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There is a funny (to me) idiom popularly used in the English language. The Bad Trip (as an aside, I’m a multilingual speaker so slang often fascinates me) is usually associated with the consuming of tainted or defective hallucinogenic drugs. Interestingly, in my own home country it has been adapted into some 90’s elders’ vocabulary to refer to a person who projects bad vibes or is generally responsible for causing other to have an uncomfortable time. Why do I bring this up? Because in some ways (but not all ways) this is what SUSPIRIA felt for me. It was a hallucinogenic-fueled trip that held my attention through engaging cinematography, bold colors, and a scoring that could rival the best American horror auteurs.
Dario Argento’s film reminds me of a kaleidoscope in that sense, and slightly dizzying as well with a plot that leaves plenty of space for the viewer’s imagination to fill (to the point that it offered plenty of fertile ground for a not-well-received remake). I could say it is a series of intense set pieces connected by a thread of plot. It is also has plenty of characters who could be considered “bad trips” themselves due to the way in which they treat others or just inspire an unidentifiable sense of creepiness. The American girl protagonist puts the audience on edge from the get go, an unease that is made that much more powerful by the editing and sound than the actor’s craft. The disconnect her lack of language skills creates made me almost feel the unease the actor failed to confidently/clearly express. The plot is bare bones by either necessity or purpose, and I would choose the latter. So, this American girl travels to West Germany to join a well-known dance school. Supernatural occurrences abound, as Suzy (the name of the protagonist) fails to fully adapt even while making some connections with students and staff, she is constantly sick for some mysterious reason, people die, odd characters lurk around the margins, and towards the end the mystery of those deaths is linked to a witches’ coven that is at the center of the school. The protagonists goes all final girl and in a clever scene (though one that has aged badly due to the quality of the effects) defeats the barely seen big evil.
Being honest, most of this description of the plot comes from both a second viewing and online sources. This is because, after my first time watching the movie, I could barely figure out what was happening plotwise. It was not until Udo Kier (in an uncredited appearance) and a fellow professor in a random scene filled me in on this being truly a supernatural evil. And that is not due to the aged effects (which did not help), but rather the dizzying pace and music of the film itself. And yet, this did not dissuade me at all from enjoying it. If anything, it made me glad that Argento refused to coddle me as a viewer and throw in more exposition dumps. It made me put myself much more into Suzy’s shoes and feel that alienation of being a stranger in a strange land. As someone who also traveled abroad for university, I felt some kinship with Suzy. That unease of not knowing all the customs, of not knowing the institutional rules of this new space you will inhabit, and that murmur of loneliness that compels you to form bonds even with those who seem to not want to extend them towards you are not alien to me.

SUSPIRIA isn't the only horror film that becomes more rewarding when you stop expecting it to behave like a traditional genre movie. Check out Pleatherface's thoughts on Halloween III: Season of the Witch, another cult classic that found its audience by refusing to play by the rules.
Another point I feel needs to be mentioned is the superb musical and sound design. Argento worked with a progressive rock group called Goblin in creating the sounds and music of the film, and an interesting detail I found during my research was that the whole score was completed before the film began shooting. The main theme has been sampled by various rappers, and the whole score was used for two Asian films, including one called We’re Going to Eat You by Tsui Hark.

I can’t begin to even think of signing off without addressing my core research concerns on consumerism. While it is not clear in the film why Suzy must be the on consumed to sustain the head witch (why could they not use any other student? It is sort of implied not everyone is in the coven or has knowledge of the witches’ activities since at least 2 students are killed to protect the secret), there is some potential in looking at this act through the lens of materialism. On one hand, the supernatural being consuming the innocent is a common metaphor in literature and one that some critics such as Linda Schulte-Sasse additionally connected to a critique of fascism. But elaborating further from that point, the way in which education in general has become a business of the consumed/consumer offers a fascinating potential for analysis. Think of it this way, Susy is both laborer and consumer; in such fashion she is a paradox, she is attracted through her own need to consume knowledge to be consumed by those same knowledge providers. The dance academy, outside of the supernatural element, uses the labor of the students for productions that are consumed by others. This connects to one of my current pet peeves concerning education, the blurring of the lines between for profit and non-profit. Educational institutions are constantly squeezing students and communities for resources that, in order to maintain the façade of non-profit, are spent mostly on non-academic costs such as administrative bloat and real estate for expansion. This is one reason why international students are such an important resource for higher education, as they tend to remove pressure on local and national resources and can therefore allay the concerns of local and national stakeholders. This is purely speculative of course, but the elements for it are there and diving deeper might be in the cards.
So thank you again for reading this, I have yet to decide on my next film (though I still have Cabin in the Woods on queue).
About Professor Horror
At Professor Horror, we don't just watch horror: we live it, study it, and celebrate it. Run by writers, critics, and scholars who've made horror both a passion and a career, our mission is to explore the genre in all its bloody brillance. From big-budget slashers to underground gems, foreign nightmares to literary terrors, we dig into what makes horror tick (and why it sticks with us). We believe horror is more than just entertainment; it's a mirror, a confession, and a survival story. And we care deeply about the people who make it, love it, and keep it alive.