Remake registers little suspense and mystery
With politics, history and feminism shoehorned into a narrative more tightly constrained than a pair of ill-fitting dance shoes, Suspiria, the remake of Dario Argento’s 1977 cult classic, is a loud thud of a movie. Sure, it’s still punctuated by the thump-thumping sounds of witchy heels echoing through labyrinthine corridors as in the original. But the dense sound of Luca Guadagnino’s remake registers little suspense and mystery.
Argento’s masterpiece is a mash-up of occult obsessions, a saturated-colour palette, and other gory, gushy Giallo gems. It chronicles the detective work of an U.S. ballet student (Jane Harper), who finds an underground coven of witches responsible for her German dance-school’s string of inexplicable deaths and horrors. Jugular-chewing dogs, ornate, colourful chambers which serve little purpose, and an inimitable hair-raising score by progrock band Goblin all give shape to Argento’s film. The story doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but that aligns with the Italian filmmaker’s vision of style over substance. Its simplicity is well-earned.
By contrast, fellow countryman Guadagnino is a soulful, earthy filmmaker, best known for the Oscar-award-winning film Call Me By Your Name. Given that Suspiria is one of the most visually distinct movies ever made, it’s obvious Guadagnino worked very hard to ensure the remake looks and feels nothing like it. No Snow White-red vivacity here; it’s all muddy, muted colours, which serve its setting of 1977 Berlin quite well, as East-West tensions paint a historically facile backdrop intended to imbue Suspiria with more doom and gloom than it can handle. Thom Yorke’s ghostly score lends a lugubrious air to the film’s tone.
Tilda Swinton plays haughty, visionary dance instructor Madame Blanc who finds a rare talent in new red-haired American student Susie (Dakota Johnson), at the Markos Dance Academy. Meanwhile, elderly psychiatrist Dr. Josef Klemperer (Swinton again), takes over the role of detective as he tries to piece together the scribbled ramblings of his missing patient, dance student Patricia (Chloë Grace Moretz).
Later in the film, he’s traumatized for life and told off for never believing in his patients’ delusions, which tragically ruined his love life. Yet one can’t help but feel like this is a last-minute throwaway subplot intended to make the movie somehow more feminist, by pointing out his professional gaslighting. Unlike in the original, Susie actually welcomes the attention from her hero, Blanc, and ignores all the strange occurrences in the studio.