Luca Guadagnino's reimagining of "Suspiria" follows the same core plot trajectory as Argento's original film, detailing an American dancer who finds herself a fish out of water at a German dance academy run by witches. Where Argento's film was an acid-trip fairytale erring on Disney-like horror, Guadagnino's rendition of this story is an ambitious period piece underpinned by the political tumult of 1977 Germany.
I saw the original "Suspiria" at thirteen years old, and it has long been among my top-ten favorite horror films. A remake/ reimagining of Argento's film could have been disastrous in the wrong hands, and fortunately there is a thoughtful (albeit sometimes overwrought) screenplay here supported by masterful direction from Guadagnino. This "Suspiria" is not your average horror remake; far from it.
It is a visually breathtaking film in an entirely different way than its predecessor--the color this time muted and pallid, but the attention to detail no less scrupulous. More importantly, it is far more narratively involved, perhaps sometimes too much so for its own good, but it still managed to entirely absorb me. The hefty 150-minute runtime honestly bypassed me in what felt like maybe two hours. The onscreen horrors here are sparse but pack a wallop, leaving the audience time to breathe before assaulting the senses again. The already-infamous first proper horror scene is nearly unspeakable.
It is moments like these where Guadagnino truly strikes gold, entering a rare space between the visceral and the sublime. The proceedings are helped greatly by the performances, with Swinton portraying both the ominous Madame Blanc, as well as taking a gender-bending return to "Orlando" territory as the aging psychotherapist who stumbles into the world of the coven. Johnson turns in a weirdly (though appropriately) detached performance as Susie, while Goth and Moretz are both scene-stealers here as Sara and Patricia; this might be the best work they've done thus far. Elena Fokina, a newcomer, is also particularly strong as Olga.
There has been a lot of discussion surrounding the historical socio-political backdrop of the film, and I do feel that screenwriter Kajganich is sometimes reaching for some correlation or metaphor that never quite coalesces. That being said, the real-world context lends a dour groundwork for the proceedings, and perhaps Kajganich's greatest stroke of genius is his anchoring of the witchcraft in the movements of the body. Where the witchcraft in Argento's film seemed wholly arbitrary, this version contextualizes the magic and ritual as part and parcel of the dances themselves (which are also expertly choreographed and punctuated by Yorke's spacey score).
My single criticism of the film lay in the visual presentation of the finale, which exhibits some slow-motion effects that felt very made-for-TV-movie-ish and diametrically opposed to the artful visuals that precede it. This feels like a betrayal given the abundance of exquisite, stark compositions up to that point, some of which look like they've been lifted directly from Pasolini's "Salo." Despite this, the last hurrah is jaw-dropping in more ways than one, and truly revels in literal blood and guts. A denouement resolving the subplot regarding the psychotherapist follows, which is unexpectedly poignant and conversely chilling in presentation.
All in all, I found very little not to like about Guadagnino's "Suspiria." While it does trip on its own feet in a few areas, it is thoughtfully-imagined, vividly realized, and undoubtedly the most beautiful film I've seen this year. I would also rank it among the best horror films I've seen this decade. If nothing else, it is a truly honorable exploration and worthy heir to its source material. 9/10.
