Successful American mystery writer Peter
Neal (Anthony Franciosa) is in Rome to promote his latest book, Tenebre.
Soon before his arrival, a young shoplifter is followed back to her
apartment, where she is killed like a character in the novel, the pages
of which are stuffed in her mouth in 'homage to Neal. The police
therefore become interested in him, and as the body count rises, Neal
decides to play detective himself and try to trap the killer...
Tenebre marked the end of an incredible run of great
gialli and horror films from Dario Argento which began with 1975's
Deep Red; after this, the Maestro's work became more erratic,
though seldom less than interesting. One of his most tightly scripted
films, Tenebre (the title referring to a Catholic ceremony
in which candles are extinguished, leaving the congregation in darkness)
is also one of the cleverest and most entertaining of gialli. The
central theme of a writer whose gruesome fiction spills over into
reality is a commentary on Argento's role as a filmmaker and the
controversy that surrounds his bloody filmmaking; one is left no
question of where the director stands on the issue early on with Neal's
telling comment to the cops, If somebody is murdered with a Smith and
Wesson revolver, do you interview the president of Smith and Wesson, but
things become complicated as the film progresses and Neal's role as an
identifiable protagonist is ultimately turned on its head. Anthony
Franciosa does a splendid job as Neal - he is natural, witty,
charismatic without being smug and just generally likable in a tricky
role; Argento apparently wasn't very fond of the actor, and has taken to
referring to him as a drunk, but he was seldom graced with a stronger
leading man. Daria Nicolodi, then nearing the end of her relationship
with Argento, has one of her less interesting roles as Neal's
secretary/girlfriend, but she, too, makes her character likable.
Giuliano Gemma, veteran of many Italian westerns (including Lucio
Fulci's Silver Saddle, 1976), gives a wonderful
performance as the inspector with a taste for murder mysteries, and his
rapport with Franciosa yields some of the choicest lines in any Argento
film (Remember, Mr. Neal - you write about these things but I turn over
real dead bodies. I finally finished your book last night, and guess
what - I guessed who the killer was!). But the real standout in the
supporting cast is the ever-reliable John Saxon, here cast as Neal's
somewhat sleazy agent, always on the take and fixated on his newly
bought hat. As one might expect from an Argento film, technical credits
are superior in every respect. Reteaming with Luciano Tovoli, the
cinematographer on Suspiria (1976), Argento sought to
create a very different look for the film - the title alluding to
darkness, most of the film takes place in bright sunlight, while even
nighttime scenes look rather bright; primary colors are pretty much
gone, except for occasional splashes or red (naturally), and the palette
is dominated by harsh whites and cool blues. In addition to a rigorously
controlled color scheme, Argento and Tovoli also create one of the most
memorable shots in cinema history, as the camera, for pretty much no
reason, cranes over the facade of a house, peering into various windows,
as the killer stalks two prospective victims. Self-indulgent? Yes.
Awe-inspiring filmmaking? That, too, and the kind of thing Argento is
known and loved for. Though credited to Simonetti-Pignatelli-Morante
because of a falling out with their drummer, the score is really a
Goblin soundtrack, albeit a more up-tempo one than the ones heard in
Deep Red or Suspiria, for example. A techno
based wall of sound, the insanely catchy soundtrack ranks with their
best work and captures the cold feeling of the film very nicely. |
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improvement. The Sazuma release is the same transfer as the Roan
Group laser disc, and the Anchor Bay release, thus preserving those
flaws. Though the 1.85:1 framing looks about right, it has not been
16x9 enhanced. The transfer does a nice job of preserving the film's
cold color scheme, and apart from the odd scratch and instance of
grain, the print seems to be in very good shape. Alas, the film is
missing approximately 20 seconds of footage - most of it fairly
innocuous trims and trills around reel changes, but some of it
leaping out due to jumps in the soundtracks (for example, a stabbing
which is missing one or two thrusts of the knife). One can only hope
that if Blue Underground decides to revisit this title (the Roan
disc was supervised by Bill Lustig), these flaws will be corrected.
