Environment and history drowned in the dark, painted with cold and dread. Vibrancy reserved only for brief pulses of supernatural blood-vomit; instead of an Argento neon-ballet, Guadagnino drenches the narrative in a miserable, hanging specter. There's no refuge from the nightmare, not when dreams are abstract horror-collages, not when your surroundings are inhabited by monsters, and not when history continues to be dictated by allowed evils.

And that's maybe this film's most surprising (and divisive) element: witches are only an offshoot of festering darkness, their victims a manifestation of continued historical apathy, especially because of the refusal of men to simply believe women. We promise to prevent future atrocity, but we stare into current holocaust with blinders and hypocrisy.

Crafted with patient, slithering unease and exploding with nausea-filled horror, bodies are contorted and images are pregnant with dreamy annihilation. Guadagnino borrowing more from Zombie's The Lords of Salem than the original Suspiria; addictions to ignorance leading to repeated mayhem. We see evil right in front of our fucking faces and we welcome it because we're too scared or foolish to listen to memory's screams.

-Thom Yorke murdering us

-Dakota Johnson reviving us and murdering us again