Suspiria

SUSPIRIA

(1977)

Dir - Dario Argento

Overall: GREAT

The finest Italian horror film of all time both defines many of the tropes of European genre cinema for its era while also forgoing thematic analysis.  Suspiria is not so much a movie that is "about" something as much as it is simply a movie for movie's sake.  It is a visceral experience that exists wholly within the realm of the cinematic, something where sound and visuals entwine in perfect harmony to create ninety-eight minutes of vibrant nightmare fuel.  There is a story going on in Suspiria of course, but as is the case with much Italian cinema from the 1970s, the story is in service to what it sounds and looks like.  Conventionally speaking, movies work the other way around, where a story is present and then decisions are made in how to tell that story.  For Dario Argento and his crew, this was likely no different in conception, but the results consistently eschew standard narrative immersion in place of a purely cinematic immersion.

 

This was Argento's sixth feature from behind the lens in nearly as many years, Dario having been born into the movie-making industry as his father was a producer and his mother a fashion designer.  Of course much has been said about how much of an Alfred Hitchcock fan Argento was and is, and one only needs to take a cursory glance at any of his film's to see the influence of the Master of Suspense.  So as a movie fan who came up in the industry, it makes sense that Argento's work is always designed in a way where things like logic and plot are secondary to the film's overall aesthetic.  These are movies made by someone who loves movies, crafting them in a way where they work as sensory experiences to be seen in glorious detail on a big screen and with a bitching sound system where the audio and the visuals hold sway.  There is no movie in Argento's filmography where this is more paramount, (and relentlessly so), than Suspiria.

 

"Relentless" being a key word.

After casting her as the co-lead in his previous film Deep Red, Argento and actor/screenwriter Daria Nicolodi became a couple and in turn collaborated on the follow-up.  It has been said that Nicolodi was responsible for pushing Argento into supernatural horror and away from the giallo which he had helped popularize and had much success with, and while there may be credence to this claim, Argento was at a point where a change in genre was welcome anyway.  After his Animal Trilogy of giallos opened his career, he had already tried to movie away from such material with the 1973 comedy The Five Days, a film that failed at the box office and quickly made him return to the giallo with his tail between his legs.  Thankfully he one-upped himself with that giallo, Deep Red being arguably the best of them and a high watermark for the filmmaker.  The stage was therefor set, either to continue staying in his lane with another black-gloved Italian slasher, or to try again and pivot into material that he had yet to cover.

 

Enter Nicolodi's influence where the resulting Suspiria combined her fascination with fairy tales and an alleged anecdote from her grandmother about fleeing a piano academy in fear of the teachers practicing witchcraft, all with Argento's interest in concepts found in Thomas De Quincey's 1845 essay Suspiria de Profundis, that of a European "Magic Triangle" intersection of Germany, France, and Switzerland where three Sorrows exist, ala the Greek fables of three Graces and three Fates.  These Sorrows would be "Mater Lacrymarum, Our Lady of Tears", "Mater Tenebrarum, Our Lady of Darkness", and "Mater Suspiriorum, Our Lady of Sighs", the latter being chosen as the big baddie in the film.

 

A big baddie who snores a lot apparently.

In contradiction to the idea that the narrative is an afterthought here, this may seem like a lot of material to be mined into a multilayered story about young coming-of-age women who face off against ancient evil forces that have been holding sway over a specific geographical location, causing mischief for centuries that could be attributed to all kinds of European turmoil.  While some of this may technically be what happens in Suspiria, you have to make leaps to these conclusions which Argento does not bother alluding to much.  The bare bones plot of Suzy Bannion arriving in a foreign country and uncovering a creepy mystery as to what her female dance instructors are up to is all there, but we are never given details as to any profound significance therein.  Instead, Argento hits us with style over substance right out of the gate, only letting up for a couple of necessary pauses so that the audience can catch their breath, settle their heart rate, and get some exposition until the next sensory explosion of primal colors and Goblin's wailing soundtrack hits again.

 

Suspiria is about those sensory explosions, and arguably ONLY about those sensory explosions.  This is in turn a master stroke because once again, we can look at the trope of European and specifically Italian genre movies from the day being more about set pieces than ironclad narrative cohesion.  People can watch Suspiria, the work of Lucio Fulci, some of the more ridiculous Spaghetti Westerns, or pick any giallo from the 1970s and they can laugh at how many plot points do not pass the icebox test.  Passing such a test is never the point though, and it is certainly not the point in Suspiria, but what works so well here is the type of otherworldly realm that it exists in.  By rooting the movie squarely in the supernatural, every outlandish and horrifying thing that happens needs no tangible explanation.  In fact if it had such an explanation, the nightmare illusion would be shattered, just like when you are having such a nightmare and realize that you are dreaming, at which point you wake up and the fun is all over.

 

And who would want to spoil this woman's fun?

Argento keeps that fun going throughout the movie, largely by throwing one inexplicable scene at us after the next.  We get yellow eyes and a hairy monster hand emerging from a window three stories up, a woman getting her still-beating heart stabbed on some type of scaffolding or balcony that is never shown to us, her friend screaming and banging on doors that no living soul answers as if she is the one being murdered, a blind man getting swooped down upon by some invisible force only for his trusted seeing-eye dog to lurch at him and rip his throat open, maggots descending from the ceiling and coming from a room-temperature attic where someone inexplicably was keeping raw meat, the main witch who is hidden throughout the whole film inexplicably deciding to sleep just on the other side of a flimsy sheet when the entire school is huddled together in the dance hall, a room brimful of wire, door handles placed at eye level, and of course impossible blue, red, or green color schemes nearly everywhere.

 

Even the opening where Jessica Harper leaves the Munich-Riem Airport and ventures into a pitch-black stormy night, we are already presented with vibrant colors intruding upon an otherwise actual location.  Also, the rude cab driver that she frantically flags down seems off to say the least, a man who refuses to help her with her luggage, has no idea where she insists on going at first, and then ignores her questions throughout their ride, only coldly staring at her when he has to.  All the while, the Black Forest in Freiburg, Germany is ominously shown outside like a series of prison walls, engulfing the cab while Goblin's score does half if not more than half of the mood setting until and during our first yet not last hilariously heightened murder sequence.

 

Imagine driving through here on any night while listening to any part of Goblin's soundtrack and NOT shitting your pants.

Which of course brings us to Goblin, the Italian prog band that collaborates with Argento for the second time here.  Whereas their previous score for Deep Red was full of catchy and stylish rock tunes done in a conventional band setting, their Suspiria score is a beast like no other.  Argento said to have worked closely with the group in concocting it, the music being finished before filming even began and apparently played on set at high volume to induce the correct atmosphere for the cast.  To say that this movie has the best soundtrack out of any in the horror genre is something that can barely be debated.  John Carpenter does a bang-up job in Halloween, Bernard Herrmann composed the most instantly recognizable sting during the shower scene in Psycho, (equal to John William's Jaws theme of course), but what Goblin does here is singular.  No horror movie is as naked without its music than Suspiria is, to the point where it is impossible to imagine the outlandish visuals without the equally outlandish sounds.

 

Music is often problematic in movies, dictating emotions to the audience that undercut a level of verisimilitude that would otherwise be achieved if we witnessed the drama unfolding on screen in a sober context.  Yet again, because Suspiria is not going for verisimilitude in the slightest, it only makes sense for the soundtrack to be as all encompassing as it is.  This is NOT a sober film.  This is a film to be swallowed up by.  At regular intervals, Argento gives us a break from Goblin's uncanny mixture of eerie synthesizers, tribal drums, "Witch!" screams, wailing vocals, unintelligible whispered gibberish, and all kinds of avant-garde noise, but the cacophony of sound always comes back, hounding us into a stupor where the creep-factor is intoxicating.  It often times seems as if the characters are hearing the same pummeling noises that we are, which would only make sense in a universe where rooms change to primal colors, and dogs, maggots, hairy arms, and wire rooms attack at a moment's notice.

 

Warning: men in picture are far more terrifying than they look.

As stated, this is style over substance, more overtly than even usual for Dario Argento who has made a career out of such tactics.  It is amazing to see what he accomplishes here at the peak of his powers and with a significant budget at his disposal.  Just compare it to any of his films from the last several decades to see the difference merely in the presentation.  When stuck with limited shooting schedules and funds, Argento regular forgoes flashy camera setups and ingenious shot construction out of necessity, let alone indulging in any kind of wild set or costume designs.  That is why his later movies often feature heightened performances instead, perhaps to compensate for the lack of visual flair since his scripts are routinely threadbare enough that other components require exaggeration to give his films SOMETHING to elevate them.  While Alida Valli chomps at the scenery a bit in Suspiria as the cold and butch dance instructor, and the English dubbing in these movies always renders the performances jarring at best, unintentionally silly at worst, most of the portrayals come off as level-headed.  This provides the necessary contrast to how exaggerated the film looks and sounds.  If EVERYTHING was cranked up to eleven, it would come off as ridiculous instead of ridiculous AND atmospheric.

 

Suspiria therefor represents Argento at his best, in a transitional phase where he had the clout and success behind him to take a chance with the financial backing to capture lightning in a bottle.  Every frame of the movie is visually stunning; even the "normal" ones where characters are merely sitting around are done so in loudly decorated rooms where the wallpaper and set design is as eye-catching as any of the bright red blood splatter.  Shit, even when shooting outside in broad daylight at the BMW Headquarters for a young and dashing Udo Kier cameo, Argento stages elaborate camera angles, some way high up looking down at the characters as if they are insect-size, some low angle closeups, zooms, and reflection images, including one where the director can be seen watching the acting unfold.  Yet just like the lack of who, why, what, and where all syncing up perfectly under a microscope, the film's imperfections enhance the unique, strange, and surreal nature of what we are watching and hearing.  There are other genre films the indulge in nightmare logic with elaborate camera set ups, over the top death sequences, and memorable music, but none of them are as masterfully aligned as Suspiria.  Argento himself would never top it, (never come close in fact), but considering that no one else has either, it would be asinine to expect him to.

 

Go right ahead Mr. Argento, you have earned the right to make Dracula 3D.