DARIO ARGENTO PANICO – Review by Maitland McDonagh
Though its very title suggests tension and fear, Simone Scafidi’s Dario Argento Panico is a fairly conventional documentary that pays homage to the Italian auteur whose career stretches from 1970 to the present, And that’s not to criticize Panico: It’s first and foremost an appreciation of Argento’s substantial body of work, one that helped introduce the term giallo to English-speaking audiences and to make the aestheticization of violence–especially violence against women–a hot topic. And Dario Argento Panico comes shortly after Argento, once disparaged by mainstream movie critics as a hack pandering to the lowest appetites of moviegoers, appeared at no less august a venue than New York’s Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts programmed a career-long retrospective of his career, including the North American debut of his Dark Glasses (2022).
The word giallo literally means “yellow,” an allusion to pulp paperbacks with distinctive yellow covers that introduced Italian readers to writers ranging from Agatha Christie to Raymond Chandler; they stood out in bookstores because the covers featured eye-catching, bright yellow backgrounds. By the 1970s the term gialli had been expanded to define a loose-knit group of stylish and brutally violent thrillers by filmmakers–mostly Italian–possessed of varying degrees of talent. And for many fans of the form, the first name in gialli is Argento, followed in no particular order by Lucio Fulci, Michele Soavi, Aldo Lado and Sergio Martino. Their influence on American filmmakers is evident in films ranging from William Friedkin’s Cruising (1980) to Helene Cattet and Bruno Forzani’s stylish Amer (2009) and Edgar Wright’s Last Night in Soho (2021).
Born in 1940, Dario Argento entered life as part of a filmmaking family; His father was producer Salvatore Argento (1914-1987) and his mother the Brazilian-born glamour photographer Elda Luxardo (1915-2013), whose subjects included major Italian movie stars of their day. Argento has alluded to his mother’s work when asked about the many beautiful women who come to bloody ends in his films, the gist being that her work helped shape his own appreciation of female beauty. Argento was raised with the expectation that he would make something of himself and he did: Starting with 1970’s The Bird With the Crystal Plumage and continuing through Giallo (2009), Argento has made 19 feature films; no, they aren’t all outstanding, but anyone whose resume includes Four Flies on Grey Velvet (1971), Deep Red (1975) and Tenebrae (1982) is doing something right.
Argento’s career has been marked, and for some viewers defined, by accusations of misogyny–all those brutally murdered women! And his response has always been to put out fire with gasoline, observing that if he’s going to make movies in which a maniac is killing people, he’d rather the victims be beautiful women than unattractive ones or men. Not the way to endear yourself to half the human race. But it’s worth remembering that early on, Argento worked as a newspaper reviewer and no doubt heard the Italian equivalent of the eternal ink-stained adage, “If it bleeds, it leads.” And on top of that, Argento’s father was a producer, one of the guys who, on a benevolent day, will concede that art is all very well and good, but bosoms and blood put backsides in seats. That said, Argento and his ex-wife, the late actress and sometime co-writer Daria Nicolodi, raised two accomplished daughters, Fiore and Asia Argento; the former has worked in the film industry and the latter is an actress and filmmaker as well as an outspoken advocate for women’s rights and the Me Too movement.
Director Scafidi has his work cut out for him; Argento has spent his adult life in the spotlight; he was his own brand manager before the term existed and has always done a top-notch job of appearing guilessly unguarded while carefully cultivating his persona. It’s hard not to suspect that his provocative remarks have their roots in an instinctive awareness that a bit of controversy makes good copy… I doubt that he made many female friends by observing, “I like women, especially beautiful ones. If they have a good face and figure I would much prefer to watch them being murdered than an ugly girl or man,” but if a team of crack publicists had spent a month working on a provocative, guaranteed-to-be-controversial, eye-catcher of a statement they couldn’t have come up with anything better.
All that having been said, Panico is a must-see for Argento completists; the maestro is in his 80s.
