Dario Argento
Trauma

At the end of the '80s, after the semi-flop of "Opera" ('87) and the overall decline of his cinema, Dario Argento entered an irreversible artistic crisis that his earliest followers did not hesitate to criticize, while the less savvy and more impressionable audience continued to crowd the theaters for his films, perhaps renting the VHS tapes of others' works that he produced and supervised ("La setta", "La chiesa", "Demons" 1, 2, etc.).

At that time, the Roman director was no longer comparable to the brilliant promise of the late '60s or the controversial leader of the late '70s. Instead, he was becoming an "acclaimed Master" of genre cinema, often a monster to be displayed with frequent TV appearances, such as the unfortunate show "Giallo" ('87), with Enzo Tortora already ill and an Alba Parietti (still) in Oppini, just beyond a beginner.

In short, Argento's cinema had lost its iconoclastic charge that was characteristic of his early works, becoming, instead, stylized, much like the character that good Dario played—perhaps despite himself—in the national-popular collective imagination. His works were now those that impressed but no longer frightened or shocked anyone. It was therefore positive for Argento to reinvent a new career and move, in the early '90s, to those States that placed him on the same pedestal as a Cronenberg, a Romero, or a Carpenter to shoot the negligible "Two Evil Eyes" ('89)—indeed in collaboration with Romero—and especially the good "Trauma" ('93), a film I now finally go on to review, for the benefit of my four gray velvet readers.

"Trauma" tells the story of Aura, a young anorexic of Romanian origins, who, at the end of a seance held by her mother (an expert medium), sees her own parents decapitated by a mysterious serial killer, who spreads panic in the city by beheading various unfortunates. Assisted by a young ex-cop with drug addiction problems, Aura tries to uncover the identity of the culprit, who in fact does not randomly choose his victims, accompanied by the unsettling suspicion of having missed the classic "clue that doesn't surface," the night of her parents' murder.

Intriguing and well shot from a purely technical standpoint, "Trauma" benefits from a nice surprise ending that takes us back to Argento's early works, resulting, overall, in a valid genre film, certainly the best work of the Roman director since "Tenebre" ('82). The settings, especially the interiors, are claustrophobic; the incessant rain that accompanies the murderer's actions helps to create a dark fairy tale atmosphere (à la "Suspiria"); the narrative devices are well-worn but well-managed, from the usual flashbacks to the scenes of the murderer's preparations (clearly referencing "Deep Red"), to the real subplot of the boy who lives near the murderer's lair and who will prove to be a true deus ex machina for solving the story (a bit like the Diomede of "Four Flies on Grey Velvet").

Similarly, "Trauma" presents significant limitations that will also distinguish the subsequent Argento cinema.

The first limitation is choosing as the film's protagonist the unripe, and not exactly talented, daughter Asia, at the time a problematic teenager and at least an amateur actress. The role of Aura seems to me too delicate in the narrative balance of the film to be entrusted, nepotistically, to the young daughter of Dario and his former muse Nicolodi (who twenty years earlier would have shone in a similar role). Also, the supporting actors are not too fitting, with the exception of the brief cameo by the experienced Piper Laurie. The second limitation is indulging excessively in self-referentiality, with dense internal references to previous works, which, in a subliminal way, wink at the old admirers of the Roman director, but conceal a persistent lack of inspiration, barely saved by the craft and the impeccable packaging of the film.

This is accompanied by a certain alienation in seeing Argento's stories set in the United States, especially when accustomed to the Italian nature of his stories, the familiarity of the external locations that made the average viewer feel even more immersed in the various dark plots of the earlier works of the Roman director.

Terror appears almost as diminished, because it is physically distanced from the viewer, reduced to pure entertainment, which no longer follows us home once we leave the cinema, as it happened after watching "Deep Red," when we checked inside our wardrobe before going to bed, to avoid ending up like any Amanda Righetti.

P.S.: A volume with novels by Ellery Queen is expected to be released in newsstands this week. One of these clearly inspired the film's ending; I won't say which to avoid spoiling any surprises for you.