The Films of Dario Argento: Tenebrae


A few Octobers ago, I got the bright idea to try to review all of Dario Argento’s films over the course of TSL’s annual horrorthon.  Unfortunately, I got that idea on September 29th, two days before the start of Horrorthon.  I managed to make my way through Inferno until I had to temporarily abandon the project to focus on everything else that was going on that month.  However, since I’m not the type to fully give up on anything, I figured this would be the great year to finish up my Argento reviews.

Following the commercial failure of Inferno, a disillusioned Dario Argento returned to Rome.  His bad experience with 20th Century Fox had soured Argento on continuing to work with Hollywood and his struggles to film Inferno (as well as his increasingly strained relationship with girlfriend Daria Nicolodi) left him with little desire to continue The Three Mothers trilogy.  Instead, he focused on a new idea, one that was inspired by his own experience with an obsessed fan who had left vaguely threatening messages for him when he was in New York.  Released in 1982, Tenebrae was Argento’s return to the giallo genre and it would turn out to be a very triumphant return, even if in, typical Argento fashion, it would take a few years for many people to realize just how triumphant.

Argento himself claimed that, while the film was certainly a giallo, it was also his first stab at science fiction.  In an interview that appeared in Cinefantastique, Argento said that the film was meant to take place a few years in the future, after some sort of calamity had occurred that has greatly reduced the world’s population.  Interestingly, Argento said that the survivors were largely from the upper class and that none of them wanted to talk about or remember what had happened.

Is the science fiction element actually present in this film?  I think it is, though perhaps only because I’ve specifically looked for it.  Rome, as portrayed in Tenebrae, is a city that is full of sleek but impersonal buildings, the type that would have been recently built by a wealthy society that was unsure of what it believed.  Argento specifically avoids filming any scene near any historical landmarks, suggesting all of the evidence of Rome’s former greatness has been wiped out.

Perhaps the most futuristic element of the film (and the most prophetic) is that no one really seems to have a connection with anyone else.  The crowd scenes in Tenebrae aren’t really that crowded, even the ones that take place in what should be a busy airport.  (In many ways, the film’s portrayal of a Rome that is both busy but strangely empty brings to mind Jean Rollin’s portrayal of Paris in The Night of the Hunted.)  Even when we see people socialize, there seems to be an invisible barrier between them, as if they don’t want to run the risk of getting too close to each other.  When one character is fatally stabbed while out in public, perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the murder is that so many people just walk away, as if they’ve been conditioned to ignore anything unpleasant.  The only thing that prevents this scene from feeling like a vision of 2023 is that there aren’t a bunch of people filming the victim’s final moments on their phone.

The film opens with a sequence that, as a former teen shoplifter, left me feeling disturbed.  Elisa Manni (Ania Pieroni, who played The Mother of Tears in Inferno and the enigmatic housekeeper in Fulci’s The House By The Cemetery) is a shoplifter who gets caught trying to steal the latest book by thriller novelist Peter Neal.  After being released, the carefree Elisa walks back to her home and, after being menaced by both a barking dog and a pervy old man, Elisa arrives in the safety of her house, starts to undress, and is promptly attacked by a black-gloved killer who slashes her neck and stuffs pages of Neal’s book into her mouth.  It’s not just the murder that makes this scene disturbing but also the fact that the killer was somehow waiting for Elisa in her house, establishing that this is a world where the safety of even a locked door is an illusion.

Peter Neal (Anthony Franciosa), who we first see riding his bicycle in New York, has come to Italy to promote his latest book, Tenebrae.  He arrives in Rome with his manager, Bullmer (John Saxon, giving a likable performance) and his assistant, Anne (Daria Nicolodi).  Confident to the point of arrogance, Peter is a pro at dismissing claims that his books are violent and misogynistic but even he is taken aback when an old friend of his, the journalist Tilde (Mirella D’Angelo), suggests that Tenebrae might inspire violence.

Peter Neal is a celebrity and a pretty obvious stand-in for Argento and everyone in the film is obsessed with him.  His ex-fiancée, Jane (Victoria Lario), has followed Peter to Rome, intent on getting some sort of revenge for the way that he treated her while they were together.  (Daria Nicolodi felt the vindictive and unstable Jane was based on her, which was another thing that strained her notoriously volatile relationship with Dario.)  Peter’ young assistant, Gianni (Christian Borromeo, of Deodato’s The House on the Edge of the Park and Fulci’s Murderrock) hero worships him.  The puritanical talk show host, Christiano Berti (John Steiner), wants to interview Peter about the morality of his books.  And the killer, whoever they may be, is leaving letters for Peter, informing him that his book have inspired the killer’s crimes.  Detective Germani (Spaghetti western star Giuliano Gemma) is investigating the letters and he is an admitted fan of Peter Neal’s novels but, somewhat alarmingly, he mentions that he’s never able to guess the killer’s identity.

Argento’s camera restlessly prowls his futuristic Rome while Goblin’s music booms on the soundtrack as the people in Peter Neal’s life are murdered by a killer wearing black gloves and carrying a straight razor.  The murder scenes feature some of Argento’s best work, directed in such a ruthless and relentless manner that we understand the killer’s determination without having to see their face.  This is a film of elaborate set pieces and, as if in direct response to 20th Century Fox’s attempts to control his work on Inferno, Argento is eager to show what he can do when left alone.  The film is remembered for the sequence where the camera glides over the exterior of an apartment building while the killer stalks the inhabitants but, for me, the scariest scene is when poor Maria (Lara Wendel), the daughter of Neal’s landlord, finds herself being chased straight into the killer’s lair by a very viscous Doberman.

When the film does slow down, it’s for flashbacks to a beach and acts of sexual violence performed by and against an enigmatic woman (who is played by transgender performer, Eva Robbins).  The beach flashbacks unfold in a hazy, dream-like manner and they leave us to wonder if what we’re watching is real or if it’s just a fantasy.  If the “modern” scenes feature Argento at his most energetic, the beach scenes feature Argento at his most enigmatic.

Daria Nicolodi often said that she considered her final scene in this film to be Argento’s greatest act of cruelty to her.  Coming across the killer’s final tableaux and discovering the truth about who the killer is, Anne stands in the rain and screams over and over again.  Nicolodi apparently felt that Argento required her to stand there soaked and screaming in order to punish her for having worked (with Tenebrae co-star John Steiner) on Mario Bava’s Shock, instead of having accepted a supporting role in Suspiria.

Whatever personal motives may have been involved in the decision, I think Nicolodi’s screaming is one of the most powerful moments to be found in Tenebrae.  It’s certainly the most human moment because I think anyone with a soul would scream upon learning the truth of what has been happening in Rome.  Every assumption that Anne had has been overturned.  Who wouldn’t scream?  Continuing with Argento’s claim that the film was about a world where people no longer discuss the terrible things that have happened, Anne’s screams are the most human part of the movie.

Tenebrae is the last of Agento’s truly great and flawless films.  Of course, in usual Argento fashion, it was not treated well in the States, where it was initially released in a heavily edited version and with a terrible title (Unsane, under which it can still be found in certain Mill Creek box sets).  But Tenebrae has since been rediscovered and today stands as one of Argento’s greatest triumphs.

The (Reviewed) Films of Dario Argento:

  1. The Bird With The Crystal Plumage
  2. Cat O’Nine Tales
  3. Four Flies on Grey Velvet
  4. Deep Red
  5. Suspiria
  6. Inferno

The TSL Daily Sci-Fi Grindhouse: Contamination (dir by Luigi Cozzi)


contamination-02

See those green things in the picture above?  You’re probably looking at them and you’re thinking to yourself, “Those are the biggest avocados that I’ve ever seen!”

Well, they’re not avocados.

No, instead they are green eggs from Mars.  They may look harmless but if they start glowing, pulsating, and making an eerie womping noise, you might want to get away from them.  When those eggs explodes, they spray out a green goo.  Any living creatures that is so much as even splashed by this goo will then explode in a mass of blood and guts.  It’s messy.  I would not want to clean up after anyone is sprayed with green goo.

Those eggs are at the center of this week’s daily sci-fi grindhouse, the 1980 Italian film, Contamination.  How much you enjoy Contamination will largely depend on how much you like old school Italian exploitation films in general.  If you’re the type who rolls your eyes at bad dubbing and who demands that a film follow some sort of narrative logic, you are not the ideal audience for this movie.  However, if you’re like me and you enjoy the pure shamelessness of Italian exploitation, you’ll probably have an easier time enjoying Contamination.

It won’t come as a surprise to any student of Italian or grindhouse cinema to learn that Contamination was ripped off from several films that were popular in the late 70s.  The eggs are largely lifted from Alien and, whenever the goo-sprayed bodies explode, it’s reminiscent of that ugly little thing bursting out of John Hurt’s chest.  The second half of the film feels like a secondhand James Bond film, complete with a sinister conspiracy, a mysterious mastermind who earlier faked his own death, and a femme fatale.  The conspiracy is headquartered on a coffee plantation in South America.  It’s not difficult to imagine Baron Samedi or some other villain from Live and Let Die showing up and laughing before throwing an exploding egg at someone.

Contamination opens with a seemingly deserted ship floating into New York harbor.  Fans of Italian cinema will immediately think about the opening of Lucio Fulci’s Zombi 2.  Just as Zombi 2 opened with the New York City police investigating an abandoned boat and getting attacked by a zombie, Contamination features the New York City police investigating an abandoned boat and getting sprayed with green goo.  The only cop who doesn’t explode, a tough New Yawker named Tony (Marino Mase), works with Col. Stella Holmes (Louise Marleau) to figure out why those eggs were on that boat.

Helping them out is an alcoholic former astronaut named Commander Ian Hubbard (Ian McCulloch).  Somewhat appropriately, McCulloch was also in Zombi 2.  (And let’s not forget about his role in Zomie Holocaust…)  I once read an interview with McCulloch (in Jay Slater’s overview of Italian zombie cinema, Eaten Alive) in which he said that he didn’t feel he did a very good job in Contamination but I think he’s being too hard on himself.  Is the very British and slightly uptight Ian McCulloch miscast as a cynical, alcoholic, American astronaut who can’t even walk to his front door without stumbling over discarded beer cans?  Sure, he is.  But he’s so miscast that it actually becomes rather fascinating to watch him in the role.  He may be miscast but you can tell he’s really trying and he’s just so damn likable that you almost feel like it would be a disservice to him not to watch the film.

Anyway, Stella, Tony, and Hubbard have to discover out why the green eggs are on Earth and they eventually do figure out what’s going on.  I’ve watched the film multiple times and I have to admit that I’m still not sure what they figured out.  It’s a confusing movie and I doubt that there’s really any way that it could have ever made any sort of coherent sense but then again, that’s part of the film’s charm.

So, here’s what does work about Contamination.  The exploding green eggs are both scary and wonderfully ludicrous.  Ian McCulloch is a lot of fun as drunk Commander Hubbard.  Goblin provides an excellent and propulsive score.  And finally, there’s an alien monster who simply has to be seen to be believed.  To his credit, director Luigi Cozzi realized that the monster looked cheap and he uses all sorts of creative editing and employed an arsenal of jump cuts to try to keep you from noticing.  Much as with McCulloch’s performance, you can’t help but appreciate Cozzi’s effort.

As I said before, you’re enjoyment of Contamination will probably be determined by how much you enjoy Italian exploitation films in general.  If you’re not familiar with the Italian grindhouse, Contamination is not the film to use for an introduction.  However, if you are already a fan, you might appreciate Contamination.

Contamination is in the public domain and, as such, very easy to track down.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xulOEFLoeK0