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| Images courtesy of Synapse Films |
Tenebrae may be Dario
Argento’s finest achievement as a storyteller. You’ll notice I said
“storyteller” and not “filmmaker.” While visual masterpieces like Suspiria and Inferno will
leave you with images burned into your retina for the rest of your life,
compounded by the variety of memorable kills and scares, no one could honestly
look you in the eye and summarize their respective plots with any degree of
accuracy. You ask ten people to explain Inferno, you’ll get ten
different answers, but oh my good God, it is hauntingly beautiful to look
at!
Plot is always beside
the point when sitting down to enjoy any classic Argento. Then along
comes Tenebrae, filmed by Luciano Tovoli, the same gifted cinematographer
whose images haunted our nightmares in Suspiria, and co-written by Argento
with George Kemp. Is it Kemp’s influence that makes this the most narratively
successful of Argento’s works? Or was this Argento attempting to play in tune
for audiences looking for more than moody atmosphere from their Italian
maestro? Perhaps you’ll find out in the bonus features on this gorgeous UHD
transfer from Synapse Films. I guarantee you this movie has never looked this
good before. Colors scream, the grain levels are perfect, and aside from some
organic flaws in the title cards, it looks truly impeccable!
Peter Neal is played by Anthony Franciosa as a
man repulsed and intrigued in equal measure by the perversion of his work into a
killer’s calling card. He cooperates with the investigation not out of
philanthropy, but sheer opportunism, referring to himself in the third person
as he imagines the headlines that could result from solving the mystery. An
author of fictional sleuthing gets it right in the real world? It’s a public
relations wet dream. Echoes of this character must have informed Rob Zombie’s
iteration of Sam Loomis.
All the while Argento
populates the screen with a supporting cast that includes genre legends like
John Saxon and Daria Nicolodi, plus a gallery of potential victims and
perpetrators to keep us guessing whodunnit and who's next. One femme fatale,
dressed all in white (another Kim Novak costuming homage a la Vertigo?)
remains a mystery until the film’s closing scenes. While the actors are center
stage, Argento tosses us some surrealistic flashbacks involving another woman
in red high heels. Who is this woman and who is remembering her? You’ll find
out. In the meantime, enjoy a virtuoso crane shot that follows two arguing
women from outside their home.
The camera peers through glass, goes in and out
of open windows, scales the whole house, tilts into a closeup of the rooftop
before plunging down two stories, giving us the entire layout of the setting
before revealing a killer on the cusp of his next adventure. It’s a stunning
scene, scored to perfection by Claudio Simonetti, whose music is all the more
beautiful thanks to Synapse’s flawless rendering of the soundscape. With the
synergy of the music, the images, and the sheer tension, Argento succeeds in
turning his audience into an omnipresent voyeur, powerless to stop the
impending doom on screen.
It would all be for
nothing if the plot held water like a pasta strainer. Lucky for us, Tenebrae is
the closest to airtight plotting that Argento has ever written. There are
enough twists and turns to keep you hooked all the way through, and it all
culminates with a coda so shockingly violent and gruesome that it almost blows
the roof off the joint. While Argento is known for the merciless lethality of
his kills, he shows remarkable restraint until the last act of Tenebrae.
Many of the killing blows in the first two-thirds are cut with sound and clever
editing; it’s very Hitchcockian and effective. Then comes the dark and stormy
night that ends the film, and all bets are off. This scene is so blood soaked
and smashing, it’s all but guaranteed it inspired the gunshot decapitation
in Drive.
--Blake O. Kleiner