Deep Red

A milestone in the Roman director’s filmography, “Profondo rosso” (known as “Deep Red” in the US) constitutes the absolute pinnacle of Dario Argento’s “giallo” films, and at the same time, marks his transition to the pure horror phase of his work. On one hand, Argento clearly demonstrates an increasing impatience with narrative logic and character motivation, not to mention the basic plausibility of important plot points (all of which tend to hamper his remarkable visionary gift). On the other hand, equally clear is the director’s increasing penchant to focus on the most macabre and disturbing details (the writer’s burned face, poor Glauco Mauri’s toothless, bleeding gums, etc.).

The resulting work emphasizes suspense, horror, and shock value, even if that means leaving the “giallo” to flounder on an inherently shaky plot. All this helps explain elements such as a practically omniscient killer and ongoing attempts to mislead the attentive viewer struggling to make objective sense of events (the killer entering the men’s room despite being a woman, the reporter’s appearance immediately after the protagonist is assaulted in the “haunted” house, etc.).

From a thriller standpoint, the film doesn’t disappoint: murders packing uncommon visual punch are interspersed with horrifically unsettling foreshadowing (the doll hanging by a noose from the light fixture, the drawing of the hanged man on the school blackboard), and it’s all gift-wrapped in a memorable soundtrack by Goblin and Giorgio Gaslini.

The cast is in fine fettle: Daria Nicolodi and David Hemmings play off each other with perfect chemistry (it bears mentioning that a number of extremely well-done comedic scenes serve to relieve tension), but the supporting cast is also noteworthy – Gabriele Lavia is excellent in the role of the “proletarian” pianist, and Clara Calamai is also unforgettable.

Overall, we’re looking at a truly significant work, one which ushered in the golden decade (1975-85) of Dario Argento’s cinematic oeuvre.