When Dario Argento calls "Inferno" a difficult movie, he ain't kidding. It's a feast for the eyes that's easily on par with his most acclaimed work, but also a narrative train wreck loaded with nonsense. I'd have less of a problem accepting the free-association nightmare logic of the film if Argento didn't feebly try to make it coherent (in the works of David Lynch/Cronenberg, things are far more intriguing the less they're explained). It also doesn't help that all of the characters are so thinly-defined they barely exist, and that our American lead (Leigh McCloskey) spends the film looking as confused as most viewers will be. "Inferno" is the second part of a trilogy begun by 1977's "Suspiria" (and concluded by this year's "Mother of Tears"), and in some aspects, Argento seems to be mimicking the visual (lots and lots of blue-to-red lighting schemes) and musical (Goblin is replaced by Keith Emerson) cues that made that film so successful. And while "Inferno" is punctuated by many wonderfully surreal and ambiguous setpieces (a chase through a library; a rodent feeding frenzy during a lunar eclipse; a search for keys in a submerged catacomb), the film lacks the efficiency and flow of Argento's best films, instead taking a more contemplative approach to the mythos of "The Three Mothers." While these elements make for an interesting view, the lack of a relatable human anchor ultimately keeps "Inferno" from achieving greatness.
