The film takes a low-intensity, 'realistic' view of its subject matter, yet stills dabbles in plausibility-skewering, morality-be-damned, violent wish-fulfillment, similar to what some of those old Charles Bronson and Clint Eastwood movies used to catch flack for.
How are viewers supposed to remain invested in a movie character’s survival when the character themselves don’t behave as if they are? When their decisions become infuriatingly counterintuitive and reckless?
Aside from seeing the Jaws trailer on a large screen in a movie theater...when I was five...I don't recall any Horror movie giving me nightmares. Certainly not panic attacks, nor PTSD.
The film's more concerned with depicting a fractured father-son relationship salvaged by the supernatural. This is a troubled-family drama dressed up, albeit rather skimpily, in Horror clothing.
Purely as an exercise in aesthetics, the film could be appreciated, but it was tough to get through for the reasons mentioned above. This is the kind of arthouse movie I can admire without really enjoying.
The first half was a tough slog, an eye-rolling, head-scratching endurance test. The second half redeemed itself beautifully, albeit in nightmarish, ultra-violent fashion.
My opinion of what I've seen so far of the Suspiria remake is...[shrug]...why'd they bother?