THE STENDHAL SYNDROME (La Sindrome di Stendhal)
Aspect ratio: 1.66:1
Sound format: Dolby Digital
A sadistic rapist/serial killer (Thomas Kretschmann) targets a female police officer (Asia Argento) who suffers from a rare medical condition which causes her to faint in the presence of Great Art.
Those disappointed by the perceived 'failure' of Dario Argento's TRAUMA (1993) are hardly likely to be reassured by THE STENDHAL SYNDROME, a heavygoing thriller quite unlike anything else in this director's filmography. Though punctuated by scenes of horrific violence - played straight by Argento, with few of his trademark stylistic flourishes - the film wastes a lot of valuable time on an otherwise laudable attempt to depict the long-term consequences of a vicious sexual assault on the central character, which slows the pace to a crawl. Furthermore, the harsh subject matter allows no room for levity, and Argento appears to sublimate his own cinematic instincts in deference to the sumptuous artwork that acts as a catalyst for the killer's activities.
For all its shortcomings, however, there's a fierce intelligence underpinning the film's otherwise predictable scenario: Asia de-emphasizes her femininity in response to Kretschmann's initial attack (she cuts her hair short), and uses a long blonde wig to re-establish her sexuality after a second assault in which she emerges the victor (or does she?), a device which minimizes the damage wrought by a painfully obvious climactic 'twist'. Sadly, the movie is weakened by yet another surly characterization by Asia (aggressive and petulant, with no redeeming warmth), and the supporting cast struggle to find their place within the narrative: Marco Leonardi is the devoted boyfriend cast aside in the wake of Asia's trauma; psychologist Paolo Bonacelli stumbles on a terrible secret; and Julien Lambroschini is the new man in Asia's life, a sweet young French boy who rescues her from emotional exile. There's at least one terrific set-piece, in which a potential victim is stalked through a dimly lit room full of over-sized marble statues (a brilliantly edited sequence which suggests everything and reveals nothing), and gorehounds will appreciate an audacious CGI shot of a bullet travelling through someone's head in glorious s-l-o-w motion. Overall, "Stendhal" may not be vintage Argento, but it's too clever and unsettling to be dismissed, and it gets under the skin like no other horror film in recent memory.
NB. This review is based on a viewing of both the Italian and English versions. For some strange reason, the latter print omits a crucial sequence depicting Asia's introduction to Lambroschini's mother (Veronica Lazar), which - on second viewing - is revealed as an act of monstrous betrayal...
(English version)
Aspect ratio: 1.66:1
Sound format: Dolby Digital
A sadistic rapist/serial killer (Thomas Kretschmann) targets a female police officer (Asia Argento) who suffers from a rare medical condition which causes her to faint in the presence of Great Art.
Those disappointed by the perceived 'failure' of Dario Argento's TRAUMA (1993) are hardly likely to be reassured by THE STENDHAL SYNDROME, a heavygoing thriller quite unlike anything else in this director's filmography. Though punctuated by scenes of horrific violence - played straight by Argento, with few of his trademark stylistic flourishes - the film wastes a lot of valuable time on an otherwise laudable attempt to depict the long-term consequences of a vicious sexual assault on the central character, which slows the pace to a crawl. Furthermore, the harsh subject matter allows no room for levity, and Argento appears to sublimate his own cinematic instincts in deference to the sumptuous artwork that acts as a catalyst for the killer's activities.
For all its shortcomings, however, there's a fierce intelligence underpinning the film's otherwise predictable scenario: Asia de-emphasizes her femininity in response to Kretschmann's initial attack (she cuts her hair short), and uses a long blonde wig to re-establish her sexuality after a second assault in which she emerges the victor (or does she?), a device which minimizes the damage wrought by a painfully obvious climactic 'twist'. Sadly, the movie is weakened by yet another surly characterization by Asia (aggressive and petulant, with no redeeming warmth), and the supporting cast struggle to find their place within the narrative: Marco Leonardi is the devoted boyfriend cast aside in the wake of Asia's trauma; psychologist Paolo Bonacelli stumbles on a terrible secret; and Julien Lambroschini is the new man in Asia's life, a sweet young French boy who rescues her from emotional exile. There's at least one terrific set-piece, in which a potential victim is stalked through a dimly lit room full of over-sized marble statues (a brilliantly edited sequence which suggests everything and reveals nothing), and gorehounds will appreciate an audacious CGI shot of a bullet travelling through someone's head in glorious s-l-o-w motion. Overall, "Stendhal" may not be vintage Argento, but it's too clever and unsettling to be dismissed, and it gets under the skin like no other horror film in recent memory.
NB. This review is based on a viewing of both the Italian and English versions. For some strange reason, the latter print omits a crucial sequence depicting Asia's introduction to Lambroschini's mother (Veronica Lazar), which - on second viewing - is revealed as an act of monstrous betrayal...
(English version)