Tag Archives: A Cure for Wellness

Suspiria (2018): Promising but Flawed Remake

Remaking a cult classic is never an easy task, but having Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name) behind the camera made it an interesting proposition. Like the original, the film follows Suzy Bannion (Dakota Johnson; Fifty Shades of Grey), an American, who comes to Germany to enroll in a famous dance school. On the day of her arrival, she hears whispers of another student who abruptly left the school for unknown reasons, leaving room for Suzy to join. She auditions in front of the demanding teacher Madame Blanc (Tilda Swinton; We Need to Talk About Kevin) who, along with the rest of the staff, takes an immediate interest in her and assigns her the lead role in their next performance. As the film progresses, Suzy’s friend Sara (Mia Goth; A Cure for Wellness) learns that the missing student had suspected their teachers of being witches and using students for an unknown nefarious purpose.

While the original Suspiria was almost a giallo film, the Italian thriller subgenre popularized by director Dario Argento, Guadagnino has moved the title firmly into body horror territory. There are still elements of suspense surround the details of the missing student, but where the first film kept the nature of the school as its main source of intrigue, this iteration never lets the audience think the school is normal. Instead, the question becomes a matter of what Blanc and company are doing and why, not whether it is occult. In early scenes, Guadagnino establishes the teachers as witches through a display of horrific pain. He shows a body contorting against its will in a grisly fashion that would make David Cronenberg proud and continues these effects throughout the duration.

Guadagnino takes the film’s visuals in the opposite direction of the original. While it is beautifully shot with skillful use of shadow, it lacks the color of the original. Argento’s Suspiria was known for its vibrant, contrasting hues and patterned production design. Guadagnino instead creates the aesthetic of Cold War Germany. The buildings are oppressive with dull, muted colors that point to a city in disrepair. The effect of this aesthetic change is that it not only distinguishes the film, but also places greater emphasis on the actual dancing. The energetic dance moves come to the foreground when surrounded by drab settings. It’s a smart decision that gives the remake its own visual identity.

The main performance is a brilliantly lit and choreographed scene.

Until the end, Guadagnino’s Suspiria is a compelling watch. He makes decisions that separate his film in interesting ways and is able to communicate the hypnotic effect of dance that lures Suzy to the school. The film becomes a sensory experience led by Johnson’s striking dancing. Her movements resemble sudden convulsions more than graceful ballet and her twisting, in concert with the film’s lighting, show a temporary euphoria that extends to the audience. It’s unclear how much of the choreography was completed by Johnson rather than a dance double, but her performance and the editing make it impossible to tell as she throws herself into every motion.

It’s the film’s climax that becomes its undoing. Guadagnino and screenwriter David Kajganich (A Bigger Splash) deserve credit for taking the story in a new direction, but the blood-soaked finale will leave most viewers confused rather than awestruck. The ending relies on a plot point that, while not convoluted, unexpectedly changes the film’s focus to something that was barely mentioned earlier. This isn’t a shift that recontextualizes prior events in new and interesting ways, it baffles by implying that the filmmakers were actually focused on what seemed like an inconsequential detail. There are also other background elements that end up superfluous. The repeated nods to WWII and actions that may have been committed under Nazi rule are never developed or addressed by the film’s conclusion. What started as a fresh and enveloping take on a classic film, stumbles and falls in its final stretch leaving Guadagnino’s remake a flawed work that never reaches its potential, despite having many great moments.

3/5 stars.

Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets (2017)

When people first came out of screenings of Avatar, they spoke of wonder and amazement. They talked about being transported to a world unlike anything they had ever seen before and in a way they had never experienced. But I never felt that way. To me, it was derivative world with an even more derivative plot. The most noticeable thing about the CG world was just how expensive it must have been to render. Not creatively challenging. Expensive. I mention this because I think I finally understand how those people felt back in 2009. Luc Besson (Léon: The Professional) has done what James Cameron tried, but couldn’t accomplish. In Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets, he adapts a comic series with incredible devotion. The story follows Valerian (Dane DeHaan; A Cure for Wellness) and Laureline (Cara Delevingne; Paper Towns), special agents of the human empire in the 28th century. The titular city floats through space and houses millions of individuals of all species living in all biospheres, but there is a problem. Deep within the city is a growing radioactive zone and none of the soldiers sent there have come back alive. Valerian and Laureline must find out what is causing the disturbance before it threatens the lives of the city’s many inhabitants.

The city is a believably massive and maze-like entity.

Besson’s visuals are on another level entirely. These are some of the most creative and hyper-detailed renderings ever put to screen. Some of these may be pulled from the original comic, but it’s clear that Besson and his team of concept artists put a staggering amount of labor and love into every frame. Opening scenes of a peaceful, primitive species on a beach planet are genuinely awe-inspiring. Water shimmers and color radiates with life. Unlike many of his contemporaries, Besson uses every spectrum of the rainbow and doesn’t succumb to the dull tones used to make a film seem “realistic”. There is so much sheer variety in the film’s settings. While Avatar only featured a jungle, Valerian has deep sea exploration, life-sized nervous systems, and the most gorgeous semiconductor manufacturing you will ever see. All of these environments have the originality and detail to sustain entire films of their own, but they have mere cameos here because there is so much other creativity to show. There is even an inventive spin on the standard seedy desert flea market sci-fi trope. The market is situated in the middle of the desert, but visitors need to use special virtual reality gear to phase themselves and their belongings in and out of the market. With the equipment on, the area is a bustling bazaar filled with diverse species selling anything you could want, legal or not. Besson uses this as the perfect setting for a heist. As Valerian sneaks in and out of the virtual reality, the tense subterfuge is contrasted with images of him walking through an empty desert to comical effect. This is just one of the many examples of how the incredible effects elevate common scenarios.

This is only one of the many, varied locations.

It’s a shame that the beautiful images have to feature two disappointing leads. DeHaan and Delevingne only have a small fraction of the chemistry the script demands of them and fall too easily into archetypes with DeHaan as the overconfident asshole and Delevigne as the uptight one. DeHaan’s cocky delivery never has the charm needed and Delevigne is relegated to nagging and rolling her eyes. The plot itself mostly serves as an excuse to traverse the varying environments within the city. While it does feature endearing side characters, particularly a trio of enterprising informants, the film’s narrative and its mismatched leads are a disappointment. Fortunately, this is a movie where the strengths can mask the flaws. The unbridled artistry that went into every landscape and every character create a computer-generated world of pure delight. For those who can overlook mediocre writing, Besson and company have produced visuals that will be talked about for years to come.

4/5 stars.

A Cure for Wellness (2017)

After having spent the better part of the last fifteen years toiling away at mediocre to bad tentpole releases, Gore Verbinski (Pirates of the Caribbean) is back with something decidedly niche in its appeal. Dane DeHaan (Chronicle) plays Lockhart, a young, ruthlessly ambitious Wall Street executive tasked by his bosses to retrieve a member of their board who left to a “wellness center” in the Swiss Alps. Similar to Martin Scorsese’s Shutter Island, this is a health facility where something is amiss. As Lockhart first enters the area the movie seems to be headed towards similar territory. Yet, unlike that film, A Cure for Wellness isn’t built around a cheap twist. Lockhart’s first questions are “What do they cure here?” and “Why do people stay?”, but as the film progresses those thoughts fade away when more sinister intentions become apparent. Each wing of the center appears ominous and it’s unclear what lies behind the locked doors.

Like in the early films of George Lucas and Stephen Spielberg, Verbinski brings A-level talent and production to the trappings of a B-level story. The sets are immaculate and emphasize the excessively sterile interiors of the sanitarium. The glistening floors contrasted with the historical architecture hint at the danger within. Hallways are cavernous and the empty space only exacerbates the eeriness of the setting. The contraptions used by the physicians are deliberately retrograde, resembling early 20th century industrial equipment more than anything else. These are tools wrought from heavy iron, not the light stainless steel we are accustomed to in medicine. The weight communicates one thing: permanence. The facility appears to have changed little since its construction and anyone placed in these devices would have no chance of escaping from them, perhaps like the very center itself.

The beautiful, mazelike interiors appear inescapable.

The cinematography brings the menacing atmosphere to life. Bojan Bezelli, who collaborated with Verbinski on previous films, uses his camera to communicate the mental fragility of the subjects. Scenes are refracted through drinking glasses or reflected in the eyes of trophy animals. Even the condensation around a cup of water feels unsettling. He favors unhealthy shades of green that dominate the design of the facility. His unique angles and sickly colors give the film a ghostly beauty.

All of this makes A Cure for Wellness a rarity in modern cinema. A larger budgeted movie and an experienced team behind the camera shooting a twisted film. It’s part shock value and part arthouse, but with no expense spared. The premise draws influence from horror classics like Georges Franju’s Eyes Without a Face and body-horror king David Cronenberg. Credit has to be given to screenwriter Justin Haythe for developing an original story that moves beyond its inspirations into unnerving territory. As the more perverted elements are revealed, some audience members will be repulsed, but the rest will be captivated. The enigma of the sanitarium grows into an intriguing allure: how deep does the depravity go? To answer that question would be a great injustice to the filmmakers, but suffice it to say that despite some of the reactions it is sure to elicit, the plot, while perhaps overlong, rarely becomes gratuitous.  Any onscreen displays are only to support the central mystery. Verbinski and his team have elevated a schlock setup into something gorgeous, original, and satisfyingly deranged.

4/5 stars.