Tropic Sprockets / Suspiria

By Ian Brockway

Dario Argento’s cult film “Suspiria” (1977) is a pop art tour de force for its wonderfully vivid saturated lighting and its bold color. In its kitschy pedestrian dialogue and its gore that resembles thick acrylic paint it is a product of its time and almost an Andy Warhol period piece. It also owes a smidgeon to “The Exorcist” with its eerie tubular bells track and its sweet faced heroine Susie (Jessica Harper). The original film is a classic for its bold design and its deadpan delivery.

Now here is Luca Guadagnino’s remake of the film based on Argento’s screenplay.

Dakota Johnson takes on the role of the iconic Susie Bannion that Harper made so recognizable. Fear not. There are no falling sheets of maggots or stubborn vampire bats to be seen. But get ready, there are other frights, mostly in the realm of body horror.

It is 1977 in Berlin. Patricia (Chloë Grace Moretz) can’t sleep, so she resolves to seek the aid of Dr. Klemperer (Tilda Swinton) who writes in his journal that the poor girl suffers from delusions.

In flashbacks we see Susie sweat and sputter and knot her body all for the cause of Art or “Volk,” the dance company’s production under the black eyed stare of chain smoking instructor (also played by Swinton, who inhabits three roles, including the fearsome Mother Markos).The sheer amount of smoking that goes on is malevolent and comical.

During one rehearsal, dancer Olga (Elena Fokina) rebels and attempts to cause a ruckus. Unfortunately, from this point on Olga experiences some shocking bodily occurrences that defy description. In the midst of these jarring sights, there is repeated mention of the Baeder Meinhof Group that led protests against consumerism and Vietnam. Classmates are disappearing.

Both Susie and her roommate Sara (Mia Goth) know things are very wrong but they are powerless to stop them, often distracted by rehearsal demands.

Susie sees a lot, including a hypnotized security guard whose penis is exposed to the delight of the instructors who tease his genitals with a meat hook, but somehow she carries on dancing as usual.

In some ways this new version is more philosophical than the original. The aspect of Third Reich guilt, paganism and the RAF-Meinof Group combined with black magic is very compelling. But these aspects seem incidental, almost anecdotal, and are not fully explained.

The core of the film focuses on covens and a variety of uncomfortable body transformations from neck and jaw wrenchings to abdominal tumors that border on disgust.

The transformations are paired with a fair amount of provocative dancing that never fails to intrigue. The rhythmic motion sequences alone combined with Swinton herself (in another weird outing) are two reasons to see the film. Be vigilant for the sight of Jessica Harper in cameo as Klemperer’s wife Anke.

On the whole however, this homage loses the minimalist punch of the first film with its new Cronenberg terrors of mangled torsos, flaccid flesh, putrid boils and incarnadine eviscerations. The beautiful saturations of Argento are now the gray monochromes of Berlin. In parallel, we are now under the weight of an administration that believes criticism is an act that ruins lives. Point taken. From the Pop of 1977 to the reality show order of 2018.

Guadagnino should be rightly applauded for his commentary, but with all of the screaming, wrenching and gore, a little goes a long way.

The new “Suspiria” is more a Caligulan orgy, overwhelmed by pustules and bloody flesh than the Warholian cabal where cadmium red once splattered across the floor like a painting by Jackson Pollock.

Write Ian at [email protected]

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