Suspiria ★★★★★

Second watch, and I’m already planning my third.

Watching Suspiria is like peering into the mangled, damaged black heart of Post-War Europe, only to feel rebellion in all its forms boil up and rupture the screen in an ecstasy of gore.  But it’s more than that; it’s a sensory light show that depicts historical and personal trauma in jumps and flashes, akin to the manic editing of Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now, another film dealing in the experience of living with trauma.  I feel myself coping with my own trauma as I watch it, culminating in cathartic blood rituals and destruction, then tapering off into the acceptance and resignation of things lost.  

We are left with a film that acts on an emotional logic, working in cuts, dance and images (and sweet, sweet gore) to give trauma and rebellion a new physicality, a new form, only to transform into a dazzling, unfettered freedom.

And that’s why I love this film.  It makes me feel free.  Free of repression, tyranny, and the past.  

If only for the length of that spectacular third act.

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