Loyal disciples of the crimson-lit altar of Italian horror, gather ‘round—tonight, we’re dissecting Dario Argento’s Inferno (1980), the middle child of his Three Mothers trilogy, sandwiched between the operatic terror of Suspiria (1977) and the much-maligned Mother of Tears (2007).
Is it a masterpiece? A mess? A psychedelic nightmare stitched together with neon lighting and Keith Emerson synths? Yes. Buckle up, because we’re diving into the flooded ballrooms, rat-infested parks, and witch-haunted hallways of Argento’s most divisive film.
The Plot (Or: “What Plot?”)
Inferno follows Rose Elliott (Irene Miracle), a poet in New York who stumbles upon an ancient book, The Three Mothers, detailing the existence of three ancient witches ruling the world from hidden lairs in Freiburg (Suspiria’s setting), Rome, and New York.
Convinced her apartment building houses Mater Tenebrarum (the Mother of Darkness), Rose writes to her brother Mark (Leigh McCloskey), a music student in Rome, begging for help. But before he arrives, Rose is gruesomely dispatched (via window-pane guillotine), and Mark finds himself unraveling a conspiracy involving:
- A mute professor who may be the witches’ architect.
- A hot dog vendor who stabs a cat-drowning antique dealer (yes, really).
- A silent, cat-toting woman (Ania Pieroni) who may or may not be Mater Lachrymarum.
- A finale where the building literally burns down while a skeleton-witch cackles.
If that sounds incoherent, congratulations—you’ve grasped Inferno’s essence. This isn’t a movie you follow; it’s one you experience, like a hallucination after eating bad prosciutto.
Why Inferno Is a Flawed Masterpiece (Or Just Flawed)
1. Visual Opulence: Argento’s Color-Soaked Nightmare
Argento and cinematographer Romano Albani drench every frame in hyper-saturated blues, reds, and greens, creating a dreamlike (or drug-like) atmosphere. Standout sequences:
- The Underwater Ballroom: Rose’s dive into a submerged ballroom to retrieve her keys is surreal, eerie, and agonizingly slow—pure Argento suspense.
- Central Park Rat Attack: A crippled bookseller drowns cats (trigger warning: animal cruelty), falls into a pond, and is devoured by rats while a random hot dog vendor stabs him. Why? Who cares? It’s horrifyingly beautiful.
- The Fire Finale: The climactic inferno, with its burning drapes and crumbling architecture, feels like a giallo Titanic.
2. The Soundtrack: Keith Emerson’s Prog-Rock Curse
Replacing Suspiria’s Goblin with Emerson, Lake & Palmer’s Keith Emerson was a gamble. The score swings from haunting organ dirges to jarring prog-rock crescendos. The result? Uneven but unforgettable—especially the operatic finale, “Cigarettes, Ice, Etc.”
3. The “Plot”: A Jigsaw Puzzle Missing Half Its Pieces
Argento’s scripts were never Shakespeare, but Inferno is next-level nonsensical:
- Characters die randomly (RIP Sara, stabbed off-screen for reading a letter).
- Motivations are nonexistent (why does the hot dog guy murder Kazanian?).
- The mythology of the Three Mothers is teased but never explained.
Yet, this incoherence almost works—like a nightmare where logic dissolves, leaving only dread.
4. The Cast: Wooden but Hypnotic
- Leigh McCloskey (Mark) spends the film looking like a confused surfer who wandered onto set.
- Irene Miracle (Rose) is magnetic in her brief role—her real-life fever during filming allegedly led to her character’s early exit.
- Daria Nicolodi (Countess Elise) brings gothic gravitas before being mauled by cats (classic Argento).
5. The Legacy: A Cult Film That Divides
Upon release, Inferno bombed—critics called it “tedious” and “incoherent”. But like many Argento films, time has been kind. Today, it’s revered for:
- Its bold visuals, influencing filmmakers like Nicolas Winding Refn.
- Its unapologetic weirdness, a precursor to Twin Peaks and Mandy.
- Its sheer audacity (rat attacks, skeleton witches, etc.)
The Flaws (Because Even Argento Stans Must Admit Them)
- Pacing Issues: The first act drags; the finale feels rushed.
- Animal Cruelty: The cat-drowning scene is gratuitous and hard to watch.
- Narrative Black Holes: Why does the music student keep staring at Mark? No one knows.
Justin’s Final Verdict: Should You Brave the Inferno?
⭐️⭐️⭐️ ½ (3.5/5 – “A dazzling, frustrating, must-watch mess.”)
For:
- Argento completists who crave his signature style.
- Fans of surreal horror (Possession, Santa Sangre).
- Anyone who thinks “plot coherence” is overrated.
Against:
- Viewers who need linear storytelling.
- Those sensitive to animal violence.
- People who thought Suspiria was “too weird.”
Pair With: Suspiria (1977) for context, Phenomena (1985) for more Argento insanity, and a stiff drink to process what you just saw.
Final Thought: Inferno isn’t Argento’s best, but it might be his purest—an unfiltered dump of his id onto celluloid. It’s flawed, maddening, and utterly hypnotic. As the Countess whispers before her death: “You’ll change…” And after Inferno, you will too.
Sound off below! Team “Argento’s Genius” or Team “What Did I Just Watch?” And how many times did you rewind the rat scene? 🐀🎭
P.S. The Blue Underground Blu-ray is the best way to experience Inferno’s visuals—just don’t expect extras to explain the plot.
