(1982) Written and directed by Dario Argento; Starring: Anthony
Franciosa, Giuliano Gemma, John Saxon, Christian Borromeo, Mirella D’Angelo and
Daria Nicolodi; Available on Blu-ray and DVD
Rating: ***½
This post is part of the John Saxon Blogathon,
hosted by Gill Jacob from Realweegiemidget Reviews and Yours Truly, shining the spotlight on one of cinema’s most versatile and recognizable
character actors. Be sure to check out all the great posts about this singular
talent.
Peter Neal: “Well, I’ve made charts. I tried building a plot
the same way you have, tried to figure it out, but I just have this hunch that
something is missing, a tiny piece of the jigsaw. Somebody who should be dead
is alive, or somebody who should be alive is already dead.”
Captain Germani: “Explain that.”
Peter Neal: “You know, there’s a sentence in a Conan Doyle
book: ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however
improbable, must be the truth.’”
Giallo (or the plural, Gialli) films, named after a popular type
of Italian pulp novel, are curious murder mysteries, famous for their
labyrinthine plots, spectacular death scenes and wild titles. There are several
giants of the genre, but few have earned the praise that Dario Argento has
garnered. Argento didn’t invent the giallo movie, but considering some of the
classics he’s created, including The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, Four
Flies on Gray Velvet, and Deep Red (no, Suspiria isn’t a giallo),
it would be easy to make that oversight. Argento returned in top form with Tenebrae
(Italian for “darkness”),* displaying his
usual panache for creating suitably over-the-top imagery to match the grand
themes of his stories.
* Fun Fact #1: The film’s title was changed to Unsane
in the U.S.
Successful American mystery writer Peter Neal (Anthony
Franciosa)* arrives in Rome to a controversy. Someone** seems to be emulating
his latest novel, Tenebrae, perpetrating a series of violent murders based
on his work (one victim is found slashed to death, with pages of the book
stuffed in her mouth). He’s immediately questioned by police detective Germani
(Giuliano Gemma), who’s a big fan of his books, and familiar with the various modus
operandi he employs. His dedicated secretary Anne (played by Argento’s frequent
collaborator and former partner, Daria Nicolodi)*** tries her best to make him
comfortable throughout the ordeal, while his agent Bullmer (John Saxon) endeavors
to keep the police and press at bay. He’s grilled by Tilde (Mirella D'Angelo), a
critic, about the alleged misogyny in his books (a little self-reflexive moment
for Argento, regarding criticisms of his own movies). Little does she suspect,
however, that she and her lesbian lover Marion (Mirella Banti) will be the next
victims. As bodies continue stacking up, Neal initiates his own amateur
investigation, while confronting repressed memories of an incident in his
younger years. The film flashes back to Rhode Island, where he witnessed the
murder of a mysterious woman in white with red shoes (Eva Robins). By becoming entwined
in the case, he discovers the truth could be fatal.
* Fun Fact #2: Argento’s first choice for Peter Neal was
Christopher Walken.
** Fun Fact #3: The killer’s black-gloved hands belong to
none other than Dario Argento, who often stood in for the murderer in his
movies.
*** Fun Fact #4: For the English version, Nicolodi’s voice
was dubbed by American actress Theresa Russell.
Of course, Tenebrae wouldn’t be a self-respecting giallo
without ample splashes of blood and flashes of skin. One of the most memorable
murder scenes involves Marion as she relentlessly pursued by the crazed killer
while clad in only a towel that seems in danger of flying off at any moment.*
One of Argento’s hallmarks is the almost fetishistic presentation of broken
glass, with shards flying everywhere in slow motion – all the better to cut the
unfortunate victims to ribbons. Another component that makes an Argento movie
special is the unmistakable, synth-heavy music of Goblin. While not officially
credited to the band, for all intents and purposes it’s a Goblin score,
featuring band members Massimo Morante, Fabio Pignatelli and Claudio Simonetti (who
are credited separately).
* In the preceding scene, when Marion seduces a young man in
front of Tilde, she wears an ensemble that leaves little to the imagination,
bringing to mind something my mother would often say: “That’s a nice outfit
she’s almost wearing.”
The role of Bullmer is a nice change of pace for John Saxon,
who’s often relegated to detective roles (or similar), in movies such as this.
As Neal’s upbeat literary agent, it’s a relatively minor role, but Saxon milks
it for all its worth. If nothing else, it illustrates how Saxon had a comic
side, something rarely displayed on screen. When Neal questions Bullmer whether
his favorite hat would stay on, he bobs his head in exaggerated movements, resembling
a pigeon on acid. I don’t normally associate Saxon with “silly,” but this is a
fun exception. Bullmer deflects the police and snooping reporters, but still has
time for a little sugar on the side, having an affair with Neal’s mentally
unstable fiancée Jane (Veronica Lario). Sadly, this plot thread is never quite
fleshed out, but it adds another wrinkle to the list of suspects.
Although a slight step beneath his very best, only because
the novelty of the genre’s conventions had worn a bit thin by the ‘80s,
Tenebrae has a lot going for it. It’s artfully shot (thanks to cinematographer Luciano
Tovoli), and the story keeps you guessing until the end. In her insightful
commentary, critic/film scholar Maitland McDonagh observed that Tenebrae isn’t
like an Agatha Christie story, where the plot is meticulously constructed in a
way that you can logically deduce who the killer is. Instead, Tenebrae,
like many of Argento’s films, relies on imagery and actions that frequently defy
logic, colorful characters, and a cockamamie explanation for the killer’s motive.
Considering the identity of the killer is a bit of a cheat, don’t strain your
brain trying to figure it out. Like many giallo films (especially one by Argento),
it’s best to sit back and enjoy the wild ride.
Sources for this article: Blu-ray commentary by Maitland
McDonagh
