Suspiria (2018) Film Thoughts

In 1977, former film critic and burgeoning darling of the recently dubbed “gialli” movement of mystery cinema took his deep departure into pure pop horror with what would become his most revered work. SUSPIRIA(1977) spins the tale of one Susie Bannion(Jessica Harper), who’s journey across the Atlantic not only lands her in a strange place, but in a prestigious dance academy possibly run by a coven of malevolent witches. A bold sense of amplified visual and sonic aesthetics, coupled with director, Dario Argento’s lessened emphasis on grounded logic, grants the original film a deeply unsettling aura only matched by the over the top architecture, costume designs, not to mention over the top murder scenes. Part Snow White, part exploration of the terrors of womanhood, the 1977 SUSPIRIA for all its nerve-wracking brilliance, is indicative of an era uncertain as to where the conversation regarding early feminism was indeed going. Like it’s contemporary, CARRIE(1976) it’s a story loaded in its fear of the vaginal, and of what it will mean when such power is unleashed upon the world in time.

Which allows for Luca Guadignino’s 2018 interpretation to use the questions that Argento’s masterpiece posited, and respond with often astute confidence. And all it takes is considering what was occurring around Germany at the time as the post-war government had its hands full against the far left Red Army Faction, and the Lufthansa Flight 181 hijacking that took place over the imprisonment of several of its founders. A moment when the young found themselves fueled by a contempt for the atrocities often perpetrated by their fathers and grandfathers, many of whom were still in government after the fall of the Third Reich. All of this is sprinkled heavily throughout the outside of the Markos Dance Academy, which faces the glowering wall in West Berlin.

We begin as erstwhile runaway student, Patrizia Hingle arrives at the office of psychotherapist Joseph Klemperer continuing what seems to be the culmination of numerous visits. Dazed, a fearful, Patrizia struggles to convey what she has seemingly long suspected; that the famed school is indeed a cover for supernatural evil. She does this before again darting out, and into the troubled air of rebellion that lies in the snowy gray of the city.

Enter American, and former Mennonite, Susie (Dakota Johnson) who seems to have arrived at the academy at a bad time considering Pat’s disappearance. Her abilities immediately impress the school’s staff, including celebrated dance director Madame Blanc (A startling, almost Meredith Monk-turn by Tilda Swinton, who also plays two other surprising roles here.). Her elevation to the lead protagonist of the academy’s celebrated WWII era piece, Volk. Bannion’s evident enthusiasm allows her to gain ground with an almost preternatural ease as the final performance for this show approaches. And even as Susie’s story unfolds, Dr. Klemperer’s suspicions regarding the school and the disappearance of Pat inch ever closer to a merging. And unlike the original, we are almost immediately privy to the existence of the long standing reality of witches running the school, now reaching elder status, operating under the guise of a democracy. contrasted with flashes of Susie’s life in Ohio, possibly seen as something other even amongst her family.

Her arrival to the school marks more than the occasion of a potential sea change, but of something not seen in this burgeoning movement in over thirty years. “Women were much stronger before the war” one supporting character muses early in the film. Implying that the movement didn’t necessarily die, but rather went underground. Everyone making their choice within unequal times, not realizing that they too may find themselves unable to free themselves from the shackles they once lived within.

Via the script by David Kajganich we begin meta-peeling away at the fruit of the 1977 film from frame one, complete with a tearing away of the artifice and color that had long been that piece’s greatest claim to fame. This Suspiria, isn’t here to play cinematic karaoke with us so much as dig deeper into what the surface fears were back then. Granting a far more layered, painful, and occasionally tangential take on the story. Not unlike Christopher Nolan’s attempts at mythological deconstruction, Guadagnino’s take is a grim, gray, mostly analog affair that embraces the nature of the stage, of dance, and in turn of what can turn rebellion into its own self-serving autocracy. Pangs of post-WWII guilt bubble to the surface as the coven itself is experiencing splinter factions, plots to undermine, and perhaps a means to conquer far beyond liberation. Almost as if to comment on the nature of liberation politics in and of itself. Just as the RAF sought so desperately to challenge the perpetuated wrongs of a not-so-distant past, there is a danger in becoming that which we fear the most.

One could almost argue that the finished film eschews the very meaning of subtext, and chooses to bring this concern to grotesque center in a final act that must be seen to be believed. For a moment, I admittedly harbored the anxiety that the film was going to lean hard in Argento/Nicolodi’s direction by perpetuating the fear of a matriarchy. But was happily swerved by an epilogue that clarifies that what we just witnessed was not so much a scare piece involving generations of internalized misogyny, but rather a warning of what we could become should we fail to remain introspective in times of struggle. The film as it is, wants to have the cake and all that, but also makes a cogent, albeit occasionally overdrawn hand in portraying a world at odds with its own ideals.

We can mean well all we want.

But what we do to each other speaks throughout history.

What a joy it is, to have enjoyed this unique renaissance of almost retrograde, borderline art house horror for nearly ten years. I say that because I cannot imagine SUSPIRIA(2018) happening without the last decade of independent scare tales. Guadagnino’s drive to create something on par with, and possibly beyond one of my personal favorites is a grim joy to behold. From the stunning costume, Yorke score, art direction, lighting, editing and sound design, there is a bounty of treasure to behold for those open to it. To be able to sit in a darkened theater in Hollywood to enjoy two and a half hours of sumptuous, thoughtful, and occasionally unsettling sights and sounds the likes we probably haven’t seen on this scale in nearly forty years, feels like a gift from the past, perhaps as an important lesson for what we in 2018 are all experiencing.