Suspiria ★★★★½

Watched this with my Dad this time. ... It was certainly an experience. We had a discussion afterward in which he essentially expressed to me that he appreciates what the movie appears to be going for, but also that it’s maybe a little too out-there for him in terms of how it arrives at those places. Basically, I think he respects it but admits it isn’t totally his bag. Which is one-hundred percent fine and a conversation worth having.

Not a lot of Dads would be willing to take chances on 152-minute arthouse horror films just because their son’s a weirdo who insists they’ve gotta see it at least once just for its uniqueness. Mine does and, in this case, did. For that (and so many other reasons), I love him so much. I don’t know how different I’d be if my Dad hadn’t nurtured my love of cinema by showing me the movies he loved as I was growing up. I feel so blessed that he lets me try and return the favor occasionally, even if the results can often be mixed.

This isn’t so much a review of the film as it is a review of why this particular time viewing it felt special. It’s special because I don’t take my overall quite good relationship with my father for granted, as I know a lot of people have toxic relationships with their own. It’s probably strange to remark upon this in regards to this film, but for some reason it really hit me right before sitting down to type this up, and I felt that commenting on it, preserving it somewhere, was an important thing to do.