Video Nasty #17: Inferno

Ironically, the best horror film i've seen so far this year is from the '70s, but not on the DPP list. Argento's Susperia is a wonderful film, a Technicolor nightmare soundtracked by Satan himself on the keys (AKA Goblin). The film is rightly revered by horror fans because it's so boldly different from anything else in the horror genre; Argento's cinematography is bold, saturating every frame with primary colours to add an otherworldly quality to the horror fairy tale. From the outset the soundtrack is unrelenting, grabbing the viewer and beating them around the head with a constant unnerving drum beat that underlies the whole film. Although Susperia isn't on the list of Video Nasties, the second part of the Three Mothers Trilogy it began, Inferno, is.

As a stand-alone film, Inferno is frustrating. It has moments of brilliance, but these are let down by poor pacing and an almost episodic script. The film repeatedly introduces a character, lets them make an expositional discovery and then kills them off, making it hard to care about anyone in the film. It's almost as if the director decided to start-over every fifteen minutes. In fact, the story is so fractured and confused I couldn't figure out how to write a synopsis for this post.

Where as Susperia's equally baffling script could be excused due its astonishing cinematography, most of Inferno's visuals are oddly flat and uninspiring. The bold blue and red colours that washed the Argento designed art-deco sets in Suspiria look misplaced against the more familiar New York architecture, to the point of distraction. Thankfully, the cinematography comes to life when Argento's dark imagination flourishes, the visuals imbibed with the atmosphere of an otherworldly fairytale.


One of the most effective scenes follows a resident of the accursed New York building entering a metaphorical rabbit hole in the basement to discover the identity of her house-witch. Through the hole she enters a flooded ball room adorned with a portrait of her landlord, Mater Tenebrarum, the Mother of Darkness and Shadows. The scene is claustrophobic yet serene, the woman holding her breath inordinately as if she was in another world, free of natural constraints like gravity and the need to respirate. The calm actually heightens the tension as she inevitably discovers she is not alone in the ballroom.

A later scene alludes further to Grimm's dark and ironic stories, a deserted Central Park providing a moonlit woodland lake. After being tormented by the witch's cats, the local occult antiques dealer has collected a sack full ready for drowning. Struggling to keep the sack of cats underwater he slips and the local population of feline fearing rats pounce and tear him apart (that's irony!). As he calls for help a local hotdog vendor runs on top of the water and finishes him off, as if possessed.


Other than these two stand-out death scenes the rest are lacking, almost deliberately restrained, as if to distinguish the film from it's prequel's epically choreographed kills. The aforementioned rat scene is creepy, but the follow up death-by-cats is laughably unconvincing, especially as you can see a hand throwing the terrified domestic cats at the victim.

Inferno is Argento's difficult second album, forever destined to be compared to it's successful big brother. I think the ultimate problem is pace, Susperia comes out starting blocks at speed and continues accelerating where as Inferno never finds its footing, too concerned with exposition that, I suspect, was mostly retroactivity continuity for a trilogy that may of not been considered when making the first film. Inferno is a must watch for a fan of Susperia, but enjoyment is probably limited for someone not familiar with the far superior predecessor.