Pagan Poetry. I'll admit, I spent the opening minutes braced in a state of bodily resistance. 'Chloë Grace Moretz wet as a dog in the rain? Thom Yorke's vocal warbling? This isn't my Suspiria!' But the film ultimately casts its own spell, and—not unlike Cronenberg's "The Fly" or Carpenter's "The Thing"—justifies its existence as a remake through sheer force of vision. The ending's blood red revolution will be hard to shake.
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