Suspiria: A Reimagining

A Visceral, Haunting Masterpiece

(Doomed to be called pretentious, pointless and polarizing)

It’s taken three full days to digest, and I’m still not entirely sure what it was that I witnessed, but this film was a goddamn experience.

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

                         

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The ‘remake’ in and of itself is perhaps one of the touchiest, and most taboo subjects to ever be inspired by the medium of film, especially when considering the notion of remaking what folks deem as “classic” cinema; Case in point: The 1977 cult favorite Italian supernatural horror flick Suspiria.

  Directed by Dario Argento, Suspiria ‘77 works as a beautifully shot, eerily moody melodrama just as much as it does a gonzo horror B-movie; a film containing some of the most neon colors of bright blood and flooded saturated lighting ever captured on film. Contrasting the visual splendor, the film is also one of the most jarringly and vibrantly violent pieces of cinema in the horror genre; filled with moments of explicit terror and abrupt chaos; a shocking experience that had been unseen by the likes of any other horror movie, during that time. To boot, it also features one of the genre’s most hauntingly demonic scores from horror-composing group Goblin, that nearly matches if not outdoes John Carpenter’s Halloween score in terms of being as iconic as the film itself.

  So why remake the film at all?

  Here’s the catch: Suspiria (2018) isn’t a remake; Hell, it’s hardly even a reboot. If anyone is to argue what we should be calling it at all, the film should be deemed a straight up reimagining.

  Directed by Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name), Suspiria ‘18 possesses elements from Suspiria ‘77 and while still very much so a moody horror film about ballet dancers gone dark (and by dark I mean royally fucked up), the new film uses the original film’s structure as a means to essentially tell a brand new story with completely original characters and aim straight for the depths of the audience’s soul to deliver even more brazen a complex message, through means of a tonally abstract mood.

 In short: This is nearly an entirely different film from the original Suspiria in almost every way, and it is ALL the better for it.

  Guadagnino uses Argento's film as Cliffnotes to develop his own platform and it ends up being a huge advantage. The sooner audiences separate Suspiria '18 from '77, and the more they let the new film marinate as a stand alone piece, the more there is to digest. The film is a LOT to unpack but in regards to treating this as a straight remake, beyond anything more than traces of Argento's original there is very little to takeaway.

  Guadagnino has delivered an absolute beast of an original film and the precise care that went into the craft behind it is unimaginably admirable; the visually stunning cinematography, Thom Yorke’s soothingly haunting score, Swinton’s multi-range performances, the authentic dance choreography, and delicate balance between seductive feminine nature and grotesque body horror; it’s impossible not to be entranced by what’s happening on screen.

  One of the most unique shifts of the film is in setting and atmosphere. Where '77 was set in a very rainy Munich and is very much so an English-spoken film that's almost entirely bound to the walls of the Tanz Dance Academy, the '18 film takes full advantage of the new Berlin setting and locations. The characters don't just jump in and out of speaking German, the entire picture presents a chilly winter atmosphere, both indoors and snowy outdoors, which is fitting for all the post-Nazi influence the film's plot carries. The film bares heavy themes of German war and revolution which are up for grabs in terms of conversation about political metaphors. As it stands, both films heavily feature rain (if you care to analyze that at all).

  With the cold opening, we follow young Patricia (Chloë Grace Moretz) who has abandoned this forbidden dance academy as she raves in horror to her psychotherapist Dr. Klemperer (an old German man played by Tilda Swinton who tackles multiple roles in the film); her character wet and disheveled, covered in dirt as she exclaims the academy is a coven of witchcraft. From here, even though she's seen as delusional (and unfortunately reduced to essentially a cameo) the character sets the uneasy tone, and it lasts for nearly three hours.

  The new film feels deeper and thicker, even if it packs a much less powerful punch than its predecessor. For starters, Guadagnino dishes the ideals of supernatural horror right in the opening scene, rather than saving it for the climax as Argento originally kept it in the initial film. This choice was an extremely bold one but an admirable one as the director intentionally uses witchcraft as a present parallel to the themes of mistrust, empowerment and all other heavy aspects of the women of the Markos Dance Academy. Rather than revealing the ballet as a school of literal witches as a means for a plot-twist, Guadagnino takes full advantage of keeping things slightly supernatural throughout, as a means to keep the core focus on the tension in between the spooky happenings.

  Outside of the thematic parallels between the two films, the most stark difference visually is easily in color pallet. Where Argento's original film is vibrant like a drug-induced fever dream, Guadagnino keeps color tones muted and very pale, using brightly lit shades of neon sparingly, notably during the dance performance sequences. While this is of course a visual contrast from the original film, it also develops an uneasy mood. The shadows and grim atmosphere accent the film’s bleak nature, keeping the whole thing from feeling like it's going to tip over into a full-tilt sprint of insane Gothic horror.

  Frustratingly enough, Guadagnino keeps much of the physical horror to a minimum, leaving lots of room to be desired. He milks the run time to such a stretched degree of tension building with only scarce moments of genuine terror or violence in between that it's bound to dare audiences to question why they're invested in the film at all. Granted the bleak tone of the entire film keeps the moody atmosphere at a horrifically disturbing level, which of course results in a MUCH more effective horror piece overall than that of the lazy jump scare. The wonderful negation to the film's resistance to the instant gratification of "horror," is that once the horrific moments DO appear, however few and far in between, they're effective as FUCK.

  Don’t mistake the mood for mundane here; this is still VERY much so a horror film even if mostly atmospheric horror. Luca is unafraid to dish out the blood and gore when he needs to, and when he does he burns the imagery in the minds of the audience.

  Guadagnino waits only thirty minutes into the film before delivering his first true, horror moment and it is one of the most genuinely unnerving scenes I've ever seen in a horror film. It involves Susie (Dakota) performing an intimate and intense dance sequence to an eerily ominous piece of piano music, and juxtaposed to Susie's ballet moves is Olga who just after cursing the group and walking out on them, is trapped in a room of mirrors, and what happens to this poor, helpless woman; the way in which the scene is shot, between Johnson's swift moves against this women being slammed into mirrors and her body contorting; the literal body horror of it is sickening to such a degree that it will hold audiences over until the next horror moment, but will also linger long after the credits roll. The scene is haunting and straight up disturbing.

  Like witchcraft itself, Guadagnino’s film casts a spell with equally mesmerizing and haunting charm, albeit the bloated 152 minute run-time will undoubtedly challenge audience's perception and patience in almost every aspect. Sure the film has a dazzling effect but beneath the surface it also appears to amount to very little beyond the impressive aesthetics of its craft.

  For one, the film’s biggest beef is the lack of The Hero’s Journey. We follow Dakota Johnson as newcomer Susie and much like the original film Susie feels like an outcast who the audience can initially relate with, but as the protagonist becomes the pupil of mentor Madame Blanc (Tilda Swinton) her character doesn't necessarily change or evolve through any major transformation. Granted, the huge reveal at the end of the film unravels Susie's true intentions to assess, embrace and ultimately overpower the entire cult of the Markos Academy, it's almost impossible to not feel cheated by the lack of evolution through the protagonist's character.

  In fact, it's Susie's friend Sara (Mia Goth) who is not only the most relatable character of the film but the only one with any transformation of reasonable doubt. Sara witnesses the horrors of Susie's blind dedication to Madame Blanc and even when she rants to Dr. Klemperer with further justification of all the witch-business, more so than Patricia, her character feels short-changed because Johnson is obviously supposed to be the focal character where if the film equally balanced the two females, the dynamic between their morals would be far more engaging.

  That said, when Guadagnino delivers he doesn't hold back at all. He hosts a cast almost entirely made up of strong females, and even though most of them are never fleshed out they're part of a huge female empowerment with feminine expressionist themes that are bound to make right wing enthusiasts (if not many audiences) tremble in their seats. If the women don't cause the audiences to shake, the finale sure will.

  Granted once we reach the final ballet; the haunting 'Volk' piece that the entire film builds to, the chess pieces finally start to feel like they're moving towards a Queen of an ending and sweet baby Jesus, does Guadagnino deliver it. With 'Volk' we see a cross between Susie and Sara and the culmination of their characters through the bewitching sequence of their uniform dance with eye-color change, and the shenanigans that ensue are chilling and mesmerizing. Guadagnino is clearly building to a climax that no one could possibly anticipate.

  The finale is long earned, though arguably not worthwhile, and even more difficult to dissect. Regardless, it's a motherfucker of an ending and almost unlike anything I've ever seen in a horror film, let alone most films in general. It looks like something ripped straight from a dark, religious cult, and feels like something we should not be watching.

  The way in which the scene culminates; With the dungeon-like setting; all the women naked, performing their sacred ritual; the reveal of the gruesome Mother Markos; the entire blood bath that goes down; the flooded red lights in tune with Yorke's haunting score; it's all a blend of some of the most horrific and mesmerizing imagery in cinema, in all of 2018 and beyond. It's an incredibly uncomfortable experience culminating in every disturbing mood the film had been building to up until this point; an explicitly ambiguous and horrifying sequence bound to send shivers down spines and cause hairs to stand up, leaving a sickening feeling that will last.

  The bat-shit insanity of the scene alone nearly matches the gonzo horror of Argento's original. It's the lack of depth in the scene if not all of Guadagnino's film that leaves things perhaps too ambiguous for viewers, regardless of however much a mind fuck the whole thing is.

  In the end, the weight of this fucking movie is soul crushing, leaving an after effect which feels like pure melancholy; as if Guadagnino has completely drained the life from an audience who didn’t deserve it. 

  Much of the film is held back and often feels like a looking glass; were we the audience peering in on the Markos Academy though the eyes of Dr. Josef Klemperer, and even though we experience scarce moments of beauty and horror intertwined; wrapped in an enigma of unsettling mystery, we're ultimately nothing more than witnesses to what feels like a very small glimpse at a much bigger, deeper and darker story than what's actually being developed. 

  And much like Klemperer's fateful ending, the audience is pretty much washed away of everything that took place for the past three hours of their lives; our slate is wiped clean because we know something huge just happened, but we can't exactly recall it or describe what it makes us feel, or why we even feel it at all. It is for this reason alone that folks will call it a masterpiece, and others will declare it a piece of dog shit.

  It's incredibly easy to see why people will write this one off as pretentious and polarizing because Guadagnino intentionally keeps his audience at arms length in order to merely tease a film which feels like it's on the cusp of being one of the most effective horror movies ever made. As it stands, the film is far too held back to earn that kind of reputation, and yet as it will grow with time, it will inevitably be declared as some kind of cult sensation, perhaps akin to the reputation the original Suspiria earned, more than four decades ago.

  Maybe Guadagnino wasn't going for "horror masterpiece" at all; Perhaps he didn't want to cut himself off with a ceiling of limitations. The extensive run-time clearly shows that the man is embodied with nothing but pure love and dedication to his craft, perhaps tenfold to his care for Call Me By Your Name. If Suspiria '18 proves anything by Guadagnino, it's that the man is talented as fuck and has a knack for visual splendor and mesmerizing charm. Granted the film could arguably chop an entire hour and still have the same impact, maybe Guadagnino really wanted his audience to feel the length as a means to understand something greater; something beyond it being "just a movie."

  Perhaps the film truly is a misunderstood masterpiece. Albeit, maybe the film really is just pompous and pretentious. Either way, it's bound to split audiences as it's easily the most polarizing film of 2018, if not the most flat out ambitious.