The Sound of Red: Suspiria (1977)

This movie operates like a song. The soundtrack tracks this movie with intricate beats per minute that allow for remarkable engagement. The utterly ominous and scary tranquility through pictures of horror created by the Greek 'Bouzouki' instrument is hair-raising. I adore movies that function using a main theme sprinkled thoroughly. It creates such a memorable mood for the viewer and makes for a remarkable choral experience. Another fantastic addition was the tabla, establishing such a neat and spicy sense of drama and a focus on deliberate composure that is the cornerstone of this film. Thereafter, the rhythmic intensity it welcomed dances on the edges of your heart. Just the immediate heightened nature of a scene is so satisfying to overtly feel; and alluring to witness. The resultant operatic nature and rhythm of the movie is an enticing prism that I truly want to be a part of. 

Next up. the visuals. The dusky, velveteen, crisp-red saturation of the picture makes for an oh, so stark sense of alertness and evil. The red is obviously symbolic, but never have I seen such an abundant and unapologetic penetration into the creases of a film. It simply produces a beautiful spectacle that is orchestrated in a feathery, heavy thudding flow. The walls are red, and the gore is red. Especially after that opening scene, where the exuberant massacre of two girls is graphic and horribly macabre using the menacing and striking technique of showing the horrendous crimes of the witches i.e., repeatedly stabbing the actual, physical heart! *shivers* 

Not only is the cinematography amazing, but the direction results in brilliant captures of reaction and enables something to be kept from the characters and audience alike. One interesting shot was the focus on Olga's back during the front door conversation between The Cute Guy and Suzy, creating such a mischievous and suspicious encounter and perhaps suggesting Olga to be evil. The movie, furthermore, is so well-structured. The setting, I cannot praise enough. Horror movies can survive in good settings. The wide shots were so tasty to view and complimented the graphic and hypnotic backgrounds that immensely elevated all scenes alike.

I highly respect how this picture owns its exaggerated nature of portrayal, which honestly is so greatly needed in movies, especially horror. I thought this movie was genuinely scary, with its pacing and graphic scenes. The main character was almost a mouthpiece for us, in the sense that she found out everything with us. The slick 'witches' introduction, where everything faded to black is an example of this. The idea is quite unexpected, at least it was for me, so it is acutely jarring and a dramatic turning point for the film. It's also when Suzy becomes noticeably more involved. This is quite an interesting concept. Yes, she is still around and involved before this, like feeling weak, and we know she is the hero, but the latter half is where I feel she transforms into the quintessential protagonist. Now everything surrounds her as opposed to just being a suspicious or outside observer. To me, she is used quite efficiently. It's like they are saving her charm for the final act when she finally stops eating the food and confronts the mystery which is quite liberating and essentially, very classic. It's the natural chain the film tried to create. Before Suzy, Sara plays the 'main' role of coming up with theories and observing something fishy going on. Before Sara, Pat (the intro girl) was the main threat to the witch coven. Just as one discovers something and is killed off, it is passed unto the next until finally, someone ends it once and for all. 

The ending scene, for me, is one of the most memorable ones I've ever seen. It shouts 'iconic' to me. As Suzy, our hero, fights off everyone and saves the day in electrifying cacophony, the place burns down and the coven falters to their final and epic demise. The film ends by giving us such an earnest depiction of the human instinct. A smile of relief. She isn't brooding or looking intense. She is just in a massive moment of relief that she isn't dead, that she somehow ended the evil. This is vastly different from what I have normally seen in movies before. The smile isn't cliched like looking at each other 'We're alright now' or 'We did it together.' It is just a glimpse of utter liberation. But this feeling would not be achieved if it weren't for the intensity of the tension and horror, we and Suzy experience thus far. 

I also weirdly enjoyed the dubbed sound of the dialogue, famous in Italian filmmaking. It really suited the movie and heightened the baleful, dreamy, and displaced nature of everything. It felt like a great idiosyncrasy for a movie to have and well, Dario Argento is Italian, so it makes sense. It worked like a charm and was quite good for the film. Also, can we talk about how perfect the duration of this film is?

A Retro-Futuristic Tragedy: Le Samouraï (1967)

 A mellow noir journey through Paris, France. Jef Costello is eternally alone in a city of 10 million people. Every shot showcases this idea so brilliantly by making clever use of a variety of empty spaces -- walls, buildings, streets. His apartment is significant to this. Even in crowded scenes, the direction is so intimately narrowing on him. His silhouetted, enigmatic, dark charm is so infectious to watch. His eyes reveal secrets buried deep within the character. "What kind of man are you?" Perhaps the question that leads to his actions at the end; an endless pondering of what led him here and how he has affected those he touches. The solitude is truly his to bear.

 Despite the lack of words he utters, his stoic resilience to everything around him burdens a sadness and a heaviness on our anti-hero. He permanently changes his discourse as he takes out his final hit for which he got paid four million -- himself. A man who has never allowed anyone to get too close to him unveils a brilliant show of self-awareness. He knows what he does and its potential consequences. He keeps his distance. 

The calculatedness, cleverness, and coolness of the writing are purposefully perfect for the effortless atmosphere the film strives for. It's like a classic jazz song. Jef doesn't speak much, but when he does, every classic crime dialogue nods in synchronous approval. 

I love films where the setting is a character on its own. And this neo-noir does it to perfection. The futuristic club 'Martey's,' especially, is so well designed that it sparklingly complements the chase of the film, the beginning of the plot, and its final demise. The interior is a mesmerizing view; it adds so much personality and ambiance but also serves as a detachment from Costello himself.   It's a striking contrast to his quaint, muted apartment that may be as lifeless as he looks. But I don't blame him, it's a tough world. The club specifically resonates a three-dimensional piece of art with a warning sign of "Do Not Touch." And I mean, I would be afraid to anyway. The elements of futurism are recurring and are such an interesting and purposeful choice. I'm simply enamored by it. The lounge of a space-like atmosphere inhabits a silken, sulking mystery that breeds questions and facilitates this lonesome tragedy.

Eventually, even the technology becomes a character during Costello's intense and intricate chase (which is one of the best chases of all time). It feels rather intentional as the camera pans from the dozen tails to the retro-GPS tracking device to an increasingly paranoid Jef Costello who is trying to identify who is who. This portrayal feels so eccentric and purpose-rendered for plot, drama, and thrill as it notably does not have any accompanying music, just dread. 

Such a slick film, exploring the many degrees of the great solitude that our Samourai has to bear, and the incredible disdain it sprinkles thoroughly around the movie. I love colours so much, but I am still floored at muted colours being used so distinctly and meaningfully and at the existence of saturation in this. It is stylistically whole. This has got to be a paragon of how to not make a film look like a desaturated bore. You can still communicate themes of doom, loneliness, and sadness using your brown, grey, black, and white and combining them with design, shades, and a whole lotta expression. Through marvelous scenic and character direction, wonderfully reserved and mystery-driven acting, and the spectacular cinematography of light and shadows, this film not only looks so breathtaking but is narratively alluring.