The Church: A tapestry of technical talent
The Church, a cinematic gem born from the visionary minds of Dario Argento and director Michele Soavi, emerges as a departure from the typical horror fare of its time. Originally conceived as the third instalment in the Dèmoni series, Soavi’s insistence on veering away from the franchise’s formulaic, shlocky approach led to a complete reimagining of the script.
Released initially in 1989, and later in 1990 in the US, this atmospheric masterpiece showcases Argento’s prowess in crafting a spine-chilling and fresh perspective on the genre. As we delve deeper into The Church, we uncover a tapestry of terror woven with mesmerizing visuals and a haunting score that lingers long after the credits roll.
Plot
It’s Medieval times. The Teutonic Knights embarked on the monumental task of erecting a grand Gothic cathedral atop a sombre site: a mass grave of slaughtered villagers, accused of devil worship, cast undignified into a pit. Fast forward through the annals of time, and we find ourselves in the company of Evan, the cathedral’s diligent librarian, and Lisa, a talented artist. Together, they stumble upon a hidden chamber harbouring a cryptic parchment alluding to something known as the “Stone with Seven Eyes.”
As they delve into the mysteries of this ancient document, unsettling occurrences ripple through the cathedral’s halls—ghostly apparitions, possessions, eerie transformations, and reflections tainted by a haunting past. Meanwhile, other characters are ensnared in a web of disturbing phenomena, each thread tracing back to the cathedral’s dark history.
With each translation of the parchment, ominous warnings unfurl, hinting at a malevolent force poised to break free. Despite the earnest efforts of the well-intentioned Bishop to exorcise the cathedral of its latent evil, his actions inadvertently unleash chaos, endangering all within its sacred confines.
Review
Rarely do I find myself dubbing a film as a visual feast. But in the case of The Church, this descriptor fits like a glove. With its masterful cinematography and impeccable practical effects, the film may falter in substance, but it more than compensates with its sheer style. Every frame is a testament to the technical prowess of the crew, from the evocative lighting to the clever camera angles, creating a visual work of art, that is nothing short of breathtaking. And let’s not forget the haunting soundtrack by Goblin, which serves as the perfect accompaniment to the film’s unsettling atmosphere.
Yet, amidst all its visual splendor, The Church’s narrative falls short, lacking the depth needed to fully engage its audience. Similarly, the characters feel like mere shadows, lacking the nuance to truly captivate. Nevertheless, despite these shortcomings, The Church remains a cinematic marvel, an experience that transcends its narrative limitations to deliver a visual spectacle that demands to be seen.
