Suspiria ★★

The film this new Suspiria made me think the most as weird as it might sounds is Clint Eastwood's Pale Rider, a remake/homage to Stevens' Shane, that manages to both coming from a respectful even loving place while destructuring and rewriting most of it. Both Argento's Suspiria and Shane are mythical texts, near abstract essential takes on their respective genres and both Eastwood and Guadagnino revisions are annoited expansions on them. How one feel about each of those revisions boils down to a set of aesthetic preferences, so when I say that new Suspiria plays to me as mostly unwatchable garbage, I'm very willing to concede that says as much about me as about the movie. There is a mad daring rework here, it just happens to be one whose every choice feels to me between misguided and just plain wrong. The attempts on grounding the action on history in particular feel very bad (and the less said for the final memification of Tilda Swilton the better). In a different note, the film tries a transference of a very Italian ideal of sensorial excess towards German brutalism. I find the movement dull, but a curious one. It plays off a tendency on Guadagnino of dealing with the surface pleasures of color, light and place while often ofering a counter-productive cliff notes comentary on them. Suspiria is all commentary on Argento, the ideological forces behind Euro horror and Guadagnino own aesthetical choices. A report more than a movie.

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