Moving on from Italian horror films, I am now starting the next phase of this month, which will focus on monster movies. The first up is Tod Browning's Dracula, staring Bela Lugosi. Dracula can be seen as the movie the really kicked off the Universal Studios monster cycle of films than ran until the mid 1950's. The real first monster movie the studio produced was The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923), starring Lon Chaney Sr., but when most people think of Universal Studios monsters, the usually think of it starting with Dracula in 1931. What followed were numerous sequels to the original Dracula, as well as other monster franchises such as Frankenstein and The Wolf Man.
Dracula is loosely based on the novel by Bram Stoker, and opens with a man by the name of Renfield traveling to Count Dracula's castle to discuss the details of a lease on a home in England. Dracula takes Renfield under his power and the two travel to London where Dracula unleashes his terror on the young women of the night. To oppose the monster is Dr. Van Helsing, who knows all about vampires and their weaknesses.
Browning's film is only 75 minutes long, and the whole thing flies by. Clearly influenced by earlier German Expressionist films by F. W. Murnau and Fritz Lang, the entire look of the film is dominated by dark shadows and exaggerated, Gothic set design. It's also worth noting that Murnau himself directed his own, unofficial, adaptation of Stoker's novel; the now famous Nosferatu, starring Max Schreck as Count Orlok.
Lugosi's performance is one of the most legendary in cinematic history, and his interpretation is now synonymous with the character. The slow pace at which he speaks throughout the film adds an eerie and unnatural level to the character without the need for any sort of special effect. At times, it almost produces the same sort of surreal quality found in the films of David Lynch. One of the great film tragedies is that Lugosi struggled to find work throughout the rest of his career, and only once reprised the role of Dracula on film in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948). He did play another notable "vampire" in Todd Browning's own Mark of the Vampire (1935), which is a remake the lost film, London After Midnight (1927). Unfortunately, the film and the performance are not nearly on the same level as Dracula.
Edward Van Sloan does a terrific job as Van Helsing, being able to match Lugosi's own screen presence, which helps to create terrific tension in the scenes that the two share. His calm and calculating nature contrasts well with the uncertainty and panic of all the others on screen. Most of the conflict between Van Helsing and Dracula is a battle of words, rather than strength, and the one scene where Dracula lunges at the doctor is impeccably shot with Van Helsing quickly pulling out a crucifix.
You have no power here!
One other performance that I do not think garners enough attention is that of Dwight Frye as the madman, Renfield. He plays crazy exceptionally well, and never goes too far as to make it a caricature. His wild nature works well against Lugosi's slow and controlled demeanor, making the two a good pair as partners in crime. What really sells his performance, though, is his creepy laugh. It's one of the best laughs in movie history.
Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh...
While perhaps not as grand or memorable as some of the latter Universal Monster movies, Dracula is without question one of the true classics of cinema, if maybe only for Lugosi's legendary portrayal of the monster. There is much to love in this film if you are a fan of monster movies in general, and has enough atmosphere to keep casual audiences engaged.
The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970) Director: Dario Argento
The Bird with the Crystal Plumage is the first film Dario Argento directed, and already some of the signature characteristics of what would become his defining style are present. It's a giallo film, and the one the really shook up the genre and brought it to a new level. While not as overtly violent as Argento's later works, his strong visual style and taste for creative set pieces are present here in his directorial debut.
An American writer named Sam Dalmas is staying in Italy as a sort of way to regain inspiration for his next book. Mere days before he is planning to return home to the States, he witnesses a murder from a distance. The woman who was attacked survives, and Sam is questioned by the police, with the lead detective believing that Sam must have seen a vital detail that can help solve the crime. Sam learns that this is just one attempt in a series of murders that have been taking place in Rome recently. Sam finds himself engrossed in the mystery and takes it upon himself to investigate the crime and find out the identity of the killer.
The writing is solid and Sam is a likable, smart character who is easy to cheer for. The final twist at the end is not particularly predictable and certainly makes one think of a certain Bava film, but to say which one would likely be a spoiler. Nothing feels too fantastic or unbelievable in The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, and it is much more restrained than Argento's latter films.
Early in his career, Dario Argento was often times described as Italy's Alfred Hitchcock, and his films like The Bird with the Crystal Plumage certainly have a Hitchcockian flavor to them. Rear Window (1954) comes to mind while watching The Bird with the Crystal Plumage. In both we take on the perspective of someone else in a morally questionable way. In Argento's film this takes the form of POV shots from the camera of the killer.
See what the killer sees.
Another film that comes to mind is the controversial British film, Peeping Tom (1960), directed by Michael Powell. In this film the viewer takes on the perspective of a the killer himself, and assumes his identity.
As already stated, there are great visual moments in The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, and the first attempted murder in particular stands out. Sam is trapped Obi Wan Kenobi style between two glass walls as he watches a woman on the ground struggling to stay alive. All he can do is watch as she squirms on the ground. Again, like in so many of Argento's films, the act of watching explored and the inability of people to help those who are being attacked.
Sam trying to break free from the glass cage to save a stabbed woman.
The Bird with the Crystal Plumage is a tightly constructed mystery thriller, that takes the tropes of the giallo genre at the time and turns them on their head and pushes them to a new level. It's interesting to see an Argento film that places so much emphasis in narrative coherence, considering in just seven years since directing this picture he goes on to make Suspiria and completely loses himself in films that take people into his nightmares.
Opera is one of the last quality films directed by Dario Argento before he decided that making crap would be better for his career. While the third act is rather sloppy, the rest of the film does a good job of keeping the viewer engaged with red herrings and quality murders that effectively raise the tension, as compared to some of Argetno's previous works.
Opera begins with an elaborate tracking shot, that appears to be the POV of an opera singer, but as if her eyes were in the back of her head. This instantly creates a mild disorienting effect in the viewer. The source of the shots perspective is never revealed, nor is the face of the woman who we are apparently following, leaving us only her voice. She is angrily leaving the opera house because she does not like working with the live crows in the theater. As she walks out she is hit by a car and critically injured. This leads to the production company promoting the understudy, Betty, to the lead of Verdi's Macbeth. A string of murders follow, naturally, but Argento adds an interesting twist to his formula this time around.
It seems that Betty will be the first of the characters to meet their end, but the killer instead ties her to a pillar and tapes a line of pins under each of her eyes. He tells her she must look, or her eyes will be torn off. When someone comes to her help, the killer appears and stabs him to death. Betty is then cut loose, but the murderer is no where to be found.
Don't close your eyes.
The eye-pin mechanic adds a great level of previously lacking tension to the murder. Usually in an Argento film the audience knows that once the knife is out, the poor soul is done for, but here the deaths are not so much about the victim, but the witness, Betty. We feel each of the cuts to closeup of her eyes, as the killer digs his knife into his victim. Unfortunately, Argento uses this setup in almost every death scene in the film, so upon repeated usage it loses almost all of its impact since we know she is not in any real danger.
As suggested already, eyes and vision are a major theme throughout the film. We begin with the tracking shot from a mysterious perspective, and we have our heroine witness each of the murders in a grizzly manner. Shots of closeups on the eyes of crows is a recurring image as well, and a POV shot of a crow is used for an elaborate crane shot at the end of the films second act. Finally, when the murderer is revealed, it is his eyes that are attacked, with one of them being pecked out and eaten by a crow. Argento is perhaps reflecting on the controversy that has always surrounded his films, and his audiences love looking at them.
The acting in Opera is pretty bad across the board, without a single character really giving a believable performance. This is surprisingly easy to look past, however, due to the good pacing of the film and constant teasing of who the killer actually is. The third act is really rather bizarre. I'm not sure if it is terrible, or just strange. The last ten minutes without a doubt is the worst part of Opera, but it isn't so bad that it ruins the whole thing. It just leaves one scratching their head a little.
With Mario Bava'a son, Lamberto Bava, directing, Dario Argento producing, and a script penned by Bava, Argento, Franco Ferrini, and Dardano Sacchetti, my expectations for Demons were somewhat high. Unfortunately, there is not very much to Demons, and the stale characters and thin plot lead to more yawns than shocks.
The film follows a university student named Cheryl, who receives a free ticket to a film screening at a newly renovated movie theater. She goes with her friend, Kathy, and it turns out that tickets were distributed to folks throughout the city. The screening is of a horror film dealing with some sort of mask that turns people into demons. The same mask was on display in the theater lobby, and one women is scratched by it. She becomes a demon and then attacks people, who then also become demons. It's essentially a zombie premise, but without the undead factor. However, if I understood correctly, the theater itself is the source of evil, not the mask, but that is never explained past a character suggesting the idea.
On paper, Demons plays out much like Night of the Living Day (1968). A simple narrative structure, where a group of people are trapped and need to work together to survive. The issue is that everything that happens between demon attacks is completely uninteresting and lacks any sort drama or intrigue. The cause for most of these problems rest in all of the characters within the film. Not only did I not care about them, I actively disliked them. Instead of feeling suspense for their survival, I was praying for their deaths. It's as if someone gathered together all the most popular students at Miami of Ohio and put them in a movie. The one exception is a pretty racist portrayal of a black pimp who takes on the role of group leader early in the film. This guy is so over the top and ridiculous that one just has to love him.
The monster effects are quite good, and satisfyingly graphic. There are multiple shots that encourage vocal reactions from a viewer, and the scene where a character is shown transforming into a demon is particularly good. The music is another strong point, featuring electronic tunes, in addition to rock and heavy metal songs. The music is lively and fun, and certainly gives some of the sequences an added charm.
Ultimately, however, I couldn't help but feel bored while watching Demons. The effects are nice, but Bava's directing is pretty poor, with sloppy blocking, bad acting, with most scenes lacking any sort of gravity. The one exception is a scene where one of the characters rides around the theater on a motorcycle wielding a katana. Demons is worth watching just for that scene.
So here it is:
Inferno (1980) Director: Dario Argento
After not being satisfied with Demons, I decided to watch Argento's film Inferno, a spiritual sequel to Suspiria. The film is the second entry in Argetno's Three Mothers trilogy, with The Mother of Tears (2007) being the third and final installment. While perhaps not as bombastic and striking as Suspiria, Inferno is still a great horror film that has plenty of visual flair and mystery throughout.
The film centers on American college student, Mark Elliot, investigating the mysterious disappearance of his sister in New York City. What he finds is that there is a powerful witch pulling the strings behind everything. Not terribly complicated or nuanced, but the mythology behind the three witches that the audience is given at the beginning of the film ,and built on throughout, is quite interestingm and becomes the most engaging aspect of the story.
In Suspiria the main color motif was red, while Inferno's is blue. The blue creates a much colder feeling in the look of the film, and also a more enigmatic and surreal quality. While Suspiria certainly appeared dreamlike, Inferno takes this even further. The sets that the film were shot on look like sets and one does not actually feel like the film is set in New York. This is a strength, not a weakness, because one truly feels as if they have been transported to some strange world that does not abide by the normal laws of nature. The light sources are often inexplicable, giving different shades of blue to rooms. The entire apartment building is part of the witch, Mater Tenebrarum, and the artificial and overtly constructed nature of the mise-en-scene works to evoke this feeling of a supernatural presence.
The score was not composed by Goblin, which is certainly a disappointment, and Keith Emerson's score creates a markedly different tone. This was intentional on Argento's part, and it is clear that he is trying to work against some of his fans' expectations, especially by not killing a character until 35 minutes into the film. Still, the score simply is not as affecting as the ones by Goblin, although there is one track that is balls to the wall awesome.
Suspiria is set in Munich, Germany, and most of the deaths take place within an interior space. All but for one death, the blind piano player. In addition to being the only exterior death, the scene also has the blandest color pallet, consisting mostly of grays. Also, unlike the other murders, this one is not committed by the mysterious knife wielding hand. Instead, the man's dog turns on him. The interior environments are lush with color and appear surreal, and the murders are committed directly by a hand of the which, while the exterior one requires an assistant, in this case the dog. These stylized interiors can be seen as a sort of surreal world, one existing outside of a parallel real world.
The real world consists of the exterior environments, and are gray. The witches do not have direct power/can't exist within the real world, so the dog must be used to commit the murder. And when this man is attacked by his dog and he screams for help, what happens? Nothing. No one comes to his aid. Throughout Argento's films, no one comes to the aid of the victim until it is far too late. No one seems to be able to hear the screams. That, or people are choosing to ignore them.
The significance of the real world environment in Suspiria of Munich, Germany is drawn from the Holocaust. The atrocities of the concentration camps and ghettos were known in other parts of the world, but were ignored until the last moments of World War II. The use of Nobucco in Inferno then continues this theme of the Holocaust by inciting a story about the suffering of the Jewish people. The genocide of the Nazi's is then mirrored in Argento's films with the elaborate senseless killing of innocent people throughout. Since Italy was a fascist ally of the Germans during World War II, this film can be seen as an expression of guilt for not doing something to end the slaughter.
Why witches? No idea.
The greatest issue with Inferno is that the hero, Mark Elliot, is severely lacking in agency withing the narrative. Most events happen around him without him having any direct effect on their consequences. That doesn't detract from the films strengths, however, and this is a horror film that should be seen.
