I’ll be honest and admit that it takes a lot to get me to drop 40 dollars on a single title release, but the recent limited edition Steelbook of Dario Argento’s slasher masterpiece Tenebrae was something that I just could not pass up. I’ve had a longtime fascination with the movie, so when Synapse Films announced they’d be putting out a definitive edition of Tenebrae, there’s no way I could resist. Thankfully, Synapse Films does the movie justice with an edition packed to the brim with a ton of extras, a CD featuring a remastered version of the soundtrack, an informative booklet, and stunning artwork to boot. This is also the best I’ve seen Tenebrae look, with the Synapse restoration giving Argento’s film new life and keeping his vivid blood-soaked vision purely intact.
Tenebrae follows American mystery writer Peter Neal (Anthony Franciosa) to Italy for a book tour in support of his new novel, Tenebrae. Upon arriving in Rome, he’s greeted by literary agent Bullmer (John Saxon), who’s ready to make his client an international writing star. Things don’t go exactly as planned, though, when a mysterious killer of beautiful women uses Neal’s book as a template, utilizing techniques of the killer featured in his best-selling novel. As the bodies pile up, Neal takes a personal interest in the murders, trying to put the pieces together before it’s too late for him and anyone he cares about.
As someone who has a profound admiration for Argento’s early body of work (The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, Deep Red, Suspiria, Inferno, Phenomena and this film are among some of my all-time favorites), what I’ve always loved about Tenebrae is that it doesn’t feel quite like the Master of Horror’s other movies. Many of Tenebrae’s scenes take place in the daytime—a juxtaposition to the film’s title that plays nicely against most fans’ expectations that a giallo film needs to be shrouded in darkness. Tenebrae also doesn’t feel giallo enough to be considered a traditional story in that genre, as it dabbles in an Americanized style of filmmaking in many scenes, yet it would still make a helluva companion piece to Deep Red, which has a similar story arc but takes a more “expected” approach (whatever that might be in relation to the often shocking Italian art form).
Argento masterfully manipulates audiences numerous times in Tenebrae—yet another way this film endeared itself to me. Often, Argento takes his characters in a direction where we’re expecting them to meet their doom, and just when we let our guards down, he comes out of nowhere for some incredibly unexpected character deaths. In one instance, he has us following a potential shoplifter throughout various encounters that would seem to be her undoing and then, out of nowhere, a killer appears inside her home, ready to strike. The addition of a second killer in the final act is also a nice touch to Tenebrae; and while their motives are a bit more muddled than the first killer’s, I loved how out of left field the film’s final moments feel as we learn more about the unforeseen antagonist.
One of the more interesting aspects of Tenebrae to me has always been how the story itself could be Argento’s way of dealing with his critics head-on and addressing those who have argued over the years that the horror genre itself is rather misogynistic, or that it celebrates a certain sense of perversion that the rest of society is above. Of course, us genre fans know better, but Argento’s thematic material here is an interesting take on the culpability of artists in regards to the violence their art might portray. There’s also a great reference to a line from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles that plays nicely into Argento’s material and its insane conclusion: “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
On a visual level, Tenebrae is right up there with Suspiria for me; Argento once again teamed up with Luciano Tovoli (who lensed Suspiria), and their collaboration here is both beautiful and wholly ambitious (the scene in which the camera follows an unsuspecting victim to her home, then tracks her movements inside the dwelling while the camera remains outside, is absolutely brilliant). The use of both daytime and nighttime settings also allows Tenebrae to stand out visually while capturing that 1970s television feel that Argento has since admitted to be going for (many have criticized his use of a colder, more flat-feeling palette, but I’ve always thought it serves the film well).
As far as Collector’s Editions go, Tenebrae ranks right up there with some of the very best horror fans have ever seen, and I applaud Synapse’s efforts with their expansive Steelbook Blu-ray release. The restored version of Tenebrae is breathtakingly beautiful and is presented in its correct aspect ratio as well, which should no doubt make longtime fans happy. We get both language options (Italian and English) in this release and Synapse also includes some rare treats, including several insert shots, the original US end credits (when it was called Unsane), and the alternate opening title sequence, to name a few. The inclusion of the documentary Yellow Fever: The Rise and Fall of the Giallo is a nice touch to this release, and the commentary track by Argento expert Maitland McDonagh is both informative and entertaining.
Synapse also includes a fun liner notes booklet featuring several takes on Tenebrae (again, all great and really enlightening material included here), and the inclusion of Goblin’s synth-fueled score on its own CD is truly a wondrous gift that keeps on giving. For anyone who has loved this film for years, this limited edition Steelbook of Tenebrae is pretty much everything you could possibly want and more, and I could not be happier than I am with the care and love that was put into this release.
Movie Rating: 4/5, Disc Rating: 5/5