The Films of Dario Argento: Inferno

Posted on October 7, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

I’ve been using this October’s horrorthon as an excuse to rewatch and review the films of Dario Argento! Today we take a look at one of Argento’s best and most underrated films, 1980’s Inferno!

“There are mysterious parts in that book, but the only true mystery is that our very lives are governed by dead people.”

— Kazanian (Sacha Pitoeff) in Inferno

When 20th Century Fox released Dario Argento’s Suspiria in 1977, they weren’t expecting this Italian horror film to be a huge box office success. That it was caught them totally off guard. Though the studio executives may not have understood Italian horror, they did know that Suspiria made them a lot of money and they definitely wanted to make more of it.

As for Dario Argento, he followed up Suspiria by producing George Romero’s Dawn of the Dead. He also supervised the film’s European cut. (In Europe, Dawn of the Dead was known as Zombi, which explains why Lucio Fulci’s fake sequel was called Zombi 2.) When Dawn of the Dead, like Suspiria before it, proved to be an unexpected box office hit, it probably seemed as if the Argento name was guaranteed money in the bank.

Hence, when Argento started production on a semi-sequel to Suspiria, 20th Century Fox agreed to co-finance. Though the majority of the film was shot on a sound stage in Rome, Argento was able to come to New York to do some location work, hence making this Argento’s first “American” film. The name of the movie was Inferno.

Sadly, Inferno proved to be a troubled production. Shortly after production began, Argento became seriously ill with hepatitis and reportedly, he had to direct some scenes while lying on his back while other sequences were done by the second unit.

As well, Argento had a strained relationship with 20th Century Fox. Argento wanted James Woods to star in Inferno but, when it turned out that Woods was tied up with David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, the studio insisted that Argento cast an actor named Leigh McCloskey instead. As a performer, James Woods is nervy, unpredictable, and compulsively watchable. Leigh McCloskey was none of those things.

Worst of all, as a result of a sudden management change at 20th Century Fox, Inferno was abandoned by its own distributor. The new studio executives didn’t know what to make of Inferno and, in America, the film only received an extremely limited release. The few reviews that the film received were largely negative. (Like most works of horror, Argento’s films are rarely critically appreciated when first released.) It’s only been over the past decade that Inferno has started to receive the exposure and acclaim that it deserves.

Argento has said that he dislikes Inferno, largely because watching it remind him of a very difficult time in his life. That’s unfortunate, because Inferno is one of his best films.

The Mother of Tears (Ania Pieroni) in Inferno

“Have you ever heard of the Three Sisters?”

“You mean those black singers?”

— Sara (Eleonora Giorgi) and Carlo (Gabriele Lavia) discuss mythology in Inferno

As I stated previously, Inferno is a semi-sequel to Suspiria. Whereas Suspiria dealt with an ancient witch known as the Mother of Sighs, Inferno deals with her younger sister, the Mother of Darkness. The Mother of Sighs lives underneath a German dance academy. The Mother of Darkness lives underneath a New York apartment building. The Mother of Sighs was a witch. The Mother of Darkness is an alchemist.

Beyond that and the fact that Alida Valli is in both films (though apparently playing different characters), there aren’t many references to Suspiria in Inferno. The tone of Inferno is very different from the tone of Suspiria. If Suspiria was perhaps Argento’s most straight-forward films, Inferno is one of his most twisted. It makes sense, of course. Suspiria is about magic but Inferno is about science. Suspiria casts a very Earthy spell while Inferno often feels like a scientific equation that cannot quite be solved.

The film deals with Mark Elliott (Leigh McCloskey), an American music student in Rome. After he gets a disturbing letter from his sister, Rose (Irene Miracle), a poet who lives alone in New York City, Mark heads back to the U.S. to check in on her. (That’s right — Mark and Rose are two more of Argento’s artistic protagonists.) However, when Mark arrives, he discovers that his sister is missing and it’s obvious that strange inhabitants of the building are trying to cover something up.

“May I ask a strange question?”

“How strange?”

— Sara (Eleonora Giorgi) and Mark Elliot (Leigh McCloskey) in Inferno

Even more than with some of Argento’s other films, the plot of Inferno isn’t particularly important. One reason why it’s easy to get annoyed with Mark is because he spends the entire film demanding to know where his sister is, despite the fact that those of us in the audience already know that she’s dead. Argento showed us her being murdered shortly before Mark’s arrival. Argento makes sure that we know but he never bothers to reveal the truth to Mark and one of the more curious aspects of the film is that Mark never discovers that his sister is dead. (By the end of the film, one assumes that he’s finally figured it out but even then, we don’t know for sure.) The fact of the matter is that Mark and his search for his sister are never really that important. Argento doesn’t particularly seem to care about Mark and he never really gives the viewer any reason to care either. (Of course, it doesn’t help that Mark is rather stiffly played by Leigh McCloskey.)

Instead, Argento approaches Inferno as a collection of increasingly surreal set pieces. Much as in Lucio Fuci’s Beyond trilogy, narrative logic is less important than creating a dream-like atmosphere. Often time, it’s left to the viewer to decide how everything fits together.

There are so many odd scenes that it’s hard to pick a favorite or to know where to even begin. Daria Nicolodi shows up as Elise Stallone Van Adler, a neurotic, pill-popping aristocrat who briefly helps Mark look for his sister. Eventually, she’s attacked by thousands of cats before being stabbed to death by one of Argento’s trademark black-gloved killers. After Elise’s death, her greedy butler makes plans to steal her money. Did the butler kill Elise? We’re never quite sure. Does the butler work for The Mother of Darkness or is he just being influenced by her evil aura? Again, we’re never sure. (By that same token, when the butler eventually turns up with eyes literally hanging out of their sockets, we’re never quite sure how he ended up in that condition. And yet, somehow, it makes a strange sort of sense that he would.)

Cats also feature into perhaps the film’s most famous scene. When the crippled and bitter book seller Kazanian (Sacha Pitoeff) attempts to drown a bag of feral cars in a Central Park pond, he is suddenly attacked by a pack of a carnivorous rats. A hot dog vendor hears Kazanian’s cries for help and rushes over. At first, the vendor appears to be a good Samaritan but suddenly, he’s holding a knife and stabbing Kazanian to death. Why did the rats attack in the first place? Is the hot dog vendor (who only appears in that one scene) a servant of the Mother of Darkness or is he just some random crazy person? And, in the end, does it matter? At times, Inferno seems to suggest that the real world is so insane that the Mother of Darkness is almost unnecessary.

Meanwhile, in Rome, Mark sits in class and reads a letter from his sister. When he looks up, he immediately sees that a beautiful young woman is looking straight at him. She’s petting a cat and staring at him with a piercing stare. (She is played Ania Pieroni, who later achieved a certain cult immortality by appearing as the enigmatic housekeeper in Lucio Fulci’s The House By The Cemetery.) The film later suggests that the woman is the third mother, the Mother of Tears, but why would she be in the classroom? Why would she be staring at Mark?

When Mark’s girlfriend, Sara (Eleonora Giorgi), does some research in a library, she finds a copy of a book about The Three Mothers and is promptly attacked by a mysterious figure. When she flees back to her apartment, she meets Carlo (Gabriele Lavia, who was also in Deep Red) who agrees to stay with her until Mark arrives. Is Carlo sincere or is he evil? Argento does eventually answer that question but he certainly keeps you guessing until he does.

Finally, I have to mention the best and most haunting scene in the film. When Rose searches a cellar for a clue that she believes will lead her to the Mother of Darkness, she discovers a hole that leads to a flooded ballroom. When Rose drops her keys into the hole, she plunges into water and swims through the room. (The first time I saw this scene, I immediately said, “Don’t do that! You’re going to ruin your clothes!”) As Rose discovers, not only keys get lost in that flooded ballroom. There’s a dead body as well, one which floats into the scene from out of nowhere and then seems to be intent on following Rose through the entire room. It’s a sequence that is both beautiful and nightmarish. (It certainly does nothing to help me with my fear of drowning.)

In the end, Inferno is a dream of dark and disturbing things. Does the plot always make sense? Not necessarily. But that plot’s not important. The film’s surreal imagery and atmosphere of doom and paranoia casts a hypnotic spell over the viewer. Inferno is perhaps as close to a filmed nightmare as you’ll ever see.

“She writes poetry.”

“A pastime especially suited for women.”

— Mark and the Nurse (Veronica Lazar) in Inferno

Finally, no review of Inferno would be complete without discussing some of the people who worked behind-the-scenes.

Along with acting in the film, Daria Nicolodi also worked on the script. As is so often the case with Daria and Dario’s collaborations, there are conflicting reports of just how involved Nicolodi was with the final script. Daria has said that she would have demanded co-writing credit, if not for the fact that it had previously been such an ordeal to get credited for Suspiria. Others have claimed that, while Nicolodi offered up some ideas, the final script was almost all Argento’s creation.

(Comparing the films that Argento made with Nicolodi to the ones that he made without her leads me to side with Nicolodi.)

Working on the film as a production assistant was William Lustig, the famed exploitation film producer and director who would later become the CEO of Blue Underground. Reportedly, during filming, Lustig attempted to convince Nicolodi to star in a film that he was going to direct. Nicolodi’s co-star would have been legendary character actor Joe Spinell. Disgusted by the film’s script, Nicolodi refused the role and, as a result, Caroline Munro ended up playing the stalked fashion photographer in Lustig’s controversial Maniac.

Future director Michele Soavi worked on several of Argento’s films. I’ve always been under the impression that Soavi was a production assistant on Inferno but, when I rewatched the film, he wasn’t listed in the credits. Inferno is also not among his credits on the imdb. I guess the idea that one of my favorite Italian horror directors worked on one of my favorite Italian horror films was just wishful thinking on my part.

However, you know who is listed in the credits? Lamberto Bava! Bava, who would later direct the Argento-produced Demons, worked as an assistant director on Inferno. That leads us to perhaps the most famous member of Inferno’s crew…

Mario Bava!

Inferno was the final film for the father of Italian horror. As so often happens, there are conflicting reports of just how involved Bava was with the production. It is know that he worked on the special effects and that he directed some second unit work while Argento was bed ridden with hepatitis. Irene Miracle has said that almost all of her scenes were directed by Mario Bava and that she rarely saw Argento on set.

Mario Bava is often erroneously described as being Dario Argento’s mentor. That’s certainly what I tended to assume until I read Tim Lucas’s All The Colors of the Dark, the definitive biography on Mario Bava. Bava was certainly an influence and it’s certainly true that Argento appears to have had a better relationship with him than he did with Lucio Fulci. But the idea that a lot of Italian horror fans have — that Mario Bava was hanging out around the set of The Bird With The Crystal Plumage and offering Argento fatherly advice — does not appear to be at all true. (It’s a nice image, though.) With all that in mind, it’s still feels somewhat appropriate that Bava’s final work was done on one of the best (if most underappreciated) Italian horror films of all time.

“I do not know what price I shall have to pay for breaking what we alchemists call Silentium, the life experiences of our colleagues should warn us not to upset laymen by imposing our knowledge upon them.”

— The Three Mothers by E. Varelli, as quoted in Dario Argento’s Inferno

Horror Film Review: Drácula (dir by George Melford)

Posted on October 7, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

One of the wonderful oddities of film history is that, in 1931, Universal produced not one but two versions of Dracula. There’s the version that we all know, the one with Bela Lugosi. And then there was the Spanish language version.

It was a common practice during the early days of the sound era for the studios to concurrently shoot Spanish-language versions of their films. In the case of Dracula, the cast and the crew for the Spanish version would shoot at night, after Lugosi, Edward van Sloan, Dwight Frye, and everyone else had gone home. The crew and the actor cast as Dracula, Carlos Villarias, were allowed to watch the dailies, with Villarias being specifically told to model his performance as much on Lugosi’s as possible.

Most of the early Hollywood’s Spanish films have been lost but Drácula has survived. In fact, among some horror critics, it’s become a bit trendy to declare that the Spanish language version is superior to the English version. While I was preparing for our annual October horrorthon, I decided to watch Drácula and see for myself.

In some ways, Drácula is indeed superior. The film uses the same script as the English version and was filmed on the same sets. But visually, it’s a far more interesting film. Because director George Melford (who was quite an acclaimed silent film director) had a chance to watch Dracula‘s dailies, he also had the benefit of hindsight when it came to making decisions regarding lighting and camera angles. If the English language Dracula suffers because its stationary camera work makes it feel like a filmed stage play, the Spanish-language Drácula feels like a real movie.

As well, there’s a passion to the Spanish language Drácula, a passion that often seems to be missing from the English language version. The English language version often seems to be going out of its way not to offend — the screen fades to black whenever Dracula starts to bite anyone, Jonathan Harker and Mina Seward are both portrayed rather dully, and, with the exception of Lugosi, Dwight Frye, and Edward van Sloan, everyone seems to be a bit too restrained in their performances.

Perhaps because it was specifically being filmed for foreign distribution, the Spanish language Drácula is far less restrained. We see what Dracula actually does to his victims. We see Eva and Lucia’s ecstatic reactions to being bitten by the vampire. As oppose to Dracula, where everyone was very proper and very covered, Drácula embraces cleavage and moaning in the same way that, 20 years later, would make Hammer Studios famous. The actors in Drácula are far more passionate, emotional, and sensual than their English-language counterparts. They’re far more … well, Spanish. Spanish is an exciting language and it’s pretty much impossible for someone speaking it to be boring.

But, unfortunately, Drácula fails where it matters most. In the role of the count, Carlos Villarias never exhibits the charisma that we associate with the best Draculas. I get the feeling that he was mostly cast because he bore a passing resemblance to Bela Lugosi. Since he was instructed to imitate Lugosi, that’s what his performance comes across as being. While Villarias does a better Lugosi imitation than that guy that Ed Wood used in Plan Nine From Outer Space, it’s still just an imitation.

And unfortunately, you really can’t have a good Dracula film unless you have a good Dracula. In a perfect world, we would have a combination of the two versions, with Bela Lugosi starring in the Spanish version. However, we live in an imperfect world but at least it’s a world where we can watch both Dracula and Drácula.

Horror Film Review: Dracula (dir by Tod Browning)

Posted on October 7, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

It pains me to say it but, of all the classic Universal monster films, Dracula is probably my least favorite.

I hate to say that because I love vampires and I love the story of Dracula. I have read the book several times, I’ve seen several productions of the stage play, and I’ve seen a countless number of Dracula films. (Christopher Lee’s version is my favorite.) The 1931 version of Dracula — while hardly being the first vampire movie — was still a very important moment in the history of horror cinema. Every vampire film that has come out since owes a debt of gratitude to Dracula. Bela Lugosi’s performance set the standard against which almost all vampires are judged.

I always want to love Dracula but … no, the film just doesn’t work for me.

Of course, we all know the film’s story. Dracula (Bela Lugosi) comes to England from Transylvania. He turns Lucy (Frances Dade) into a vampire and attempts to do the same thing to Mina Seward (Helen Chandler). Mina’s fiancée, John Harker (David Manners) and father, Dr. Seward (Herbert Bunston), attempt to stop him with the help of Prof. Van Helsing (Edward van Sloan). Renfield (Dwight Frye) serves as Dracula’s servant and eats bugs. Dracula tells us that he does not drink … wine. He talks about the music of the night. His eyes get wide at the sight of blood and he hides his face when confronted with a cross.

Of course, though Dracula may have first appeared in Bram Stoker’s novel, the film is actually an adaptation of a stage play that was based on the novel. That’s the main problem with Dracula as a movie. It’s a very stagey film, one that never seems to quite break free of its theatrical origins. It’s a rather slow-moving film, one that is full of awkward scene transitions and moments of dead air. One need only compare it to F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu or Carl Theodor Dreyer’s Vampyr to see just how visually bland Dracula really is.

Dracula‘s blandness is especially surprising when you consider that the direction is credited to Tod Browning. Browning directed some of the best horror films of the silent era and, after the release of Dracula, he went on to direct the brilliant Freaks. Dracula doesn’t feel like a Browning film but perhaps that’s because it actually wasn’t. Reportedly, Tod Browning was struggling with depression during the filming of Dracula and was rarely on set. Instead, most of the film’s direction was handled by cinematographer Karl Freund. Freund had never directed a film before (though he would later acquit himself quite well with The Mummy) and Dracula‘s flaws were largely a result of that inexperience.

Well, that may be true or it may not. Here’s what we can say for sure: Bela Lugosi’s work as Dracula holds up surprisingly well. When seen today, it can be difficult to fairly judge Lugosi’s performance. We’ve seen so many parodies and bad imitations that it’s difficult to imagine the impact that it may have had on audiences in 1931. Lugosi was recreating his stage performance and it’s a very theatrical performance but, at the same time, Dracula is a character that doesn’t demand or require subtlety. There’s a power to Lugosi’s performance. Maybe it’s the piercing stare or the unbridled blood lust that seems to be reflected in his eyes. Maybe it’s the accent. Maybe it’s the haughty and arrogant way that he carries himself. Whatever it is, it works.

No, Dracula does not hold up as well as you might hope. But Bela Lugosi’s performance remains a classic.

4 Shots From Horror History: La Llorona, The Invisible Man, Maniac, The Bride of Frankenstein

Posted on October 7, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

This October, I’m going to be doing something a little bit different with my contribution to 4 Shots From 4 Films. I’m going to be taking a little chronological tour of the history of horror cinema, moving from decade to decade.

Today, we continue with the 1930s.

4 Shots From 4 Films

La Llorona (1933, dir by Ramon Peon)

The Invisible Man (1934, dir by James Whale)

The Invisible Man (1933, dir by James Whale)

Maniac (1934, dir by Dwain Esper)

The Bride of Frankenstein (1935, dir by James Whale)

Horror on the Lens: Nosferatu (dir by F.W. Murnau)

Posted on October 7, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Today’s Horror on the Lens is a classic film that really needs no introduction! Released in 1922, the German silent film Nosferatu remains one of the greatest vampire films ever made. It’s a film that we share every October and I’m happy to do so again this year!

(As well, since I’m going to be reviewing Dracula later today, it seems especially appropriate to start things off with Nosferatu.)

Enjoy!

Ginger Snaps, Reviewed- BAM!

Posted on October 6, 2016 by casewright

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I need to begin this film review by writing that I LOVE THIS MOVIE…A LOT! There will be some geeking out- prepare yourselves. The ideal horror film takes an issue or life lesson and hides the message in something scary. The horror genre is not alone; good science fiction does this, but it’s rare. “Ginger Snaps” takes the milestone of 50% of the World’s population – the menarche and uses lycanthropy as a metaphor for it. Yes, you read that right- Werewolfism as a metaphor for the first menstrual cycle. I have two very young daughters and in an odd way, I feel a little more prepared. This film’s got it all: werewolves, a coming of age story, and Mimi Rogers. Yes, Mimi Rogers – a Voluptuous Artsy Smarty Pants (VASP) and the uber crush of my youth – is in Ginger Snaps.

We open in suburban Canada- every house looks the same. A mom is cleaning up yard waste and her son is playing in the sandbox with…. dog gore. The mom sees her son covered in their dog and their dog is opened all up. She freaks in the neighborhood and no one cares.

The story moves onto Brigitte and Ginger. Brigitte is the introspective sister and Ginger is the more gutsy one. They both are very Alternative and Gothish. In high school, these would be the girls whom I would’ve crushed on very awkwardly and they would’ve thought I was boring because I was into sports and pretty stammering. The sisters are obsessed with death. They stage elaborate death scenes of each other impaled, hanged, poisoned, overdosed, and suffocated (list not exclusive). They present this avant garde masterpiece to their teacher who thinks they’re whacko. Sidenote: I truly love the 1990s vibe the high school has!!!

The girls are trying to play Field Hockey. Brigette is being bullied by a Mean Girl. Then, Brigette trips into a dog and what I mean by into I mean there is ANOTHER mauled dog and Brigette is sitting in him. YEECH!

They get home and their mom- Mimi Rogers- is trying to connect with them. She recognizes the premenstrual symptoms that Ginger is having and tries to bond with her. It fails- Poor Beautiful Mimi Rogers. The girls sneak out of the house to kidnap the Mean Girl’s dog. While canine hunting, Ginger gets her period as she calls it The Curse and the Werewolf attacks her. Also, they call the lycanthropy a curse throughout the film. Ginger is mauled by the werewolf and is saved by Brigette, but the werewolf gives chase and is run over by a Drug Dealer’s van. Yep, forget silver to kill Werewolves; it’s all about an old school car. A Prius, however, would not likely save you because they suck and are terrible.

The girls get home and Ginger’s wounds are already healing. The movie continues with references to lunar cycles in relation to Ginger’s lunar and menstrual cycle. Ginger rapidly leaves Brigette behind as she begins to chase a bad boy and the occasional neighbor dog for a snack. Ginger also begins to dress more provocatively. Then, Ginger porks her boyfriend and she grows a tail. See what premarital sex will get you?! A Tail!

Brigette attracts the Mean Girl’s ex the Drug Dealer who ran over the werewolf. He comes up with some nifty werewolf-be-gone remedies: One being for Ginger to get a belly piercing- Ok, whatever works. Ginger gets more aggressive at school and beats the piss out of anyone who messes with Brigette. We see Ginger’s Boyfriend and he looks roughed because Ginger gave him her werewolf disease by knockin’ boots with him. The Drug Dealer guy figures out that mainlining wolf’s bane will cure Ginger.

The Mean Girl shows up at Brigette’s and Ginger’s home and hilariously slips and dies. Sorry, it was kind of funny. The girls bury her in the cellar. Later, Mimi Rogers finds the body of the Mean Girl and resolves to take the girls far away. Ginger kills a few more people and becomes more wolf-like and decides it’s time to party.

She tries to seduce Drug Dealer guy, but is thwarted by Brigette. Mimi loses track of her girls and is not seen again. Brigette distracts Ginger by mixing their blood with the hope that this will distract Ginger long enough to inject them both, curing them all. Does it work? Not so much. Ginger goes full-on werewolf, Brigette is becoming a werewolf, and …… You’ll just have to watch. I’m not spoiling the 3rd act of the best Metaphorical Horror Movie Ever! NO WAY! Go buy this film!!! It’s really awesome! If you buy Ginger Snaps and you don’t like it, you get to keep it. This film is just purely great! I know many of you like my snark alec a lot, but this movie just wonderful!

Horror On TV: Tales From The Crypt 2.13 “Korman’s Kalamity”

Posted on October 6, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Believe it or not, I was planning on sharing more than just episodes from Tales From The Crypt this October but seriously, these old shows are just so much fun!

For instance, consider tonight’s episode! In Korman’s Kalamity, Jim Korman (Harry Anderson) is an artist who works on the popular and famous comic book … Tales From The Crypt! (Needless to say, his name should also make you think of Roger Corman, as well.) After his wife (Colleen Camp) orders him to take an experimental fertility pill, his drawings suddenly start to come to life!

Since Korman specializes in drawing monsters, you see how this could be a problem…

Korman’s Kalamity is a self-referential delight. Needless to say, it’s all played for laughs and sentiment so be sure to sit back and enjoy!

This episode was directed by Rowdy Herrington (who also directed that cable mainstay, Road House) and originally aired on June 26th, 1990.

The TSL’s Daily Horror Grindhouse: The Ghost Galleon (dir by Amando de Ossorio)

Posted on October 6, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The Blind Dead are back and this time, they’re on a boat!

Yes, you read that correctly. 1974’s The Ghost Galleon is the third film in Spanish director Amando de Ossorio’s Blind Dead series. The decaying and blind Knight Templar are back and they’re just as evil and blood thirsty as they were in both Tombs of the Blind Dead and Return of the Evil Dead. However, this time, they’re on a boat. What are they doing on a boat? Apparently, they’re guarding some sort of Satanic treasure chest and they’re killing and eating anyone who makes the mistake of boarding their boat.

That means that this is the first Blind Dead film to not feature any scenes of the Blind Dead riding their horses in slow motion. That may not sounds like much but the absence of those horses is definitely felt. The Blind Dead on horses are a metaphor for everything from political tyranny to religious oppression. The Blind Dead on a boat are still scary but now they’re also vaguely silly.

And yet, the Blind Dead on a boat is not the silliest part of the film! The Ghost Galleon starts out with two models lost at sea. Apparently, they were hired by a businessman and aspiring politician named (in the version released in America, anyway) Howard Tucker (Jack Taylor). Howard is a boat manufacturer and he felt it would be great publicity if the models took one of his boats out into the ocean and pretended to get stranded. Apparently, Howard felt that this would convince the public that they could live for weeks in one of his speedboats if they needed to…

No, I’m not making that up. That’s the plot of the damn film.

ANYWAY — the models get stranded for real but suddenly, here comes a big, dark, old timey galleon. It’s just floating out in the middle of the ocean and it appears to be surrounded by a very thick fog. Naturally, the models decide to leave their boat for the galleon because why stay somewhere vaguely safe when you can get on a big, scary, evil looking galleon?

Now the models are missing and Howard needs to get his boat back. So, he and his evil henchman get yet another model to sail out to the middle of the ocean with them. Also accompanying them is a historian/scientist guy, who is mostly there because the film will later need him to fill in the backstory of the Blind Dead…

Now, I know that it probably sounds like I’m being supercritical of the third Blind Dead film but actually, it kind of works. The key is not to worry about logic, consistency, or anything you learned about at that screenwriting workshop. Instead, simply accept The Ghost Galleon as being the equivalent of a filmed nightmare. For everything that the film lacks in logic, it makes up for in atmosphere. (Let’s just say that the fog machine gets quite a workout.) And while it may not make much sense for them to be on a boat, the Blind Dead are just as scary, evil, and merciless as ever.

Add to that, the film has a great ending. I won’t spoil it here but I will say that the film’s final shot makes up for a lot of what you have to sit through in order to reach it.

The Ghost Galleon should not be the first Blind Dead film that you see. (Unfortunately, it can be found in several ultra cheap box sets, complete with a bad transfer and spotty soundtrack.) But if you’ve seen Tombs of the Blind Dead and Return of the Evil Dead, you should also see The Ghost Galleon. If nothing else, it proves the de Ossorio could get results with even the most ludicrous of premises.

The Films of Dario Argento: Suspiria

Posted on October 6, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

I’m using this October’s horrorthon as an excuse to take rewatch and review all of Dario Argento’s films! Today, we take a look at one of Argento’s best known and most popular films, 1977’s Suspiria!

I’m going to start things out by admitting that this is an intimidating review to write. I once had a discussion with fellow TSL contributor Leonard Wilson about why it’s always so much easier to write about films that we hate than it is to write about films that we love. That’s certainly something that I’m thinking about right now, as I try to think of where to begin with Suspiria.

It’s not just that I like Suspiria. Anyone who has ever visited this site before knows how much I appreciate Italian horror in general and Argento in specific.

No, it’s that I absolutely love this film. I was sixteen the first time that I saw it and I’ve loved it ever since. To me, Suspiria is not just one of the best horror films ever made. It is truly one of the best films period. And I know that I’m not alone in feeling like that. Suspiria is a classic in every sense of the word.

Compared to almost every other film that Argento has made, the plot of Suspiria is remarkably straight forward. Suzy Banyon, an American ballet student, enrolls at the prestigious Tanz Dance Academy in Frieburg, Germany. From the minute she arrives, she gets the feeling that there is something strange happening behind the garish walls of the school and she’s right. While the film may be best known for Argento’s directorial flourishes and Goblin’s classic score, the story itself unfolds with the simplicity of a fairy tale.

The film even opens with a narrator who informs us, “Suzy Banyon decided to perfect her ballet studies in the most famous school of dance in Europe. She chose the celebrated academy of Freiburg. One day, at nine in the morning, she left Kennedy airport, New York, and arrived in Germany at 10:40 p.m. local time.” It’s the film’s equivalent of starting things off with, “Once upon a time…” Having let us know that we’re about to watch a fairy tale and therefore having served his purpose, the narrator isn’t heard for the rest of the film.

Instead, we watch as Suzy first arrives in Germany:

As played by Jessica Harper, Suzy Banyon is yet another neurotic but brave Argento protagonist who has found herself in a strange land. One of the things that I love about Suspiria is that Suzy is such an ordinary and relatable character. She’s not “the chosen one.” She’s not a witch or an aspiring witch or the daughter of a witch or the reincarnation of a witch. She’s not desperately looking for a husband or dealing with a family tragedy or any of that other BS that we have to deal with in today’s cinema.. She doesn’t have any dark secrets or untapped magical powers. She’s not seeking vengeance. She has no trendy agenda. She’s not the protagonist of the latest YA novel. Instead, she’s a dancer. She is someone who is attempting to pursue something that she is good at and that she loves. In short, she is the viewer. Suzy Banyon is us and we are Suzy Banyon. Like us, she’s sometimes scared. Like us, she’s sometimes brave. And, like us, it’s just not in her nature to leave a mystery unsolved.

It’s obvious, from the moment that Suzy arrives, that there’s something strange happening at the school. We, of course, already know that it involves witchcraft. This is largely because we’ve been listening to the film’s score and we’ve heard Goblin’s Claudio Simonetti chanting “WITCH! WITCH!” as Suzy’s taxi drives through the woods and arrives at the school. (The journey through the woods adds to Suspiria‘s fairy tale atmosphere.)

However, for Suzy, her initial concern is that everyone at the school appears to be trying to cheat her out of her money. Madame Blanc (Joan Bennett) has arranged for Suzy to stay in an apartment on which she’ll have to pay rent. When Miss Tanner (Alida Valli, a force of pure nature in this film) finds out that Suzy’s bags have yet to arrive and Suzy doesn’t have any ballet shoes, she tells her to borrow a pair from another student. The student immediately offers to sell them to Suzy and is visibly deflated when Suzy says that she’s just needs to borrow them for a day.

And, of course, there’s Olga (Barbara Magnolfi), a student who thinks that names that start with S are the names of snakes.

(I have to admit that, as a former dance student, that scene brought back a lot of memories.)

But it’s not just money that Suzy has to worry about. There are also maggots that fall from the ceiling, the result of a shipment of spoiled meat. There’s the strange and labored breathing that Suzy occasionally hears behind the walls. There’s the fact that her new roommate, Sarah (Stefania Casini), is convinced that the teachers are hiding a secret. Sarah’s therapist, Dr. Frank Mandel (Udo Kier, playing an oddly respectable role) thinks that Sarah is suffering from delusions but is she?

And, of course, there’s all the mysterious deaths.

For instance, Daniel, a blind piano player, has his throat ripped by his seeing eye dog. Interestingly enough, Daniel is played by Flavio Bucci who, in The Night Train Murders, played a murderer. One of his Night Train victims was played by Irene Miracle, who would later have an important role in Suspiria‘s semi-sequel, Inferno.

Another former student, Pat Hingle (Eva Axen) is brutally stabbed to death and, after her body falls through a skylight, the shattered glass kills her best friend as well. Of course, the killer wears gloves. It wouldn’t be an Argento film otherwise. (Pat’s murder is one of Suspiria‘s best known set pieces, one that is so brutal and violent that it retains its power to shock even after you’ve seen it a few times. For the most part, if someone is going to stop watching or walk out on Suspiria, it’s going to happen during Pat’s murder.)

And through it all, you have Goblin playing on the soundtrack. The film’s score is so important and so relentless that, in its way, it becomes just as important a character as Suzy, Sarah, Madame Blanc, Miss Tanner, or even Udo Kier! The score is relentless and, depending on how loudly you play the film, almost deafening. I saw an interview with Goblin’s Claudio Simonetti where he said that he wanted the score to be “almost annoying” in its relentlessness. The score overpowers you, in much the same way that the witches of Suspiria overpower their victims.

Suspiria was co-written by Daria Nicolodi, Dario Argento’s girlfriend and the mother of Asia Argento. Nicolodi has long claimed that Suspiria is based on something that happened to her grandmother. Argento, meanwhile, has said that nothing in the film was based on fact. Reportedly, Nicolodi wanted to play the role of Suzy and was so offended with Argento instead offered her the role of Sarah that she went off and made Mario Bava’s Shock instead.

(Suspiria is often cited as the start of the long and acrimonious process that would eventually end with Argento and Nicolodi ending their relationship 8 years later.)

Personally, I think that Nicolodi would have been wasted in the role of Sarah but, at the same time, it’s hard to imagine anyone other than Jessica Harper as Suzy Banyon. For that matter, it’s also impossible to imagine anyone other than Dario Argento directing Suspiria. Suspiria is Argento’s masterpiece, taking all of his frequent and familiar motifs (bloody murders, artistic protagonists, the constantly roaming camera, the use of primary colors) and pushing them to their natural extreme. It’s hard to imagine anyone other than Argento telling Suspiria’s story.

Dario Argento on the set of Suspiria

And yet, that is exactly what is about to happen. For years, of course, I’ve heard rumors of a remake and, perhaps naively, I’ve dismissed them. I took some comfort in the fact that even Dario Argento himself came out and forcefully denounced the idea of anyone remaking his masterpiece. Remake Suspiria? I would think to myself, Surely no one is that stupid.

Well, it’s happening and if that doesn’t outrage you, perhaps you should leave right now. Reportedly, the remake is set to be released in 2017. It’ll be directed by Luca Guadagnino and it’ll star Dakota Johnson, Chloe Grace Moretz, and Tilda Swinton. Guadagnino says that his remake will be all about the “power of motherhood.”

Whatever, Luca. Suspiria doesn’t need you and it doesn’t need to be remade.

Suspiria is perfect just the way it is.

Horror Film Review: The Bride of Frankenstein (dir by James Whale)

Posted on October 6, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

1935‘s The Bride of Frankenstein is usually described as being a sequel to Frankenstein, but I think it would be better to call it a continuation. In much the same way that all modern YA adaptations seem to be split into two parts, Universal split Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein into two separate films. The bare basics of The Bride of Frankenstein‘s plot — the monster learns to talk and demands that his creator build him a mate — can all be found in the original novel.

(Of course, in the original novel, the monster somehow learns how to speaks like an Oxford grad and Dr. Frankenstein destroys the female monster before bringing her to life. The monster responds by killing Elizabeth. Seriously, Frankenstein is a dark book.)

Bride of Frankenstein features one of my favorite openings of all time. Lord Byron (Gavin Gordon) and Percy Bysshe Shelley (Douglas Walton) are praising Mary Shelley (Elsa Lanchester) and the story that she’s told about how a dedicated scientist played God and created life. Mary informs them that she’s not finished and then proceeds to tell them the rest of the story. It’s a great opening because it lets us know that the rest of what we’re seeing is taking place directly inside of Mary’s mind. It frees the film from the constraints of realism and allows director James Whale to fully indulge his every whim, no matter how bizarre. When you’re inside someone else’s imagination, anything can happen and that’s certainly the feeling that you get as you watch The Bride of Frankenstein.

The Bride of Frankenstein opens with that burning windmill and a wounded Henry Frankenstein (Colin Clive) being carried back to his wife, Elizabeth (Valerie Hobson, replacing Mae Clarke). Gone is the original film’s coda, in which Elizabeth announces that she’s pregnant. And why shouldn’t it be gone? It felt awkward in the first movie and, like any good writer, Mary Shelley is fixing her story as she goes along.

While Henry is recovering, he is approached by a former mentor, Dr. Pretorious (Ernest Thesiger). Dr. Pretorious is undoubtedly an eccentric and definitely a little bit crazy but he believes in Frankenstein’s work. In fact, Dr. Pretorious has even created life on his own! He’s created a bunch of tiny people that he keeps in several glass jars. They’re impressive but, sadly, they’ll never conquer the world. Pretorious wants Frankenstein to, once again, work with him to create life. As Pretorious explains it, it’s time to usher in a new age of “God and monsters!”

(Interestingly enough, one of Pretorious’s henchmen is played by Dwight Frye, who previously played Frankenstein’s henchman, Fritz, in the first film. Frye dies in both films. Reportedly, Universal bestowed upon him the nickname, “The Man of a Thousand Deaths.” It can perhaps be argued that Dwight Frye was both the Steve Buscemi and the Giovanni Lombardo Radice of Universal horror.)

Meanwhile, the monster (Boris Karloff, credited with just his last name because, just four years after Frankenstein and the Mummy, he was already an icon) has survived the burning windmill. He’s lonely, he’s afraid, and he actually kills more people in The Bride of Frankenstein than he did in Frankenstein. And yet, he’s still the film’s most sympathetic character. With everyone constantly trying to kill him, you can understand why the monster is quick to attack every human being that he sees. He’s almost like a dog who, after years of abuse, automatically growls and bears his teeth at anyone that he sees.

And yet, the monster does eventually find a friend. A blind hermit (O.P. Heggie) invites the monster into his own home. (Of course, the hermit does not know who the monster is. He just assumes that monster is a normal man who does not know how to speak.) As time passes, the hermit teaches the monster how to say a few words and also tells the monster that there is nothing worse than being lonely. The monster learns that “Friend good.” The monster even learns how to smoke a cigar and Heggie and Karloff play these roles with such warmth (Bride of Frankenstein is not only the film where the Monster learns to talk, it’s also the one where he learns to smile) that you really start to dread the inevitable scene where everything goes wrong.

And that scene does arrive. Two hunters stop by the hermit’s shack and immediately attack the Monster. The Monster flees. The shack burns down. The hermit is led away from his only friend, apparently destined to be lonely once again.

Eventually, of course, the Monster does get his bride. The Bride is such an iconic character that it’s easy to forget that she only appears in the final ten minutes of the film. Elsa Lanchester plays both Mary and the Bride. She screams when she sees the Monster. “We belong dead,” the Monster replies and my heart breaks a little every time.

So, which is better? Frankenstein or The Bride of Frankenstein? I don’t think it’s necessary to choose one or the other. To use a metaphor that might be appreciated by Henry and Dr. Petorious, Frankenstein is the brain while The Bride of Frankenstein is the heart. They’re two good films that, when watched together, form one great film.