes evident that Sam is not guilty, though, when new suspects turn up. Additionally, Sam gets a disturbing phone call from the apparent killer, a call that he manages to get on tape. His passport is returned by Inspector Morosini (Enrico Maria Salerno). Sam decides to stay on for a few more days since his lease isn’t quite up to see if he can aid in the investigation in any way. Slowly, clues come to him, as do increased threats. And throughout the film, he tries to remember the attack on Monica as clearly as he can, with replays changing slightly as the film continues. Eventually, there is a showdown, and then a twist in which Sam faces down the actual threat and (of course) all seems lost.

For a simplistic plot and some strange dubbing and voice work, L’ucello dalle Piume di Cristallo is surprisingly engaging. There are some excellent moments in the film that are surprising and work extremely well. For instance, when it becomes evident that Sam and Julia are targets of the killer, they are given a police escort who tails them at a given distance. In one scene, Sam and Julia are walking down the street with their escort behind them. Suddenly, a car approaches and with no warning, simply runs down the cop escort, which leads to a pretty good chase sequence through the streets of Rome. It was sudden and disturbing because of how quickly it happened, and it still works like a charm.

It also indicates to me that Dario Argento has always had a thing for creepy, disturbing soundtracks. This one seems to consist of moments of people singing “La la la” over and over in a way that doesn’t quite sound like vocals, but sort of does. When it’s not that, it’s more or less the sound of women in the heat of sexual passion. It doesn’t hold a candle to the Goblin soundtrack for Suspiria, but it’s still pretty weird and fun, and I rather liked it in spite of myself.

I’ve no doubt that there are other gialli worth my time and attention out there, but it would not surprise me if someone who really knew the genre told me that this one ranked as one of the better ones. The plot is a bit too simple, but still engaging. The characters act in logical ways that don’t leave me scratching my head as to their motivation. And I like the strange sexual tension that seems to exist in at least a few of the killings. There’s definitely more going on under the surface than we are allowed to see, so I appreciate the fact that the film is quite a bit deeper than it lets on at the start.

As a final note, a film that is this influential deserves a decent DVD copy. The transfer is good, but the DVD itself is punishing. There's no menu, no subtitles (and no ability to watch in Italian with subtitles) and no options or extras. The film deserves better treatment. Someone tell Criterion.

Why to watch L’uccello dalle Piume di Cristallo: A surprisingly effective thriller, even after 40+ years.
Why not to watch: Is it too much to ask for a decent DVD version?

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Make Room for Satan!

Films: Rosemary’s Baby, Suspiria
Format: DVDs from personal collection on laptop.

It’s October, which is uniquely associated with horror. This, naturally, is because of the presence of Halloween at the tail end. Well, Halloween happens to be my birthday, and it’s been awhile since I’ve had a good scare. That being the case, I’m going to look at some scary stuff today. I’m in that kind of a mood.


Roman Polanski is, or at least was at one point in his career, associated with horror of a sort. Repulsion, which I viewed earlier this year, is a slow descent into madness—an existential horror. This was the first in a loose trilogy of films recounting the horrors of living in the city, and of the three, the most believable. His second is Rosemary’s Baby, famous for any number of reasons, and most of them warranted. The third film in the trilogy is The Tenant, and while plenty weird, is the weakest of the three.

But let’s talk about Rosemary’s Baby, shall we? We have a delightful young couple named Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse (Mia Farrow and John Cassavetes) apartment shopping. The find a nicely furnished place in an old New York building (shown to them by character actor Elisha Cook, Jr.), and Rosemary falls in love with it. The price is high, but Guy, who works as an actor, thinks they can handle it, and the two move out of their old place and into the new one. However, before they go, their former landlord Hutch (Maurice Evans) warns them that their new building has something of a morbid history, the most gruesome being a former tenant named Adrian Marcato. Yes, that will be important.

Once in the apartment, Guy throws himself into his work, in part to afford the new place. Rosemary is lonely; we discover that she married the Jewish/Protestant Guy against the wishes of her Catholic parents. While she does have friends, she is alone much of the time, and soon strikes up an acquaintance with Terry (Victoria Vetri). Terry is a former addict rescued by the Castevets, who live on the same floor as the Woodhouses.

Shortly after their first meeting, though, things go south for Terry in a big way. She is discovered having committed suicide by leaping from the seventh floor of the building. Her guardians, Roman (Sidney Blackmer) and Minnie Castevet (Ruth Gordon), now bring the Woodhouses into their lives and quickly become surrogate parents for the young couple. Shortly thereafter, Guy’s career gets a huge boost when his main rival for an important role is suddenly struck blind. He throws himself into his work even more, further isolating Rosemary. Despite this, the couple decide that they are ready to start a family. On the night they plan to start, Mrs. Castevet gives them a chocolate mousse (which she pronounces as “mouse”), which may well have something wrong with it. We’re certainly led to believe that it might be drugged. This is presaged by some strange chanting the couple here early in their tenancy.

What follows is one of the two most famous sequences from the film. Rosemary finds herself at the center of what appears to be a Satanic ritual, and disturbingly, she is the real attraction. Essentially, this is a supernatural rape scene, and Guy is not the rapist. Instead, the man in the center of the ring is the Prince of Darkness himself. She thinks it might be a dream, and she awakens with scratches, which Guy attributes to himself being a little wild the night before while she was passed out.

Shortly after this sequence, delusional or not (and despite her protesting), Rosemary discovers that she is pregnant. And everything in her world starts to fall apart. Much like in Repulsion before it and The Tenant after it, paranoia becomes the watchword. Rosemary begins to suspect that her delusion of being raped by Satan is not so much a delusion, but a fact. Things start happening around her and to her. She loses weight and is stricken by terrible pains. The doctor everyone tells her to see, Dr. Sapirstein (Ralph Bellamy) prescribes bizarre treatments. She becomes more and more convinced that everyone in the building is a Satan worshipper, and even begins to suspect her husband. This is reinforced by the fact as the film continues, Rosemary looks more and more like she is wasting away.

While the initial set-up of the film is good, it really takes off after the rape sequence. Before this, especially in the opening, it’s a domestic drama. It might just as well be about Rosemary’s boredom and seeking a soulmate, looking in the apartment for someone to have an affair with. But slowly edges into weird, and then takes that hard left turn, and it never comes back. Rosemary slips in and out of paranoid delusions, and as the film continues, we’re led to believe that they aren’t so much delusions or altered reality as they are evidence that her world has slipped entirely into another, much darker and despairing reality. It’s no coincidence that Rosemary’s severe haircut happens just when she begins to feel more vulnerable; it’s almost as if she’s lost a piece of the armor that protects her.

Mia Farrow is also the perfect choice for the role, despite not being originally desired for the part. In this film, particularly with that little haircut, she is elfin and tiny, and always looks so frail and ready to snap. Her perceived frailty is just another thing for the audience to worry about as her paranoia deepens.

Say what you’d like about Polanski. The man can direct a hell of a film. Chinatown might be my personal favorite of his, but Rosemary’s Baby is in many ways a more effective (and affecting) film. What’s most impressive about it is that it so effectively scares the hell out of the audience without showing a single thing, other than a few flashes during the rape. We never get to see the baby, and so we never learn which of several possibilities is the reality. Instead, we only learn Rosemary’s reality. It’s genius.


On the other end of the scare spectrum is Dario Argento’s Suspiria. Where Polanski holds back everything from our vision and leaves the scare entirely in our minds, Argento gives us blood, guts, and some of the most creative murders ever filmed, and these are shown from stem to stern, with nothing left to the imagination. Often, it seems like filmmakers show us the blood and guts when they don’t trust themselves to do a good enough job of scaring us without it. That doesn’t seem to be the case with Argento, who uses it to push the scares over the edge into true creepsville.

I can vaguely remember this film coming out. Vaguely in the sense that I remember seeing a trailer for it on television. The trailer shows a woman from the back in a luridly colored sweater brushing her hair as a lullaby plays. Then the figure turns around, and we see that it’s a skeleton with luxurious black hair. Weird. Totally Argento. That trailer always intrigued me, but I forgot about the film for a long time until I came across it while Internet surfing. That intrigued me even more, and I hunted it down. While I was interested because of that memory of the trailer, it was hearing that Argento’s goal was to make a film that looked like a horror film made by Walt Disney. That I had to see.

The story takes place in Germany, although that’s not terribly important—it’s just sort of vaguely Europe-y. Our heroine, Suzy Bannion (Jessica Harper, who is very Karen Allen-y) is a young dancer, who has chosen to come to Europe to an exclusive conservatory of dance. She arrives late at night and during a rainstorm just as another girl is leaving. This girl is Pat Hingle (Eva Axen, who looks nothing like Pat Hingle, the actor), and she’s leaving because the conservatory has expelled her. She’s convinced that something terrible is happening at the school, but she lives long enough only to tell (and doom) a friend. Pat is killed in one of the most gruesome screen deaths I’ve ever seen. She is attacked through a window, repeatedly stabbed, and then a rope is thrown around her neck. Her body is then placed on a stained glass skylight. She breaks through, and when her body falls, the rope tightens around her neck, finishing the job. Her friend, meanwhile, is diced by the falling shards of stained glass.

Mysterious and terrible happenings continue at the school. Suzy suffers a swooning spell after a servant at the school bewitches her, and that night, all of the girls are attacked by a horde of maggots falling from the ceiling. The next day, the school’s blind piano player’s dog attacks a child and the pianist is released. That night, the dog attacks him brutally, killing him.

Following this, Suzy and her friend Sara (Stefania Casini) begin to investigate the school, but still under the spell, Suzy cannot awaken at night. Sara goes on her own and gets her own brutal death involving a room filled with razor wire, and yes, this is exactly as brutal as you’re imagining, and Argento shows it in gruesome detail. Her disappearance is simply explained away, leaving Suzy on her own to discover the terrible secret of the school.

Originally, Argento conceived of this film as taking place in a school for young girls, but realized (or was told) that with the brutality contained within, no one would release or show it. The killings are horrific, and seeing this done to children would immediately squash any distribution. So he changed the ages of the girls, but changed nothing else. What that means is that much of the dialogue appears geared for pre-teens, and listening to the girls bicker with each other like junior high school kids requires a mental leap. Argento also rearranged the set so that things like doorknobs were set higher, making the girls appear smaller, and more childlike. Additionally, the film is shot with huge blocks of primary and secondary colors. There are huge blocks of blue, red, and green light. Everything is hyper-colorized. The blood looks not like blood, but a thick, red syrup, almost like strawberry ice cream topping or unset Jell-O. It creates a strange non-reality for the film that, to me, adds to the experience even as it makes the film less scary. It’s unsettling and disturbing, though.

The most frightening part of the film is the soundtrack created by Italian prog-rock band Goblin. At times childish, like a music box, at other times the soundtrack pounds with a demonic intensity with wild drums and howling, incoherent vocals. This, almost as much as the bizarre and unsettling visuals, is the driving force behind the film. Listen for yourself—this is the international trailer for the film, and it features Goblin’s work: Suspiria International trailer(This is not safe for kids or those with tender tummies.)

Suspiria is an aggressive film. The shots are intended to be visually unsettling, and they are. A few minutes into the film, there is really no safe harbor for the audience because the world constantly skews further and further away from typical reality. Because of this, there is a haunted quality here, but not a romantic one. There’s nothing romantic about this film. Argento’s demons and witches are hungry ones, rampant, aggressive, and terrible, and stop at nothing to get what they want, both on screen and from the audience watching.

While not the scariest film I’ve seen, or even the most disturbing of this year, Suspiria is absolutely worth watching. There is no other film like it, and few that went this far to be visually innovative. That, and the soundtrack, is what will haunt you, not the action on the screen.

Why to watch Rosemary’s Baby: Terrifyingly scary and showing virtually nothing.
Why not to watch: It’s nightmare fuel.

Why to watch Suspiria: Horror, Disney-style.
Why not to watch: The characters don’t always fit the dialogue.