Suspiria (1977)

Dir: DARIO ARGENTO
Country: ITALY

aka:
Dario Argento's Suspiria

As each new piece of cinematic excrement is ejected from the mind of Dario Argento I begin to think that Suspiria might have been a fluke. Each successive Argento picture is puked up onto a wounded and insulted fan base, one which has no option but to retreat into the mists of time to remind themselves why they liked Argento’s films in the first place. This period is generally recognised as being the 1970’s. There has developed a rose tinted view of this decade in horror circles; propagated by those who were around at the time (unfortunately this generation pretty much still sets the parameters when it comes to horror discourse) and their nostalgic agendas to tell us it was better in their day. Argento directed six films in the 1970’s, three of them (Bird with the Crystal Plumage, Deep Red, and Suspiria) were very good, the other three (Cat O Nine Tails, Four Flies on Grey Velvet, and The Five Days of Milan) were poor to average. Even in Argento’s decade of peak creativity he only had a strike rate of 50%. The 1980’s was even more frustrating, a series of the films that were impressive in part, but failures as a whole. Argento has proven himself to be a mediocre filmmaker, time has shown him to make more poor and dissatisfying films than good ones. So what makes Suspiria such an exceptional film? The answer of course lies in the talents he surrounded himself by. There are three key elements to Suspiria, which if extracted, would damage the film irrevocably.



The first is the influence of Daria Nicolodi. Her interest in witchcraft and the occult, the family anecdotes that formed the centre of the idea, and her writing of the screenplay is vital. This is the only film of Argento’s upon which Nicolodi had a major creative influence, and it just so happens to be one of his best. The second is the stunning aural assault of Goblin’s soundtrack. The third is Luciano Tovoli’s saturated cinematography; it might have been Argento’s idea to use the 3 strip Technicolor printing process, but it was Tovoli who had to light the scenes. The removal of any one of these aspects would be fatal to Suspiria. Argento brought the set pieces, and one cannot fault his use of camera here, these sequences achieve a brilliance that Argento would never repeat. But therein lies the reason why Suspiria is such an exceptional film in a mediocre career; the strength of the collaborators. Ironically Suspiria is sometimes included by scholars as evidence for Argento’s authorial stamp, but in fact this film totally opposes the auteur theory, and it is the strongest proof that Argento is not an auteur.



A great deal of the success of the film lies in the manner in which Argento draws upon the uncanny. This is one of numerous allusions to Freudian psychoanalytics that litter Argento’s films. Argento invests the opening scenes in and around Munich airport with a sepulchral atmosphere, danger lurking in the most unexpected places; the automatic doors for example swish closed with eerie menace. When Suzy Banyon (Jessica Harper) makes it outside the rain and wind lashes her frail form before she embarks on a hellish taxi journey. The overflowing storm drains, and barely glimpsed figure fleeing in the words add multiple layers of disquiet. Also of note here is the way in which the sound design works; switching from diegetic to non-diegetic makes us aware of a manipulating omniscient force (this is of course the filmmakers) but it also establishes instantly the reach and powers of the witches coven. This technique is extended most successfully in the set piece which sees the blind pianist meet his fate in an empty plaza. Though this sequence pales in comparison to the audacious double murder that opens the film.



The ballet school in Freiburg is a nightmarish space replete with labyrinthine passageways, secret entrances, a maggot infested attic, and a room full of barb wire for anyone whose curiosity gets the better of them. The architecture is decadent and self indulgent. It is presided over by a severe matriarchal presence, all of whom belong to the secret coven. These cruel matriarchs are powerful enough to use men, who in this film are weak, ineffectual, and easily manipulated. They are led by an ancient witch; The Mother of Sighs, Elaina Marcos, a rotting hag who controls events through her pliable minions. Despite the fact that Argento favours aesthetics over plot, the structure of Suspiria is not dissimilar to the gialli in which he specialised. Banyon is a foreigner in a new and frightening environment, she also takes on the role of the amateur detective in order to root out the mystery, in many ways Suspiria dramatises the incursion of the supernatural into the narrative strategies of the giallo. Although the narrative is slight, the mystery at the heart of the film is a strong unifying force, and even allows Argento one or two moments of self-reflexivity. It is also interesting to note the fascistic undertones of the coven, an appropriate stance considering the weight of history on that region of Germany. The film has the hysterical tenor of a fairy tale, a fable of caution which brings with it aspects of Germanic folklore. Fairy tales achieve resonance through their conclusions, and its only right that Suspiria should build to a fitting climax with heavy doses of stylisation. This is an emotionally hollow triumph of technicality.

 
© Shaun Anderson 2010