Le syndrome de Stendhal

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.

I don't really understand why so many Argento fans dislike this film, I think it's one of his best works. It's not always easy to watch, it has some very nasty violence, even for an Argento film, I wouldn't recommend the film to sensitive persons; but it's not for exploitational purposes. Argento does a good job of juggling real-life horrors with a dreamy, hallucinatory atmosphere, and pulls off some typically Argento-esque setpieces, such as the one in which a bullet is followed through a woman's mouth with the aid of CGI. The great Ennio Morricone delivers possibly his best score for a horror film, the haunting main theme with his trademark wordless female vocals stayed with me long after the film was over. Frequent Fellini cameraman Giuseppe Rotunno does an excellent job on the film too.

The Stendhal Syndrome isn't for everyone, but it's worth a viewing for fans of European horror and psychological thrillers in general.

Argento has been cursed with a number of duds in recent years. 'Two Evil Eyes', 'The Phantom of the Opera', 'Sleepless', 'The Card Player' and one of the worst MASTERS OF HORROR episodes yet 'Jenifer'. However, the beautiful, poignant 'The Stendhal Syndrome' is an extremely well crafted rose between a number of poisonous thorns. It sees a return to the atmospheric dream-like charm of his earlier films like 'Phenomena' and 'Suspiria', but adopting his more recent sadism (it's always there, just a different style in his newer films) that gave slight high points in his otherwise dull modern films. After two poorly reviewed films ('Trauma' and 'Two Evil Eyes') Argento has finally done it right.

The film stars his daughter, Asia (whose interesting relationship with Dario adds to the intriguing and off-beat persona he puts out), as Anna, a beautiful police detective in Rome. When she is targeted by the serial killer she is hunting, she is raped and beaten and so leads Argento's best character study and one of the most intense of his films to date. Rather than following the madman as he offs prostitutes and impressionable young women through Italy (the film lightly touches on it, but the more left to the imagination the better), the film follows Anna as she loses grip on reality and develops a strange disease in which she can ever paintings in her mind and they help solve the case, called the Stendhal Syndrome. As the film goes on the attacks on Anna become more and more vicious, and the final climatic ending is one of Argento's best.

Asia delivers a interesting performance, to say it is good is to stretch the truth, but it is suited to the role and you can tell she has a lot of acting talent. All the other performances are rather flat, but as with all of Agento's films the performances aren't what really matter. The cinematography is bland, but as with Asia's performance suits the film better than if it were Technicolor. The tension and music is amazing, the film devotes itself to really unsettling you, rather than just entertaining you like other recent Argento's. 'The Stendhal Syndrome' is probably the most violent and disturbing I've seen the man go, the rape and murder scenes are gratuitously sadistic and the scenes where Anna is raped are bordering on exploitation.

Overall 'The Stendhal Syndrome' is a fantastic return to form fr Argento, and I hope 'The Third Mother' is anywhere near as well-crafted as this.

7/10

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.