More Films of Dario Argento

Color, 1993, 108 mins. / Directed by Dario Argento / Starring Asia Argento, Christopher Rydell, Piper Laurie, Fredric Forrest / Anchor Bay (US R1 NTSC), Tartan (UK R0 PAL) / WS (2.35:1) (16:9) / DD2.0

After the glorious excesses of Opera, Dario Argento turned his eye to the American market with his contribution to the uneven Poe tribute, Two Evil Eyes, which found his sadistic camera gliding through the streets of Pittsburgh. Apparently the experience was positive enough to encourge the director to slate his next full feature, tentatively titled Aura's Enigma, for a shoot in Minnesota. He also kept on FX guru Tom Savini and composer Pino Donaggio, while the cast became a mix and match of American character actors with Argento's now famous daughter, Asia, assuming the tricky lead role of Aura, an anorexic, kleptomaniac murder witness.
Our story begins during a thunderstorm as a female chiropractor staying late at her office becomes the latest victim of the Headhunter, a serial killer who preys on seemingly unrelated victims during rainfall. The modus operandi involves a sinister electric noose which cleanly decapitates, allowing the head to be quickly removed from the scene of the crime. Meanwhile young David (Christopher Rydell), a TV news artist and recovering drug addict, pulls off the road to prevent a Romanian girl, Aura, from hurling herself off a bridge. Their conversation is interrupted when she's spirited back to her protective parents, who are preparing for a nocturnal seance. The mother (Piper Laurie) welcomes her guest but finds the session cut short when the Headhunter victim's spirit interrupts, sending Laurie fleeing into the night. Aura follows her in time to see both of her parents offed by the Headhunter. Aura and David cross paths again the next day and, despite their deep insecurities and foibles, agree to track down the killer before the rain falls again.
Sporting an odd array of supporting roles including a hammy Brad Dourif as a dubious doctor, Fredric Forrest as Aura's overbearing shrink, and James Russo as a police officer, Trauma feels like no other Argento film but could not be the work of anyone else. The film constantly imposes a disorienting, drug-like state in the viewer as it continuously pauses for bizarre throwaway set pieces, such as an institution where David suddenly finds himself accused by the all the patients of an unseen murder. While Opera experimented with unorthodox narrative form in its final fifteen minutes, here Argento extends this approach to the last half hour of Trauma, a haunting, masterful payoff which veers the story in a wholly unexpected direction. Obviously intent on outdoing Vertigo, Argento pushed the limits of abrupt plot turns yet again with his next film, The Stendhal Syndrome, which shifts gears in a similar manner halfway into the story!
Many Argento fans were disappointed with Trauma at the time of its release, due mainly to some clumsy bit part casting of apparent non-actors, a subdued color scheme which deliberately revolts against the saturated appearance of his '80s output, and the erratic score which works well on CD but seems completely at odds within the context of the story. (The one exception is his eerie love theme, "Ruby Rain," which provides the film with its most lyrical, poetic moment as a shattered David plunges into a moonlit lake.) These flaws seem far less crippling now in the wake of, say, Phantom of the Opera, which divided his followers much more violently. What holds Trauma together is its most unexpected element, the fragile, unconsummated love story between David and Aura. Both actors have not received their due for the effective portraits of damaged souls they essay here, and the pain evoked by their pasts contributes heavily to the weird resonance of the climax.
The worst blow to Trauma's reputation was undoubtedly its first video appearance courtesy of Worldvision, whose abominable VHS and laserdisc edition chopped the scope compositions into foggy, unwatchable fullscreen fragments which undermined almost every single shot of the film. Equally bad was the muddy mono soundtrack, which stifled the score and rendered much of the dialogue unintelligible. Even the Japanese version reverted to this disastrous transfer, leaving fans to resort to a widescreen workprint VHS which made the rounds through the video gray market. Containing 13 minutes of footage excised from Argento's final cut (including a much more rational explanation for that reggae band in the end credits and a better introduction for Aura), this rough cut contains a peculiar temp track score with tracks from Basic Instinct, Hellraiser, and Enya-- an odd combination, to say the least. A widescreen version from Tartan appeared on VHS in the UK but suffered from BBFC cuts to a pair of decapitation sequences. (The Worldvision tape was also trimmed down for an optional, Blockbuster-friendly R-rated version.)
While fans will still want to hang on to their workprint tapes, the Anchor Bay DVD represents the most acceptable commercial release of Trauma to date. (The earlier Tartan DVD is non-anamorphic but watchable, derived from the same master used for their VHSS but reinstating the excised gore.) The stereo surround track is thankfully present and accounted for, with thunderclaps nicely roaring from the rear speakers at opportune moments. Don't expect a knockout transfer, but this is at least enough to send those laserdiscs into the trash bins. The extras listed on the back of the UK release look more impressive than they really are; on the disc you get the original trailer (prepared by Overseas for international exhibition), a trailer for Phantom of the Opera to tie in with Tartan's release of that title, a print interview with Asia Argento, some behind the scenes photographs, a Richard Stanley essay, and notes about the BBFC's previous cuts to the film. The Anchor Bay edition adds on some deleted scenes culled from the Italian release with English subtitles (strange, really, since the workprint has the same bits in English), though it doesn't contain all of the scenes missing from the final cut, most egregiously Asia's original first appearance in the film. A bit of behind-the-scenes footage is also included along with the best extra, an insightful commentary from Argento expert Alan Jones who was on the set during shooting.

Color, 1977, 98 mins. / Directed by Dario Argento / Starring Jessica Harper, Joan Bennett, Stefania Cassini, Alida Valli, Flavio Bucci, Udo Kier, Miguel Bose / Anchor Bay, Blue Underground (US R1 NTSC) WS (2.35:1) (16:9) / DD-EX/DTS-ES
Whether seen as a glorious celebration of cinematic style as an instrument to terrorize or a shallow exercise in flashy visuals at the expense of content, Suspiria is a difficult experience to forget. Apart from its secured status as one of the most visually ravishing horror films, Suspiria stops at nothing to keep the audience in its grip and marks a radical departure from the rigorous narrative manipulation of Deep Red. Here the story offers few genuine surprises; instead, the pleasure lies in the bizarre little sideroads it takes along the way, offering up a seemingly boundless array of nasty delights at 24 frames per second. Here the random, illogical plotting and mannered acting which would normally cripple a film instead become assets, creating the disorienting air of a nightmare which must simply be accepted in order to enjoy the ride.
As the opening narration helpfully informs us, American ballet student Suzy Banyon (Jessica Harper) arrives in Frieburg, Germany to continue her studies at the celebrated Tanz Academy. Unfortunately she emerges from the airport several hours late during a violent thunderstorm and is turned away at the school door. Meanwhile another student rushes past her into the darkness and meets a sinister fate, the first sign of many indicating that this seemingly classical school of dance may not be all that it appears. Led by a mysteriously absent directress, the haughty Madame Blanc (Dark Shadows' Joan Bennett), and the perpetually grinning Miss Tanner (Alida Valli), the academy proves to be a challenging experience for Suzy right from the beginning. She's forced to room on the grounds after suffering an embarassing collapse during class, her entire floor must vacate to the gym for a sleepover after a particularly nasty infestation, and anyone who crosses the powers that be seems to meet wind up missing or dead. Along with her only friend, Sara (Stefania Casini), Suzy pieces together the puzzle that leads to a dramatic supernatural finale.
Anchored by Harper's wonderfully sensitive lead performance, Suspiria is in many respects Argento's most female-oriented film. The five minor male characters in the film only have one or two scenes each and serve as nothing more than plot functions, while both sides of the moral coin here are controlled by either innocent or corrupt women. Though the students don't seem to be fully aware of the school's true occult nature, the evil influence nevertheless manifests itself even in the early scenes which become more significant later on. For example, Harper's discovery that witches thrive on the gaining of personal wealth adds a sinister tone to the early comic relief scenes in which the girlish students snip about bilking money from their classmates, and that red wine Harper sips throughout the film doesn't look so harmless at all when she finally pours it into the sink. The intensity of its violence - most notably the vicious, unforgettable opening act - is filmed with the same visual care as the rest of the film. Never gratuitous, the killings instead function as a kind of brutal, ritualized occult practice carried over into modern times. The German setting and subtle allusions to its culture scarred by ritualized violence (note the Naziesque soldiers in the Munich square and the use of razor wire, for starters) add to the air of refined, decadent unease, creating a setting in which every well-appointed door and curtain leads to something dark and unspeakable behind it.
One of Argento's rare U.S. commercial successes, Suspiria was released by 20th Century-Fox (under the International Classics banner) in an R-rated edition which toned down some of its more baroque bloodletting. Fortunately audiences never forget the experience, and for years the film became something of a holy grail for those who couldn't get their hands on the scarce Japanese pan and scan laserdisc or the halfway letterboxed Venezuelan VHS tapes. Relief finally arrived when Magnum Entertainment released a widescreen, uncensored VHS edition which later made it to laserdisc courtesy of Image, with the U.S. and European trailers tacked on for good measure. Supervised by Bill Lustig, the transfer was very good for its time despite the deliberate desaturation of some colors to avoid video noise; even better, the stereo soundtrack was enough to inspire leagues of Euro horror fanatics to dump more money into their home video sound systems. The same transfer was later rehashed for a British DVD, about which the less said the better, and Fox Lorber's briefly released VHS edition was even more unsatisfying thanks to (blasphemy!) its mono soundtrack. Anchor Bay announced its plans to release Suspiria a year in advance, with public details released about the efforts made to create the finest version possible from the original negative. The results certainly do meet expectations, as the splashy colors on display here outrank even those on the already heavily saturated Japanese laserdisc versions. The snoring directress scene in which Harper and Casini are bathed in solid red lighting benefits especially from the added resolution, as Harper's nicely modulated facial reactions can now be appreciated without any ruinous smearing or smudging. The horizontally squished appearance of the earlier widescreen version has now been corrected, and the scope framing looks perfect.
Superficially the soundtrack appears to be a dynamic, thunderous presentation of the film, with the spectacular Goblin score beautifully separated between each channel and dialogue still creatively spread out between the front and center channels. However, it's worth noting that this is not a tweaked DD/DTS presentation of the familiar stereo surround version we've all grown to know and love. On this DVD, many of the sound effects are completely different, and several odd vagaries pop up compared to earlier English language versions. Among the most notable differences (with some spoilers, so beware): Pat's shouted statement at the front door during the rainstorm is now partially silent, making it impossible to make out her words even when one knows what she is saying; after Pat says "I'd like to dry off" at the beginning, the door slam behind her is now a soft thud instead of the earlier split-channel slam; the eyes glaring at Pat through the window are accompanied by a shorter, more muted sound effect stinger; the cries of "Help me" during the first murder have been reduced and are much softer; Pat is now heard screaming "No! No!" as she begins to collapse through the stained glass ceiling; the growling heard inside the school hallway when Albert is attacked by the seeing eye dog is different and much more subdued; the whispering voices emanating during the beginning of Sarah's nocturnal pursuit through the building are not the same, and the sounds heard during the close up of the razor being removed are edited differently. Most blatantly, when Suzy observes Madame Blanc and company undergoing their witch ritual, Miss Tanner now has a line of dialogue when she leans forward: "She wouldn't eat or drink anything this evening." The thunder effects which occur in the same scene to coincide with the red flashes of light (as Blanc utters "Sickness! Sickness!") are now missing, though the scene works about as well without them. Also oddly enough, the screaming voices heard over the end credits music are gone, leaving instead Goblin's frenzied middle movement of the main title theme. This release also marks the first availability of Suspiria with captions, and while this addition helps clarify a few lines of dialogue, it also contains quite a few errors and makes for hilarious reading when the captioner tries (and fails) to translate the Goblin music ("La la la la la la la -- Wait!").
Available in both a single disc and three-disc special edition, Suspiria has been brought to DVD with the full red carpet treatment. The movie disc includes the two aforementioned theatrical trailers, a brief TV spot (condensed from the U.S. trailer), radio spots, a gallery of international stills and poster art, talent bios, a very odd Daemonia music video (directed by Simonetti) for the main theme, and a funny Easter Egg involving Udo Kier. The second disc contains a 52 minute documentary, Suspiria 25th Anniversary, in which the main surviving participants offer their thoughts on the film's production and influence. Argento, Nicolodi, the members of Goblin, and cinematographer Luciano Tovoli offer elaborated versions of the familiar stories about the film's lensing on discontinued Technicolor stock, Nicolodi's inspiration from a relative's occult school experience, and the unorthodox process of the music composition. Argento offers a few nice new tidbits of information, such as his explanation behind the placement of all the school's doorknobs. Harper, Casini, and Kier all make very welcome appearances to offer an actor's perspective, and all of them seem to recall the production with great affection and seem even prouder of the film now. Harper and Casini's recollections of Bennett are a particular highlight, and Casini scores the biggest laughs with her vivacious impersonations of everyone involved on the set. Finally, Tovoli's anecdote about Single White Female is nearly worth the price of admission by itself.
Disc three offers the Suspiria soundtrack but isn't quite a direct carryover of the official Cinevox CD release. It contains the full album tracks and some of the bonus cues from the earlier expanded CD edition, along with the new Daemonia contributions to round out the CD on a more modern, rock-style note. Those who already have the CD probably won't notice much of a difference, so the expanded (and much heavier) three-disc version is mainly recommended for the excellent documentary and its hefty printed materials: nine color lobby card and poster reproductions, and an extensive, color booklet with well written, informative liner notes by Travis Crawford and a printed interview with Harper which expands a bit on her comments in the documentary.