"Opera" (1987)

Starring: Cristina Marsillach, Ian Charleson, Urbano Barberini, Daria Nicolodi, Coralina Cataldi Tassoni

First, the lowdown: It’s Phantom of the Opera; ‘cept differnt.

Dario Argento was a director recommended to me by one of my co-workers who considers himself a horror gourmand. The coworker is a guitarist in a death-metal band, so I figure he knows what he’s talking about. In fact, he’s the one who recommended Cannibal Ferox to me. However, my previous forays into his work left me with a rather weird opinion of the man’s style: all of them were beautifully shot, framed, and edited, but there was a permeating goofiness behind it all that ruined it. Suspiria was boring and had only two disturbing scenes in it (falling waist deep into razor wire and the ol’ hat pins through the eyes gag); Tenebre was suspenseful in pieces, but then JOHN SAXON! would open his mouth and ruin it; and Phenomena had a disturbingly hot preteen Jennifer Connelly falling into a pit of maggots, but it also had someone being knifed to death by a crazed monkey. (I recently found out before I started analyzing movies as a hobby, I had already seen a crappy remake of Phantom Of The Opera that was directed by Argento and features a scene of Julian Sands sticking rats down his pants. Ew.)

That being said, Opera left me pleasantly surprised. Not only was it brilliantly shot and edited, but the plot line and acting in it was so solid and gripping enough that one could overlook the semi-triteness that the dialog would sometimes slip into. The movie opens up with a rehearsal for Verdi’s Macbeth (as directed by Michael Bay, apparently) interrupted by the production’s prissy Prima Donna; she can’t stand the ravens that are being used as live set dressing and storms out to be hit by a car. (A technical aside: what’s beautiful about this opener is that it takes place almost entirely in one take using a very long reverse follow shot.) Our diva is not more than two steps from the theatre when she’s struck by a car and put out of commission.

Our lovely understudy, Betty, has just been given the good news. She, however, is extremely nervous about the whole affair and wants to back out of it at the last minute, but the prodding of her agent and the director bolster her confidence. While she rushes to practice, we notice that there was someone watching through the air vent. Meanwhile, production goes on as planned (except for a faceless psycho killing an usher, resulting in a falling stage light), and at opening night, our understudy finds herself to be the toast of the town.

After the show, Betty hooks up with the stage director and goes home with him there. An attempt at intimacy fails because Betty is still jittery over her performance, so the stage director leaves the room for something to drink. While she waits, however, a masked figure ties her up, gags her, and applies tape mounted sewing needles just under her eyes to prevent her from closing them. Betty is then forced to watch our masked psycho cut the stage director into bloody ribbons. The psycho then cuts Betty free of her bonds and escapes into the night.

Production seems to return to normal however, even after the stage director’s untimely death. Betty, however is getting more and more paranoid as people she finds herself alone with end up getting themselves deadified right in front of her. Meanwhile a police inspector starts interviewing the other cast members for clues to the murders, but Betty hasn’t told anyone that she’s witnessed any of them so they don’t focus on her too much. Finally after she watches her costumer get stabbed and then her corpse abused profusely, Betty breaks down and confides everything to her agent.

It’s a great movie and Argento’s technical expertise shows rather well in it. Many of the killings are fairly bloodless for a giallo flick. (The aforementioned wardrobe mistress is cut open with scissors, with the act being heard more than seen.) The only undermining factor for this movie happens to be more of a personal issue with me than anything else: Our police inspector is played by Urbano Barberini, who played Tarl Cabot in both Gor movies; if the first thing you see someone in is a leather thong, it’s hard to take them seriously again. (I’m looking at you Marc Singer.)

Line of the movie: “I heard all sopranos were horny as hell.” Our wayward stage director comes to terms with his blue-balls.

Five stars. Eat your greens.