Suspiria

It only makes sense that I should review the 1977 film Suspiria by Dario Argento, as I have referenced its title in my blog name, thus I am revisiting the film for the third time; this time at the Astor theatre. I wanted to see if Suspria’s tagline of “The only thing more terrifying that the last 12 minutes of the film… are the first 92” can still be as effective as it once was on me.

And yes, it still was a hallucinogenic nightmare.

Right away its atmosphere is vivid, beginning with heavy rain at night-time we see Suzy (Jessica Harper) become increasing distressed as she tries to hail a taxi to take her to a prestigious dance academy in Germany that she’s been accepted into. Upon her arrival and Suzy’s refused into the academy we are introduced to another girl (Eva Axen) who flees the academy, muttering to herself, as the camera trails her into the woods. We can perhaps relax a little, she leaves the woods and arrives at a friend’s place where we get the feeling she might be safer. Only to witness more, when we are confronted with a scene that continues to terrify me, it involves a curtain-less window, a mysterious arm and a large knife. Welcome to Giallo.

Giallo not only describes Argento’s work, but also that of other Italian Directors such as Mario Bava and Lucio Fulcio which translates to simply mean yellow. However, this is a particular type of yellow, which originated from a series of yellow covered detective novels and became a genre of film that uses heavy colours, large splatters of blood, orchestral scores, in which beautiful women are often slayed. In saying this, it may seem like a genre that could be looked at as smutty, over the top, and a little too obvious. And on some occasions, it is and can seem over stylised and convoluted. Suspiria’s narrative may be simple but this works in favour of Argento’s camera angles, filters, score, along with a supernatural theme he brings to the genre in this film. Compared to the likes of his 1982 film Tenebre, which has a narrative that becomes confusing and overzealous.

As for the score, Goblin supply a constant headache of sharp pains with croaky old ladies singing a kind of lullaby that gets louder and louder until it crescendos in explosions of heavy bass. They also guide us through the narrative, even in parts of the film where no music is used, making it that little bit more confronting and awkward, leaving us unprepared for the terror that waits.

Although, some viewers laughed at random and admittedly cheesy parts of the movie, it only helped highlight the other moments of deathly silence and the shocked gasps. Adding to the excitement of seeing it at the theatre, the Astor cat, Marzipan, also made a few of the audience members jump when he ran up the isle towards the door during the closing moments of Suspiria’s showdown.

For viewers that have seen Suspira and ones that haven’t, it’s not just an ordinary horror film or typically Giallo. It’s a film with many layers that uses the clever angles of Hitchcock, some themes from Polenski’s Rosemary’s Baby, whilst utilizing off key timing and litres of blood to make this a cut above the rest and introduced a form a of Art house Horror to cinema.

Piranha is back, bigger, bustier but not better.

Following on from Joe Dante and James Cameron comes Director Alexandre Aja’s (who also re- made Wes Craven’s The Hills Have Eyes) re-boot of Piranha in 3D and goes with a ‘bigger’ means ‘better’ aesthetic as seen with us of porn stars Kelly Brock and Riley Steele, its use of cameos and litres upon litres of blood.

Piranha sets up its opening sequence with homage to Jaws, additional to the fact that its theatrical poster looks suspiciously similar, using Richard Dreyfuss in the role of Matt Boyd. Boyd is fishing in his boat when a sudden earthquake that splits the lake floor and causes a whirlpool.  Boyd falls into the water and is ripped apart by a school of piranha’s contrasts the end of Jaws (1975), in which he is also in a watery situation, but survives. After this eye opening scene, Piranha sets up its introductory of Jake Forester (Steven R. McQueen), a typically awkward teenage and son of Sheriff Julie Foster (Elizabeth Shue). While scoping out the local talent on spring break he conveniently meets soft porn director Derrick Jones (Jerry O ‘Connell) who convinces Forester to be of location scout in his new film and introduced to the porn stars Danni (Brock) and Crystal (Steel).

Piranha's plot is divided into two main threads and crosses between them, Jake who represents teenagers having fun on spring break and Julie who represents police authority and is used to contrast the teenager’s fun. Thus, the narrative moves back to its opening location and its homage to Jaws this time with Sheriff Forester and Deputy Fallon (Ving Rhames) investigating Boyd’ mutilated body. As Forrester falls into the water, the camera travels similarly to the opening scene of Jaws, looking up from the surface, from a piranha’s perspective, arousing our suspicions whether they will in fact strike again. Continuing their investigation a team of seismologist divers’ are used to reveal thousands of piranha eggs embedded underwater and further to their luck obtain a lose piranha specimen allowing them to introduce marine biologist Carl Goodman (Christopher Lloyd), who provides all the relevant answers. The scene fills in background information regarding the species using 80’s nostalgia, provides fun and credibility amongst the masses, but seems in this case to overstate its homage.

Piranha’s use of a determined female protagonist has been set up in all three occasions beginning with an insurance officer, a diving instructor and in this case a sheriff, depicting their struggles of informing other of the truth. In both Piranha (Dante, 1978) and Piranha II: The Spawning (Cameron, 1981) the truth is kept quiet from the public by the military and a resort owner respectively, for their own personal gain.  In these cases we share empathy towards the public as they continue to swim unaware of what has been kept from them. Piranha is a different story, the obnoxious teenagers on spring break don’t seem too care or listen to Forester’s advice meaning their death sequences have less impact, enabling a strong focus on the gore. Perhaps a problem in contemporary horror, is the use of excruciating stereotypes that has you cheering on during the death scenes rather than having any sympathy towards the characters.  Yes, it works with the genre but at times loses its value becoming sterile and the loss of life is less problematic for the viewer.

Unfortunately I did not see Piranha in 3D; I think I would have appreciated its enhanced techniques and clever camera tricks guiding us through the familiar waters of the Piranha franchise. At the end of the day there is something I like more about 80’s boobs rather than obvious plastic ones.

GREY SWAN

I had avoided any sort of press release, critiques or social banter surrounding Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan and wanted to limit my expectations following his highly acclaimed film The Wrestler.

Wow…… is one way of describing it, the next creepy… and finally was that really Winona Ryder.

Aronofsky creates an uncomfortable atmosphere through a behind the scenes look into the world of a Ballerina.  Through the use of camera angles much like The Wrestler (2008), initially hand held, he makes the whole experience a gritty rendition as his camera stalk’s both Randy “The Ram” Robinson (Mickey Rourke) and Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman). Both films create a physical and emotional effect with their use of uncomfortable close ups and bodily sound effects. As for one suffering for their art, Portman herself sustained a rib injury during the filming which works as an underlining metaphor to her character Nina.  Portman is treated in a particular scene, inviting the audience to experience the uncomfortable pushes and pokes of a real physician as we develop an understanding of the their physical side effects.

Black Swan follows Nina’s home life with her mum Erica Sayers (Barbara Hershey) also, once a ballerina. Building on its narrative with tension through Erica’s strict, and rather creepy parenting, is done accordingly after we witness that Nina is still being tucked into bed . The cinematography captures her imprisonment through narrow shots, creating a claustrophobic mise-en-scène with fluffy toys and ballerina memorabilia. Their home is painted in sickly pink tones and resembles a place of innocence, but the narrative provokes uncertainty as it begins to focus on the physiological effects this world has on Nina. Outside of this, the film follows Nina at a New York Ballet academy auditioning for the school’s production of Swan Lake where the lead is required to have both the innocence of the White Swan and the sensuality of the Black Swan.

The narrative continues to explore Nina’s personality from a physical and physiological point of view when her director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassell) only sees Nina as the White Swan and instead her understudy Lily (Mila Kunis) as the Black Swan, the atmosphere of the film then becomes heavily built upon Nina’s personality. Not knowing if you feel sorry or unsure of Nina’s motivation is almost structured through episodic and clever use of cinematography; fairy floss innocence contrasted with a disciplined ballet institution which uses darker tones adding to the stages of becoming the Black Swan.

The constant use of mirrors add to its psychological depth, perhaps playing on psychoanalytical theorist Jacques Lacan’s notion of the ‘mirror stage’, a fundamental stage which involves a dual relationship between the real and the imaginary. This could be seen to be explored in Nina’s process of becoming the Black Swan. Leaving emotional uncertainly in the viewer as we piece together the reality, which is without doubt, that Nina suffered greatly for her art.

As for the character Beth Macintyre (Winona Ryder), although she makes brief appearances, they are just enough to enhance the dual layers of the narrative and make you reevaluate much during the final stages of this surreal masterpiece.

What Thing?

Who Goes There was the basis for 1951 film The Thing from Another World, by Howard Hawks, remade in 1982 by John Carpenter as The Thing. However, I cannot compare the two versions, but I can reflect on The Thing’s stylized body gore which can be seen similarly to the works of David Cronenberg reflecting a mixture of profound grotesqueness and surreal beauty. The Thing became a benchmark in cinema history for its use of horror, Sci-fi and western themes of conflict and isolation; it is also noted as Carpenter’s favorite.

The film is situated around a group of isolated scientists in the Antarctic who discover an alien organism that can take over and imitate other living bodies, and in this case the thing does so unbeknown to the viewer, molding himself into one of the scientists and infiltrating the group. In not knowing who the thing has actually embodied, the narrative builds its tension and paranoia as the group increasingly suspects each other.  Among the pack is R.J. MacReady played by Kurt Russell who forcefully takes charge as a leader using violence as the only way of ensuring survival. Exploring a sense of uncertainty in the narrative Russell becomes the framework of a problematic character.

The Thing is the fourth film shot by cinematographer Dean Cundey (following Carpenter's Halloween, The Fog and Escape from New York) and much of its atmosphere is created with his clever camera angles, as the camera sets up its ‘whodunit’ scenario following each character with disbelief. This is helped with its uneasy, bleak musical score composed by Enio Morricone (who collaborated with the likes of Sergio Leone and Brian de Palma) making the finally showdown of The Thing an unforgettable nightmare.