El síndrome de Stendhal

Regarded as one of Argento's lesser works, I find this one much more plausible than any of his early films. Let's face it, Argento doesn't care much about plot or even acting. His films are probably the frustrating I've ever seen: There are things I love, and things I hate about them. I grew up watching much of his films mutilated by Italian Television. I was a kid back then, and strangely enough his films never scared me when they were supposed to. They were really over the top. But I loved the colours, the pictures and once in a while I found myself humming Claudio Simonetti's electronic scores.

Now with this film Argento has Morricone, who is definitely a master and he does a great job here. Anna's character is really intriguing. Some people dismiss Asia's acting style, but I think it goes very well with her father's aesthetics. You wont find the crazy colours here. Everything is more restrained. The opening for example scene is great. But the film looses interest towards the end. Still I think is one of Argento's most solid pieces. The idea is truly interesting and Anna's relationship with the killer is fascinating. The hallucinations scenes of Anna going into the paintings are masterfully done.

After the huge disappointment of Il Cartaio, I hope he truly returns to form, and start doing what he's good at: Going crazy with film. La Sindrome Di Stendhal is a pretty good step.

La Syndrome di Stendahl has met cruel critical comments on its initial release but although it is not at all like his earlier work, it is in fact a far more intelligent and mature affair. Anna Manni, the character played by Asia Argento, has more compassion than any other character in an Argento film, quite unlike the carelessly created cartoon-like characters of his other work. It is true, however that the film drags slightly in the middle, although picks up the pace again for a surprising and beautifully directed finale; and although the film is not as bloody as tenebrae, the violence on display is brutal and sexual (leading to it being cut for release in Britain) and genuinely disturbing. Perhaps not as good as Deep Red or Suspiria, but definitely one of this unusual director's better efforts.

The Stendhal Syndrome is said to be a disorder where, upon viewing works of art, a person suffers from chills, anxiety attacks, and hallucinations where they believe they're actually in the paintings themselves. Don't ask me how real or common this disorder is since I'm not a doctor, but it sure makes for an interesting case study in Dario Argento's The Stendhal Syndrome.

Anna Manni (Asia Argento) is an Italian police detective who goes to an art museum due to an phone tip from a woman claiming that she knows a serial rapist and murderer will be there. Once there, Anna suffers from an attack of Stendhal and ends up getting knocked out. When she comes to, a man is there and he follows her back to her room, rapes her, and kidnaps her, forcing her to watch him murder another victim. She flees from the scene, but the worst is yet to come.

It's hard to talk about this film without spoiling everything, but let's just say that the character of Anna goes through several transitions throughout the film. The 1st act of the film is pretty gripping and the 2nd act isn't terrible either, but by the 3rd act, you get the feeling like they don't know how to wrap this up so they're just stalling and making up stuff to distract us from the fact that the movie hasn't cleared for landing yet. By the end, you'll definitely be left scratching your head and wishing they'd have just ended it a half hour sooner.

Asia Argento isn't ideally suited for the role either and only seems to really come to life during the 2nd act where she adopts a touch, butch persona. She seems uncomfortable in the 1st and 3rd acts. There are also some questionable CGI effects throughout that take you out of the movie and it's not as stylish as many of Dario Argento's other works.

What makes up the singular pleasure that is Dario Argento? Maybe it's the crossroads where High Romanticism and hardcore porn meet. (I'm referring to the feeling of his work--not the images.) Argento seems doomed, like Peckinpah and like Lynch, to have summed up his world-view in a single masterpiece, the 1977 SUSPIRIA; the thrillers that came before and the low-budget shockers that came after may offer delights, but nothing close to that unity of vision.

Seeing THE STENDHAL SYNDROME projected in Los Angeles, I was struck with newfound sympathy for the Star Wars fans protesting way too much in favor of THE PHANTOM MENACE. If you love THE STENDHAL SYNDROME, you love Argento, and that is that--you may see the flaws, but they don't ruin your pleasure. The picture has too many Achilles heels to enumerate here, but what's important is that nobody in world cinema today is wrestling with his soul in the psychosexual mire the way Argento does. He puts his misogynistic demons and his almost sentimental compassion right out there; and only Cronenberg has such a direct pipeline to his own unconscious. Not to mention the fabulous, cascading images--Argento's stock-in-trade is Victorian Liebestod, Edward Gorey gone porno, and THE STENDHAL SYNDROME has sequences that rank with his best.

The sketchy thing about STENDHAL SYNDROME, like the maestro's TRAUMA, is his use of his daughter, Asia Argento, in scenes one cannot imagine a father watching, much less filming. Whatever memoirs come down the pike twenty years later, it must be said: Argento for certain lets it all hang out, and the land-mined terrain he maps is, to my taste, thrilling.

Argento's main concern as a filmmaker is always with the camera, because for him, the camera is not only something that is used to record the action, but is a constant representation of the eye. This notion is even more important than ever before with The Stendhal Syndrome (1996), Argento's bizarre and brutal thriller, in which an inexplicable affliction pertaining to the relationship between art and the viewer is used as a springboard to a peculiar concoction of murder, rape, identity crisis and pure, psycho-sexual dread.

The story is typical of Argento, with some wonderful references to the classic Giallo style of storytelling found in his earlier films, such as The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970), Four Flies on Grey Velvet (1971) and Deep Red (1975), with the continual juxtaposition between the initial police investigation and elements of amateur sleuthing, and all within the broader "stalk and slash" universe of masked killers, wandering point-of-view shots and black leather gloves. However, this is in direct contrast with the incredible viciousness presented by Argento and directed primarily at the central character, in this instance, the young female police investigator, Anna Manni. The treatment of the violence and, in particular, the sexual violence, goes way beyond the brutality of even Tenebrae (1982) or Opera (1988), as the filmmaker attempts to invade a limited psychological space - both in terms of the story and in the visual presentation - that is much deeper and more sinister than anything Argento had done before or since.

The plot here is broken up into two very distinct halves; with the first half showing our protagonist in pursuit of a vicious serial killer who uses her affliction to ensnare her, and the second half showing the breakdown in Anna's personality following a prolonged and violent encounter with the murderer himself. The two different strands are handled well by Argento, with the first half showing his revived interest in the conventions of the Giallo and the second half demonstrating his interest in psychological issues familiar from the masterwork Tenebrae and the largely forgettable American-set thriller Trauma (1993).

There's also a greater attempt to create something approaching reality here, with none of the vivid colours of films like Suspria (1977) and Inferno (1980) or the bravura camera movements or elements of fragmented shot-construction found in Tenebrae and Deep Red. The film points the way forward to subsequent projects, Sleepless (2000) and The Card Player (2005), the latter of the two being something of a thematic sequel to the film in question (though really, this idea makes little to no sense when considered within the context of this film's climax). As bold and different as this presentation is, it must be said that the switch in style isn't entirely successful. There are still a number of slight flaws to the film that we will come back to, but really, it is the occasional drop in quality or the seemingly unbelievable elements of the plot that jar somewhat against the two very distinct and different worlds that the director is trying to create. This still doesn't stop the film from being the best thing that Argento directed in the 90's, and his most enjoyable film overall since Opera almost ten years before.

For me, Sleepless is still the best thing he's directed in the last twenty years, but The Stendhal Syndrome has plenty going for it, even if the abstract concept at the heart of the film may be too outlandish for many to accept. Although there are plot holes and the usual poor dubbing/listless performances, the film makes some valid points about the relationship between art and those that view it, and the always fascinating notions of sight and perception (the things we see and things we feel). Not a masterpiece for certain, but one that regardless offers an interesting idea and some truly thrilling moments of terror and dread.