First published in Rue Morgue #22 July/August 2001
Most film fans probably harbour the idea, however buried, of someday shooting their own movie. It’s right up there with the best untried dreams, along with writing a novel or starting a rock band. In all probability, only a precious few of you reading this are either seriously considering, seriously pursuing, or seriously promoting an independent movie.
Those few will hopefully have already learned their first lesson about the film business, namely, that it is exactly like any other business: like, say, a laundromat, or a pizza parlour. Making movies in Hollywood is pretty crass business at the best of times (that size, those toppings, speedy delivery), and although business is booming, the climate ensures that filmmaking is seldom – if ever – about art.
Hollywood, of course, is merely the product of its time. North America is founded on the capitalist ideal and a natural consequence of that is that it sees most things, art included, as marketable commodities. It wouldn’t be bad if this kind of thinking stayed in the boardroom (where it belongs), but the reality is that it seldom does. No matter how many artsy fartsy film types complain about how the financial backers are screwing up their film, the truth of the matter is that they too understand their art primarily in terms of its commercial value.
That’s why it is a common practice for filmmakers to approach projects in terms of a genre, and the appeal it will have for the target audience. “Appeal”, by the way, indicates commercial appeal which means that, no matter how dream-driven a project is, it’s being fashioned with the tools of consumerism right from the get-go. Next time you chance on an interview with a name director, listen closely to the way he or she talks about the film.
One filmmaker who speaks in an entirely different manner is Dario Argento. Argento is a veteran director of the genre, only he’s never shot a picture in Hollywood. His studio is Northern Italy, where he grew up, and assorted spots around Europe, where he feels most at home. To hear him talk about his films is a little like having him tell you about past romances; they may be gone but the memories are full of love and loss and passion. Not the way a pizzamaker talks.
It would be naive to say that Dario Argento exists in a vacuum, and I have no doubt that the European film industry can be just as commercial as Hollywood is. But Argento’s words reveal that he is – to a large extent – above it all.
The proof, as they say, is in the pudding. I think anyone would have a hard time understanding much of Argento’s work, and especially a film like Suspiria – with its wash of primary colours and unearthly music – as anything other than the cinematic vision of a visionary. Interestingly, Argento is often criticized on these shores for making movies that don’t make sense. What no one will criticize him of, however, is for making movies that are not straight from his heart.
Whatever your take on his movies, I encourage you to read our interview with Dario Argento beginning on page 14, where you will glimpse something that is rare in the North American film industry: a filmmaker who is first and foremost an artist. Hopefully, the budding filmmakers among you will recognize that making a movie is about letting the marketing managers sort it out after you’ve shot it, not before. Your film – your art – cannot be made any other way.