Quantcast
Connect with us

Editorials

Revisiting Dario Argento’s ‘The Three Mothers’ Trilogy

Published

on

The teaser for Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria that dropped recently revealed a distinct departure from the vivid colored world of Dario Argento’s beloved supernatural classic. Color scheme aside, the teaser seems to be boldly declaring that this won’t be closely following the same beats of the 1977 film. While there are foundational plot elements in common, like the dance academy or that the narrative centers around dancer Susie Bannion (this time played by Dakota Johnson, and with different character spelling), the teaser gave a glimpse of a notebook with a particularly curious set of notes that gives an indication to the larger mythology that may be at play; the Three Mothers.

While waiting to see what kind of madness Guadagnino’s film has in store come November and the potential for a new trilogy based on the Three Mothers, I revisited Argento’s original trilogy to reexamine the lore behind his trio of fearsome witches.

The Three Mothers are a triad of evil, powerful witches stationed across the world to manipulate humanity on a global scale. Argento drew inspiration and the concept from Thomas De Quincey’s collection of psychological fantasy essays Suspiria de Profundis, or more specifically a section titled “Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow,” where De Quincey envisions three companions for the Roman goddess of childbirth; Mater Lachrymarum (Our Lady of Tears), Mater Suspiriorum (Our Lady of Sighs), and Mater Tenebrarum (Our Lady of Darkness). Argento took the idea and spun it into a supernatural horror trilogy, each Mother a powerful witch receiving her own film. He also drew inspiration from his grandmother, who claimed to have fled a German music academy due to actual practicing witches that were there.


Suspiria – Mater Suspiriorum

Easily Argento’s most recognized and most beloved film, Suspiria stars Jessica Harper as Suzy Bannion, an American ballet student who transfers to a prestigious dance academy in Freiburg, Germany, and soon discovers a supernatural conspiracy amidst a string of brutal murders. Aside from the stunning vibrant colors and a progressive rock score by Goblin, Argento cleverly borrows from giallo tropes before ripping the rug out from viewers with the reveal of witchcraft.

The witch responsible for the brutal, extravagantly staged deaths in the film is the Mother of Sighs, or Mater Suspiriorum. The oldest and wisest of the Three Mothers, she remains unseen for most of the film, hidden behind a secret passage underneath the dance academy and further concealed by her coven. The final showdown between Suzy and the Mother of Sighs, given name Helena Markos, was a terrifying battle as the witch reanimated Suzy’s dead friend Sara to attack. Suzy successfully kills the Mother of Sighs, causing the dance academy to burn to the ground and her coven dying with it.


Inferno – Mater Tenebrarum

An underrated, thematic sequel to Suspiria sees its protagonist square off against the youngest and cruelest of the Three Mothers. While the colors are still present (but not nearly as intense) and the score more delicate than that of Suspiria, Argento enlisted his mentor Mario Bava for some of the effects, matte paintings, and trick shots for the film. Bava, and his son Lamberto, worked as second unit director and assistant director, respectively, picking up the reins when Argento was too ill, suffering from a severe case of hepatitis at the time. The exquisite underwater sequence near the beginning of the film can be attributed, at least in part, to Bava; this remarkable scene alone makes the film worth watching. The intense pain and suffering that Argento endured during production dampened his memories of the film; he’s cited Inferno among his least favorite works.

While the main antagonist of the film is Mater Tenebrarum, or Mother of Darkness, she’s not the only Mother in Inferno. When Rose Elliot stumbles upon an ancient book by E. Varelli that tells of his building the three homes of the Three Mothers, she realizes she’s living in the New York building belonging to one of them. She writes to her brother Mark, back in Rome, begging him to visit. Before he can read her letter, he’s distracted in class by a beautiful student, which turns out to be Mater Lachrymarum, the most beautiful and powerful of the Three Mothers. But this is Mater Tenebrarum’s movie, and Mark does eventually make his way to New York to find his sister. Of the three witches, Mater Tenebrarum’s death proves to be the most anticlimactic; after her identity is finally revealed and she turns into death personified, she passively perishes in the flames of her burning building.


The Mother of Tears – Mater Lachrymarum

Nearly 30 years after Inferno saw limited release, the conclusion of the Three Mothers trilogy finally arrived in 2007. Its modern style and aesthetic bears little resemblance to its thematic siblings, only the mythology serving as connective tissue. It’s also by far the more violent and gruesome, especially when watching the unrated cut. Visceral deaths of babies and children illustrate that this mother may be far crueler than her youngest sister.

The Mother of Tears closes the loop, reconnecting to the first film by introducing the protagonist as the daughter of a powerful white witch that fought and weakened Mater Suspiriorum prior to the events of Suspiria. That daughter, Sarah (Asia Argento) is guided by the ghost of her mother while Mater Lachrymarum grows exponentially more powerful with the unearthing of her magic cloak thanks to the Catholic Church. With widespread violence erupting across Rome, where this Mother is based, and the ever-increasing number of coven members closing in on Sarah, Argento does succeed in demonstrating that this Mother is the most powerful. As such, it builds to one of the more thrilling climaxes, with Sarah underground in the thick of the cannibalistic coven surrounding Mater Lachrymarum for one hellish showdown.

As the furthest removed from Suspiria both in look and in date, The Mother of Tears is the worst received of the trilogy. It’s also the most daring in violence, gore, and nudity. From a mythology standpoint, the final entry is faithful to the story of the Three Mothers.

Each of the witches were powerful and varied in their skills, yet all three were tethered to their specific architecture. Save for Suzy Bannion killing Mater Suspiriorum directly, the subsequent Mothers were destroyed by proxy of destroying their enchanted homes, or their objects of power. Argento created interesting supernatural lore and saw it through its completion, even if it took him three decades to finish.

That said, there’s a lot that could potentially be improved with the new reboot. After Suzy, the subsequent protagonists weren’t as developed, and the witches themselves were often built up to be horrific and fierce only to defeated fairly easily. Even still, it’s a trilogy worth revisiting.

Horror journalist, RT Top Critic, and Critics Choice Association member. Has appeared on PBS series' Monstrum, served on the SXSW Midnighter shorts jury, and moderated horror panels for WonderCon, SeriesFest, and Popcorn Frights Film Fest.

Click to comment

Editorials

Why Mainstream Horror Should Lighten Up

Published

on

“Elevated Horror.” Of all the combinations in the English language, that one is the most insufferable. 

It represents almost a decade of scary movies that, for the most part, took themselves too seriously. Horror responds to the moment, so its “why so serious” lean makes sense as we scuttle through the “worst of times” equation of Charles Dickens’ famous opening lines. But there’s still an opening and a need for a lighter approach; one that not only has fun with its audience but takes the piss out of a genre that is seemingly letting its newfound “respectability” go to its head. 

Wes Craven believed devotees see horror films to let out their fears one primal scream at a time. At their core, these movies are roller coasters; they bring us as close to the edge as possible before pulling us back into a safety net of reality. The need for a bigger and badder coaster increases during times when the size of that net decreases.

There’s a thrill that comes from imagining being in a foot race with a madman, or outthinking the hordes of zombies on the other side of the door, plus the scavenger humans coming behind them. There’s even a rush that comes from imagining how one might deal with possession to see good triumph over evil in the end. It’s all about building tension and releasing it through catharsis. That cathartic release usually sounds like screams followed by laughter, which signals relief. Genre heavy hitters over the past 10 years offered very little of that respite when the credits rolled. Films like Hereditary, The Witch, Talk to Me, and even Smile (pick one) keep that tension going after the screen fades to black.

Hereditary

As the genre became obsessed with creating trauma metaphors, that lack of release made sense. Anyone with even a small sample size of traumatic experiences knows those emotions don’t magically resolve themselves in an allotted run time. But how much trauma can one take? Especially when there’s a mess going on outside that few of us can escape from. Movies offer that off-ramp, no matter how short. 

Everything can’t be, nor should it be, “elevated.” Audiences need thoughtful explorations of life’s ills via monsters as much as they need murdering masked maniacs with kitchen knives. And no, it doesn’t have to go any deeper than that. Sometimes, a knife is just a knife, and it’s still worth our time and respect. As weird as it sounds, that simplicity is comforting not in spite of the trauma but because of it. 

The worst of times should manifest more than just anguish. People need to laugh just as much as they need to think seriously about this moment in time. Even the Scream franchise forgot the meta rock upon which it built its church when the latest foray sacrificed the subtle comedy for serious drama. Scary Movie returned at the perfect moment. It provides the necessary laughs, but it’s not a cure-all.

This isn’t a call for Scary Movie imitators but a return to a mainstream landscape where Killer Klowns from Outer Space sat with The Serpent and the Rainbow, nestled neatly with the latest Nightmare on Elm Street, which took nothing away from The Vanishing.

They Live

Even They Live, John Carpenter’s horror sci-fi satire sandwich, kept its tongue firmly in cheek while discussing serious ideas still relevant in 2026. Yes, a film about aliens taking over the world through subliminal messaging only visible through coded sunglasses is, in fact, a tad silly. Carpenter understood that mainstream horror can’t become so self-important that it never looks itself in the mirror and laughs at that inherent silliness. 

The thing is, horror historically excels at poking fun at itself. Most of the Scream franchise, The Cabin in the Woods, or The Blackening show adoration without kowtowing. They recognize tropes and trappings but invert them for an audience already in on the joke, but one that also finds solace in said conventions. This keeps the genre on its toes; once something gets parodied, it’s usually time to evolve. That breeds new ideas and fresh filmmakers, which not only strengthen the genre’s collective voice but also amplify it.

Get Out, as “elevated” as some critics want us to believe it is, is a cathartic, populist scary movie that spoke to an untapped audience rather than speaking down to them. Backrooms is one of the biggest horror hits in years, partially because it’s fine-tuned for modern-day teenagers instead of their parents. Movies like these tell everyone the genre is open for business; open for innovation and, yeah, open for new ways in which people can lovingly poke fun at with a wink and a nudge. 

Horror needs dread as much as it needs laughter.

Catharsis is just as important as tension, and pulpy populism has the same merit as more high-brow material. Respectability shouldn’t come at the expense of an experience akin to walking through a haunted house. At a time when joy seems in short supply, horror should look to its past to map out its future, and make things just a tad brighter for audiences.

Backrooms

Continue Reading