Thought I'd share this with you guys. This is the first part of a term paper I'm doing for my rhetorical criticism class. Keep in mind, this isnt my opinion yet - just reviewing what others have said. Its not complete (I want to get my hands on McDonagh's
Broken Mirrors, Broken Minds, and then I have the problem statement and the actual review to do) but this is what I have so far.
Steven Rowand
3/10/2009
Rhetorical Criticism
Literature Review
Considering how many filmmakers today, particularly those of the horror genre, claim to have been influenced by Dario Argento, it is unsurprising that a great deal of study has gone into his work. Critics and Film theorists such as Maitland McDonagh and Alan Jones have explored his cultural impact, as well as thematic concerns, and the “style over substance” technique for which he is most often recognized. In spite of his often puzzling and unclear narratives (or, rather, because of them), interpretations of his work focus more on the visual, starting from his giallo (a 1970’s genre of Italian mystery/slasher films focusing on sex, violence and highly stylized set pieces) to his later gothic horrors.
Much of the criticism directed towards Argento’s work has been based around feminist theory. This is not surprising, considering the openly erotic nature of the way women in gialli are depicted, even in comparison to later American work (although differences in the level of censorship play a major factor). Dario himself has stated “I like women, especially beautiful ones. If they have a good face and figure, I would much prefer to watch them being murdered, rather than an ugly girl or man (Guins, 147).”
Feminist film theorists such as Carol Clover have pointed to this comment as evidence of the reliance of women as victims, with men typically in the role of aggressor. The ironic factor, as Knee notes, is that Argento’s work often flouts the expectations of gender placed on slasher films. Both sexes are killed, and the deaths of male characters are given as much attention as that of women, albeit less frequently. Moreover, women are just as often depicted as murderers as men. Often the killer’s sex, number (as in
Deep Red, in which a supposed single killer is found to be a deranged mother aided by her sons, or in
Suspiria, which features a coven of witches working in concert) or even species (for much of
Phenomena, a chimpanzee owned by Donald Pleasance’s character is suspected of his murder) remains unknown until the final act (Knee, 216).
Gunis argues that since both men and women are portrayed as murderers, this is representative of male and female fighting over control of the phallus, inasmuch as the phallus is represented by the knife, as per Creed’s theory that stabbing in the horror film is a substitute for the sex act. Furthermore, Gunis uses Freud’s theories of fetishism, as well as Creed’s theories of female abjection, to explain how Argento uses his camera to place the viewer into the center of madness, inflicting visual torment on both his characters and the audience. In the film
Opera (aka Terror at the Opera), young singer Betty is bound, gagged, and has needles placed under her eyes, in order to force her to watch as the killer brutally murders someone in front of her. Gunis notes:
"We are nearly as subject to Argento’s willful gaze as Betty is to Santini’s sadism. Under this analysis, Creed (1993) would be correct in noting that horror films which promote identification foster a masochistic form of looking. Because Argento draws the viewer into his film and, once in, punishes them for watching. The spectating subject as associated with the cinematic apparatus witnesses the killer’s deeds while his or her field of vision is inflated to construct and maintain the masculine gaze (Guins, 145). "
Even more puzzling than the narratives of the gialli are those of Argento’s gothic horrors. Dispensing with everyday logic (very much so in the case of the first and third, completely in the case of the second), the films
Suspiria,
Inferno, and
La Terza Madre form what is known among fans of Dario’s work as the three mothers trilogy. The trilogy, which was inspired by the prose poem
Levana and our Ladies of Sorrow by Thomas De Quincey, concerns three evil women/demigoddesses who, from their dwelling places in New York, Rome and Freiburg, rule the world with darkness, tears and sighs.
In her examination of
Suspiria, Schulte-Sasse notes that, although it shares the same brand of artificiality as the sort of Disney fairytale it is meant to emulate, particularly in terms of its use of bright colors and stylized locales, the film inverts whatever stability that a film such as Snow White may provide, and instead serves to unnerve the viewer. Many proxies of folklore exist, including the innocent protagonist, helpers who show the way, and the three villainesses, including none other than the main antagonist, Helena Markos. Schulte-Sasse also considers the film as a political allegory, citing instances, such as the German setting and comparing the concept of witchcraft (described by Professor Milius in the film as a malefic desire for money and power) with fascism:
"What was National Socialism if not a historical version of what the witches achieve on a seemingly apolitical level: a systematic reign of surveillance and paranoia, a disciplining of the body and social behavior (those punished in Suspiria are the ones with a “strong will”), a process of selecting who belongs to the “we” and elimination of who does not (Schulte-Sasse, 5,6). "
Castricano finds that
Inferno, easily the least coherent of the three films, functions as a sort of commentary on the act of filmmaking as a whole. Critics have often judged the lack of plot, as well as the terrible acting (comments that could be leveled at many of Argento’s works), however, what the work lacks in plot it makes up for in visual style. Once again, we are in fairytale territory, in this case a Hansel and Gretel nightmare, with a male main character searching for his lost sister in a house of horrors. Characters have bizarre conversations that make little sense. The ending, which has the hero facing off against a fake plastic skeleton that appears to have been hijacked from a medieval morality play, is, at least, according to Castricano, meant to be a poke at the smoke and mirrors of the film industry.
Works Cited
1. Barry Keith Grant and Creed, Barbara. “Horror and the Monstrous Feminine: An Imaginary Abjection.”
The Dread of Difference. Texas University Press, Austin. 1996. 35-63
2. Barry Keith Grant and Knee, Adam. “Gender, Genre, Argento.”
The Dread of Difference. Texas University Press, Austin. 1996. 213-230
3. Andy Black and Guins, Ray. “Tourtured Looks: Dario Argento and Visual Displeasure.”
Necronomicon: Book One. Clerkenwell Books, London, 1996
4. Castricano, Jodey. “For the love of Smoke and Mirrors: Dario Argento’s Inferno.” kinoeye.10 June 2002. 9 March 2009.
http://www.kinoeye.org/02/11/castricano11.php 5. Schulte-Sasse, Linda. “The ‘Mother’ of all horror movies: Dario Argento’s Suspiria.” kinoeye. 10 June 2002. 9 March 2009.
http://www.kinoeye.org/02/11/schultesasse11.php 
