Inferno (1980) - Argento's Three Mothers Return
Welcome back, boils and ghouls. This month at Capitol Theatre, we're diving headfirst into the deep end of Italian horror. And when I say deep end, I mean a flooded ballroom full of corpses and one very upset witch.
Dario Argento's Inferno is the middle child of his legendary Three Mothers trilogy, squeezed between the Technicolor nightmare of Suspiria and the long-delayed Mother of Tears. But do not let its middle-child status fool you. This film is an absolute feast for the eyeballs. Argento throws logic out the window and replaces it with crimson walls, impossible architecture, and set pieces so elaborate they practically need their own zip code.
The plot, such as it is, follows Mark Elliot as he searches for his sister Rose in a New York apartment building that happens to be one of three homes built for ancient sorceresses. You know, standard New York real estate. Along the way, there are cats. So many cats. And rats. And a hot dog vendor with very poor impulse control. It is glorious chaos from start to finish.
Bite-Sized Brimstone
🔥 Dario Argento directed parts of Inferno while lying on his back due to a severe case of hepatitis. His mentor Mario Bava stepped in for second unit work.
🎹 Keith Emerson of Emerson, Lake & Palmer composed the score after Goblin was unavailable. He re-orchestrated Verdi's "Va, pensiero" in 5/4 time to mimic a bumpy taxi ride.
🏙️ Many of the New York City exteriors were actually miniature skyscrapers built by Mario Bava out of milk cartons covered with photographs.
🌊 The famous underwater ballroom sequence was shot in a water tank with no optical effects. Entirely practical, entirely terrifying.
🎭 Sacha Pitoëff's Central Park death scene used a plexiglass bridge hidden under the water so the hot dog vendor could appear to run across the lake surface.
📽️ 20th Century Fox distributed the film in Italy but shelved the US theatrical release for six years. It finally played for one week in NYC in 1986 as a double feature with The Shining.
🏆 Total Film named Inferno one of the 50 greatest horror films of all time in 2005.
Bring a Towel
Inferno is not a film you watch for narrative coherence. It is a film you watch when you want to feel like you have fallen into a fever dream designed by someone with an unlimited lighting budget and a grudge against the laws of physics.
The colors bleed. The shadows breathe. And somewhere in that impossible apartment building, Mater Tenebrarum is waiting. The film demands to be seen on a big screen where its visual madness can fully envelop you. Capitol Theatre is the perfect place to let Argento's inferno wash over you.
So grab your ticket, say a prayer to whichever Mother you prefer, and prepare for 107 minutes of pure cinematic delirium. The water is fine. The corpses, slightly less so.
"Mater Tenebrarum waits in the shadows, and she has been waiting for you."