Andrew ❦’s review published on Letterboxd:
“I know who I am!”
Suspiria is a story about rebirth — making way for change, no matter how hard it can be. Rickety sways toward growth, and desperate jumps for hope. Memories vanished, and histories faded. Power can be used for good, and good can be used to trump evil. In the right hands.
“We need guilt, Doctor. And shame. But not yours.”
This was made for a rewatch. Aspects I previously disliked I now either love, or simply appreciate. I realize now that what things turned me off did so based on my original expectations, which I should have pushed away. But watching the film again as I already knew the story was incredibly pleasing. It was a surprisingly easy watch, the second time around. It's still heavy, and you need to be in the right headspace; but knowing what's lurking ahead, it all feels right. There is a striking trail of breadcrumbs along the way here. Perfectly ambiguous signs towards the "reveal" in glances, touches and visions. I also picked up on more symbolisms, and even references to the original.
Every shot is valuable. Every line of dialogue, and every movement, serves a purpose. Suspiria is choreographed with care and concentration, and a deep love. Allegories and metaphors, style and substance both over the top... Whether it be the exploration of a coven, or snapshots of national tragedies, everything adds up, and is tightly knit. It all works together like a complex dance routine that just won't quit. Rhythmic, poetic, awe-inspiring.
Suspiria will be written about for years, and still there will be things left to say about it. It is a psychosexual, macabre horror masterpiece. It's also a beautiful, merciful political triumph. A transcendent, classic yet timely, piece of art. A dream that feels like it should be forgotten, but never will. We're its bare naked witness; shivering cold, but not withering in despair.