Songs in the Key of Lies

Under the Silver Lake (The Songwriter scene)

(David Robert Mitchell, 2018)

 

Considering David Robert Mitchell's debut film It Follows (2014) marked him as one third of horror cinema's hottest trifecta (along with Jennifern Kent's The Babadook (2014) and Richard Eggers' The Witch (2015)), his sophomore effort, Under the Silver Lake (2018), was something of a disappointment for yours truly. What's really heartbreaking about it are the numerous elements and ideas introduced which are greatly appealing: ranging from cryptic codes, Hollywood's elitism, mysterious tunnels beneath L.A and etc, feeling squandered after having to sit through its long running time.

The problems with Under the Silver Lake really do lie with Mitchell punching above his weight, since its premise feels overly ambitious in his hands and all too random; resulting in many of the film's questions either remaining unanswered, or given the quintessential ambiguous treatment; which is a familiar cop-out whenever a film maker over extends their reach. Also, when fans are having to resort to external sources like the internet in order to decypher hidden meanings and messages just to fill the gaps, then that defeats the objective of any good mystery, in my opinion.

What Under the Silver Lake does have, however, is a fantastic scene where Adam Garfield's wasteman meets the mysterious, Illuminati-like songwriter. He is the architect to many classic songs and jingles glorified in popular culture. It's a compelling scene where the old timer tinkers away on his piano while simultaneously crushing Andrew Garfield's very soul. The realisation that those beloved songs Garfield cherished were like disposable fodder to the elderly songwriter, makes this scene pure gold.

Managed to revisit Under the Silver Lake again recently, and while this time around the experience kind of cushioned the blow, its flaws are still apparent. A real shame, as it potentially could have been one of the best films of the 2010s, if Mitchell had a bit more experience under his belt.

Tanz Macabre

Suspiria (Olga's Dance scene)

(Luca Guadagino, 2018)

There's a special place in Hell reserved for anyone who prefers Luca Guadagino's washed out remake of Suspiria over Dario Argento's 1977 colourful original. In a perfect world all those involved in the remake's production ought to have been ridiculed and flogged for this blasphemy. I mean, who's idea was it to have Tilda Swinton play three roles; including as an old codger, or replace Goblin's iconic score with a thoroughly depressed Thom Yorke on the piano? To add insult to injury, make the film run about an hour longer than the original.

On a positive tip, Guadagino's film does have one redeeming scene about it which stops me from throwing a complete wobbly like Madame Blanc. That scene is when Dakota Johnson's Susie Bannion does her performative dance while inflicting her witch powers upon poor old Olga; leaving her like a broken ragdoll. Perhaps the most disturbing scene and the only real notable highlight from this celluloid travesty.

Suspira (Olga's "Snakes!" scene)

(Dario Argento, 1977)

Since I'm posting about Suspiria, albeit if it's only about the one redeeming feature from the remake, can we at least show some love for the O.G Olga, played by Barbara Magnolfi from the ultra sleazefest giallo, The Sister of Ursula (1978)? Argento originally wanted children as his Tanz Dance students, but, incredibly, even the Italians back then thought it was unwise to feature kids as victims in his technicolour splatter. Hence the adults acting like children at times and none more apparent than the scene between Olga and Sara having a childish spat in this classic scene from the perfecto original.