Inferno

Inferno

In which a man puts a bunch of cats in a sack and tries to drown them with his crutch but then falls over, gets half-eaten by rats, and has his head mostly chopped off by a butcher? Probably the strangest Argento I've seen, if only because he seems so perversely uninterested with it making any sense. No one really comes to Argento for coherence, though, as long as you walk home with the typical flourishes. Argento hasn't lost his touch for sensation, nor the ability to pull off dazzling, wordless sequences. In fact, Inferno seems to rely on visual storytelling more than almost any of his other films. But there's more than a whiff of diminishing returns here. While his performances tend to be charmingly arrhythmic (given the mix of dubbing Italian actors with English speakers), they're duds in this context. And Argento could've fooled me with the "delicate" score he sought in Keith Emerson. Substituting Emerson's intrusive, stultifying prog-nonsense for Goblin's crunchy synths was a perilous error. Brain's telling me don't hit "like", heart's swooning over the kitschy Technicolor.

Jordan liked these reviews